Of all the times I’ve cut and donated my hair to make wigs for cancer patients, this has clearly been the most epic! First, I set my own personal record for the longest donation; it was so gratifying to hold 7 years’ worth of hair in my hand. But more importantly, I don’t think I have ever made such an impact from a fundraising point of view, but also from the awareness perspective ever in my life (set a record for most likes of any of my posts – EVER). Considering I never raised money to cut my hair before, I am astonished at the fact that I was able to raise $1400 for Childhood Cancer Canada – thank you to everyone who donated, spread the word, attended, or helped organize and run Shave for a Cure! At first, I have to admit, I had my reservations about our overall goal to raise $20000, but we did, and I am just so proud to be a part of it!

I must say, I’m still adjusting to having short hair. I have phantom ponytail syndrome – I always reach to pull my hair out of my jacket when I put it on, but that’s no longer a problem. The back of my neck is a bit colder now, and even small actions, like putting on and taking off my stethoscope from around my neck are much easier. Even better, I can wash my hair in the morning before class and not worry about it Defying Gravity (pun-intended) – I have never been able to do that in my life! Unlimited, my future is… unlimited!

Monday was so magical for me, and I never expected everyone who attended to be so supportive. I’ve never had a razor put to my head, but seeing the smiling faces of my classmates made me feel at ease. During the rest of the week, I’ve received so many kind comments regarding my new haircut (which is a relief) – even the crossing guard mentioned it! Every time I look in the mirror, I’m reminded of the reason why I cut my hair and all of the good feelings that went along with the action. Even though the “Shave for a Cure” event, per se, is over, the generation of awareness won’t stop for a while!

The mind can be a maze with all of the memories that we hold. Some of us become trapped in these memories, repeating our mistakes again and again, reliving the agony of past experiences. Depression takes out the exit to our maze, and leaves it feeling cold and deserted.

Featured in Arts in Medicine Art Show, 2017

In late April, we cross the muddy roads to Weenebayko Hospital, Moose Factory. ‘We’ are the medical students who travel by airplane to this remote First Nation reserve. This acrylic painting is a reflection of the two types of health care provided to the community: the Dreamcatcher in the sky and the hospital in the background as symbols of Indigenous and Western medicine respectively. As Canada’s northern communities experience barriers to health distribution, the promise of complementing Western medicine and local indigenous healing methods could not only save lives but also harmonize these two valuable practices.

Featured in Arts in Medicine Art Show, 2017

Musicians tune and temper their artistry through the combination of a mind knowledgeable in their craft and a heart filled with passion for what they do. Similarly, medicine is best tempered when physicians practice with both a sharp mind and a compassionate heart.

Featured in Arts in Medicine Art Show, 2017

Inspired by:
Jon Reed. Lost Generation (2007). YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=42E2fAWM6rA
Music by:
HDSounDI. Most Emotional Music: ‘And They Have Escaped The Weight Of Darkness’ by Ólafur Arnalds. (2016).Youtube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWhJi2roJTw
Resources:
Casazza, K. et al. Myths, Presumptions, and Facts about Obesity. N. Engl. J. Med. 368, 446–454 (2013).
Chaput, J.-P., Ferraro, Z. M., Prud’homme, D. & Sharma, A. M. Widespread misconceptions about obesity. Can. Fam. Physician 60, 973–975 (2014).​

They say that I’m unforgiving. Greedy. Relentless. I’ll admit that I may appear this way when you don’t really know me, but I’ll grow with each and every one of you.

You are some of my many children that are not my own but are treated as such, whether I am proud of you or not. We learn together. And I promise that I treat you all the same; I know that it isn't always obvious, but your perception of me is merely a reflection of how I am treated by you.

(I can feel Him)

He squeezes              like a vice
-He is my vice.

try as I might              He
cannot be controlled.

try as we might          He
cannot be controlled.

He eludes us all.

Like the tide                He
comes and goes
and     we may
rise and ride                or
float and survive
or    drown     and             
deny ourselves.

