Signs

When my daughter was only a few months old, we began teaching her sign language. We weren’t fluent, but we could manage the basics of human need—verbs first—eat, sleep, drink, stop, sit—then nouns, as she devoured her place among a family of things: Mom, milk, Dad, cat, tree, book. Then thank you. Change. Yes. No. Yes. I love you.

 

Our hands, our nimble fingers, threw open a door and our daughter burst forth in simple declarative sentences, translated through chubby little fists, her first iterations of human communication, the sparkle of recognition in eyes blue as a glacier-fed stream, of unadulterated bliss when those ideas were acted upon, satisfying thirst, hunger, her desire for one more story. Our first conversations were silent. Yet we spoke. We listened.  We understood.

 

Last week, my daughter and I sat in her pediatrician’s parking lot, waiting. She, my towering girl of fifteen, stood jittery on the sidewalk, nervously shuffling her feet as the doctor tended to an infant first–to prevent the spread–then donned layer upon layer of PPE, asked her to turn away so her breath would dissipate into the air, away from the office entrance, away from the exits, away from the doctor’s voice, her eyes, the only visible part of her face. She couldn’t see the doctor steeling herself with one deep breath before providing care through a stethoscope. But my daughter could see me, sitting in the car, in my mask, in my viral skin, shedding contagion with every breath, feeling fragile to my very bones. She couldn’t see my eyes through the glare of the windshield. She couldn’t hear my voice. But she could hear my gloved hands. She could see me saying: STOP fidgeting. Be still. YES. It’s going to be okay. SIT on the curb and wait your turn. THANK YOU. Let others come before you. Let the doctors do their difficult work. I’m still here. We’re still here. I LOVE YOU.

Found Poem by Blake Pohanka

Two Sides to the Story: Introduction

 

Narrative medicine has been a very fascinating topic for me to learn about, I find the various aspects of it intriguing and often times perplexing and profound. Reading “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” has resulted in a similar learning experience incorporating various emotions from feeling for the Lacks family to sharing in their anger of Henrietta’s treatment. Prior to reading the book, I questioned if Henrietta’s treatment would have been different had she been a white woman, though I knew the answer to this question was obvious I couldn’t help but feel anger stemmed from the immense racism of past generations and the realization that had Henrietta been white, there would be no book and we would be learning about a completely different story and topic. Yet, Deborah elected not to take this easy approach of pulling the race card and I give her a tremendous amount of credit for that and believe her desire to have justice for Henrietta is even more heartfelt because of it.

 

The course readings inform and uncover hidden meaning in my poem because several times throughout the text, it is evident that Deborah is not seeking revenge but is conducting herself in a classy way that indicates that she is not out to destroy those who have wronged her, but that she instead is just trying to find and make sense of the tangled situation that has unfolded and honor Henrietta’s singularity.

 

My hope with this poem is that the readers are made to realize that narrative medicine and emotion work are often not just based upon issues that can be tagged with a category such as racism; narrative medicine and emotion work are not about pointing fingers and “winning” nor fighting for recognition of being “right”, not about revenge or monetary compensation. Narrative medicine and emotion work are about genuine human feelings and emotions, about treating one another with the respect and dignity that each of us rightfully deserves.

 

When reading my poem, I hope that the readers feel the intense emotion and drive behind Deborah’s attempts to uncover the truth and discover the facts behind her mothers complex journey and entry into the medical world and to understand that while this issue is very well an issue of race, in her family’s eyes they just want to know about their relative and understandably so. I hope that the genuine, delicate and complex nature of narrative medicine and emotion work is called into question and brought to the attention of those reading the poem as they put themselves in the shoes of the Lacks family.

 

This poem will impact the community partners because it is likely that many of them have been in a situation, in their journey’s leading to Pennybyrn, that have caused them to feel helpless and that the whole medical field and industry is out to get them and wants nothing to do with helping them, nor communicating with them on a level ground, in a civilized and humane way. I believe that in some way, shape, or form that each of us has felt as though we have been schemed by