You might have noticed that I have a funny way with patterns. I like repetition; it gives some order to my life, and I know it can for yours, too, though this repetition can have a way of distorting my influence. At this point, I should express that I don’t believe I am the sun that your Earth revolves around –though I know it can be easy to think of me in this way. You constantly have me in your schedules. Your agendas. Your plans. I’m there, whether you want me to be or not.

void
of                   comfort,
                       certainty,
                      control.  

Every year, I become smaller and smaller to you. Yet, somehow, I become more and more important. You’ve questioned my existence, but you never fail to rely on me, even when I can’t tell you the future, and even when your present is eclipsed by the past.

But there are moments where you forget I exist, even if just for a slice of your life. And I am most happy in these moments. Less work for me, yes, but it also means that your life is the sun.

guaranteed     happiness,
                         humiliation,
                         heart ache.

Every month, I walk home with the girl in the 30-year-old footsteps of her parents. I hold the hand of the 85-year old army veteran, walking each day to keep his health, even though he knows that I am slowly taking it. In the hospitals, I pause with the mourners and the elated alike.

He                   exists,
                       persists,
and                resists


our calls to      pass
                         slow,
                         yield.

Every day, you realize: we always move forward together –never back. We might not move in a straight line, but we do move. We’re always in orbit.

        We are not masters of             Him,
for   we are not masters of             ourselves.

I tell you all this, yet I know that you’ll never really know who I am. But I’ll be there until your sun burns out.

Taken at the newborn ICU at the general hospital, this is a picture of an extremely preterm baby in the incubator, receiving mechanical ventilation. At the moment the picture was taken, the baby extended her hand, appearing to reach out, which brought two words to mind: hope and resilience.

It was a regular afternoon after class. I didn’t feel like studying just yet so I wandered from room to room looking for an interest group talk to attend. I walked by a talk about hematology – arguably a specialty that I am considering - but the talk had one major flaw – no free lunch. Alas, I continued until I smelled the sweet smell of pizza. I looked into the room only to read a PowerPoint slide entitled “Pathology Interest Group”. I cringed a little and preceded to sell my time for free pizza – shameful I know but it happened. I expected to be bored for an hour, however this was good pizza so I decided to stick it out. The fact is pathology has a bad rep among medical students. Pathologists are caricaturized as doctors that hate people and lack social skills; but this talk was about to prove me wrong.

As I sat, I listened to two residents talk about their love for the specialty. I was even more surprised to hear from a resident who switched from family medicine into pathology. In the medical world this is like moving from Earth to Mars. Nonetheless, these doctors loved so many unique aspects that pathology has to offer: reasonable hours, a lack of challenging (and sometimes frustrating) patient interactions, a wide scope of practice and the ability to make diagnoses. And pathologists were not antisocial, the resident explained, they just didn’t crave the type of interactions one has with patients; instead, they preferred interacting with their colleagues.

This stuff sounded pretty good or maybe I was in a stupor from the food, so I decided to try it out with an elective with Dr. Grynpsan at the Children’s Hospital of Eastern Ontario. For those of you who know Dr. Grynspan, his enthusiasm is infectious; he responded to my email in about 7 minutes.

And so the elective began, first with a brief session discussing neuroblastoma. In class, it can be difficult to comprehend pathology – it tends to look like a whole bunch of pink and purple, however Dr. Grynspan was excellent at pointing out the key features to look for. At the end of the day, once you know what to look for, pathology makes a lot of sense. You are basically looking at the connection between structure and function as is unfolds right before your eyes; for example, cancer cells are overactive, therefore their nuclei are darker.

At the next session, I attended general surgery rounds. These rounds involve surgeons, pathologists, residents and more who review interesting cases from the past few weeks. I loved seeing how pathology interacted with other aspects of medicine. Seeing a case all the way from symptoms, to diagnosis, to treatment, is fascinating and connecting the pathology to the clinical presentation is something that we are not always exposed to in the lecture hall.

At another session, I attended the autopsy of a fetus that had suffered intrauterine fetal demise (IUFD). I have always wanted to attend an autopsy because medical students don’t have many opportunities to do so in medical school. I was a bit concerned as to how I would react to such a young patient, however the experience was very informative. First, we discussed the case by reviewing the charts of the mother and fetus. This brings me to another benefit of pathology – there is always a connection to the clinical presentation. For example, we looked for factors that might have contributed to fetal demise, such as gestational diabetes, slowed growth rate and the presence or absence of screening tests. All of this helped us form hypotheses before starting the autopsy.

The autopsy itself was captivating. We discussed the ways bodies decompose, which allows one to theorize about when death occurred. We started with an external exam looking for fetal deformities and other obvious signs, then we moved on to the internal exam. This was a great opportunity to practice anatomy because one was able to see how tissue layers interact in real life. It was also interesting because we could look for changes that would suggest a certain etiology of the IUFD. 

I proceeded to go to several different rounds and what struck me was the huge scope of knowledge that Dr. Grynspan possessed; whether it was urology, general surgery, pediatrics, radiology or oncology, he had a complete understanding of the diseases affecting that population and could talk in detail with his colleagues about the cases. I noticed this phenomenon in class as well – pathologists have a thorough understanding of almost every system in the body. In this sense, I think that completing a pathology elective is a fantastic idea. Learning pathological concepts on real specimens and working with a pathologist to understand the basics makes pathology more interesting and more intuitive. In addition, pathologists have connections to almost any specialty in the hospital, therefore they serve as a great resource to observe other areas for example, Dr. Grynspan suggested that I observe a neurosurgery and then follow the biopsy specimen through to pathology – how cool is that! Finally, pathologists posses a wide scope of knowledge, and are therefore excellent people to chat with to help integrate knowledge learned in various areas. Forget the whole “that’s beyond my scope of practice” – pathologists seem to know it all!

And so in the end, on that seemingly regular Wednesday in February I got much more than I expected from the Pathology Interest Group – not to mention some really good pizza.
 
Addendum: I wrote this piece in my second year of medical school. I am now coming to an end of my third year and am planning to apply to Anatomical Pathology. Who would have thought that such a coincidence would lead me to my future career? It just goes to show that there is so much out there to discover, so don’t be afraid to follow your gut – or your nose. 

Buzzword #1: "Person"

Person describes the physician whom should be sure to take time for themselves, maintain their health, their relationships and generally master other things that are, by many, expected to suffer in a life in medicine.

Buzzword #2: "Work-Life Balance"

The seemingly intangible equilibrium where the individual has their sh*t together in every aspect and whom, therefore, is both a source of inspiration and frustration to those around. 

And when you picture this all in your mind, you see a scale with big WordART style letters shouting "LIFE!" on one side, and "WORK!" on the other, and magically they are at the very same level. Must be because they are both four-letter words. 

More accurately I think we should use the term work-life see-saw, or work-life teeter-totter. Symantics, perhaps, and the goal is even the same. But have you ever tried to balance one of those with your friends in the playground? Not so easy. Constantly falling one side to the other, and just when you think you've got it, someone throws a soccer ball at you, and your arms and legs flail in attempt to regain balance, or at the very least, not fall. And even as a child, the concept of a fine balance is so craved, yet it continually evades you. 

But maybe our thinking is off. Maybe our approach needs to change. Maybe the attempt should be more child-like, where you embrace the rises and the falls because you love the fun, and the challenge of getting back to center. Maybe we need to take all our expectations of balance and instead, turn them into embracing the change.

​Maybe, sometimes, it's all we can do to just hold on tight.

Snapshots of Jamaica, the land of wood and water. Connecting with nature is to disconnect from our society, and being unplugged at times is fundamental for balance. Ignoring all the medicines, design, and utilities we derive directly from nature, just being in nature itself is another type of medicine - one we should definitely preserve in this increasingly technological world. 

​Oh, and just one of my favourite dishes of all time - Hellshire escovitch fried parrot fish with festival (fried sweet dough) and bammy (fried cassava cake). Can't give you some snaps of Jamaica without that. Mi will nyam Hellshire food til mi belly burst, zeen?

Re:turn is my 2nd poem composed of haikus. This poem is an aggregate of haikus I've written after separate experiences in Canada and Jamaica. I love haikus as a medium of expression as it challenges me to write as a minimalist, and encourages the use of vivid imagery. Interpret it as you will, I'd love to hear about them!

For me, it deals with self-doubt that comes along with this increasingly competitive world we live in. It's a realization that our daily strife is a microcosm of thought patterns that develop in response to our surroundings. I hope, by reading the poem you can appreciate different microcosms of thought patterns. Having spent so much time in Toronto working on my career, nearing burnout, I decided to visit Jamaica and my old friends again. It was like taking sunglasses off at the beach - every time I'm awed at how vividly beautiful this planet is. 

I think we can all ride the rollercoaster of thoughts and forget we're on it. In a meditative sense, we have to realize we might be behaving or thinking in a way we may not like because of our physical, mental, and spiritual environments. If you don't like it, change it. I think that's crucial in moving forward with our careers in medicine. 

Note to future self: "John, jus' easy yuself and gwaan do yuh ting yute. You know seh yaad and all you brejjin and fam dem a guh tek care a you. Nuh watch no face; focus 'pon yuself, zeen?"​

reDiscover
The history of medicine is full of wonder, struggle, and some crazy ideas. When I look back and rediscover what the profession used to be like I think not only of the trials and tribulations that came with discovering new treatments and diseases but of what it meant to dress professionally. The image of the bubonic plague doctor is a classic example. An unrecognizable doctor came to your door wearing a robe, mask full of herbs, hat, gloves and holding a stick. This outfit had a purpose and that was to prevent the doctor from acquiring the disease (and quiet possibly to scare the disease right out of you). Fast-forward to the 1900’s where doctors are now wearing all white outfits and head mirrors. A very plain look, but iconic with the head mirror designed for examining the patients nose and throat. Both of these outfits were designed for a purpose, and I think it is time to rediscover the purpose of how doctors dress today.
 
reDefine
What does it look like to dress like a doctor in 2016?  Most people would say that dressing professionally means wearing a pair of black dress pants, long sleeve dress shirt that’s tucked in, with a nice belt and pair of dress shoes. If you are in an extra classy field of medicine it may even include a tie and white coat. Or maybe if you are in a more relaxed specialty dressing professionally may include khakis and a nice shirt. Now these outfits aren’t bad, they are just…boring. And hospitals themselves are…boring. Adult hospitals especially lack creativity.  Everything in the hospital is a safe and neutral colour. Which in turn is how we also chose to dress, safe and neutral. I think it is time to redefine what it means to look like a professional in the healthcare field.
 
reDesign
Hospitals have so little artwork and creativity in them already, so why not fix that and become the source of it? I believe that doctors should wear brighter colours and fun designs that can bring smiles to their patient’s faces. I created both my pieces with the idea of being a walking piece of artwork using already known artists like van Gogh and Monet in my designs. These outfits were created in hopes of bringing a little happiness into someone’s day. Maybe a patient of yours is an art lover and can identify the paintings, or maybe they don’t and ask you about your outfit, regardless of the circumstance the outfit is a conversation starter used to build rapport with a patient.  We have so many different tools in medicine so why not use what we wear as a tool to bring a smile to someone’s face and brightens someone’s day?

I took this picture during an international elective in Dhaka, Bangladesh, after observing a c-section delivery for the first time. Excited to capture this moment, I took a picture of the baby as the pediatrician welcomed her with a series of affectionate rubs and examinations. Despite my initial discomfort, I discovered the beauty of childbirth.

But there are many angles to a story – the photographer and those in the picture see very different versions of a similar story, with perspective being our differentiator. In medicine, a discovery made by a physician may be different from what is being perceived by a patient. And when the patient is one who has just been brought into this world, the discoveries are endless. As she took her first breaths, she discovered the ability to breathe in fresh air and even attempt a loud cry. She experienced the sensation of light in her eyes and the touch of numerous caregivers surrounding her - she felt and heard those around her from a new vantage point. She was slowly discovering this unknown world, so strange and foreign. But just as all of this overwhelmed her, she discovered, once again, the comforting embrace of her mother. And that discovery made all the difference; it was enough to calm her down as though all was good again, and nothing changed at all.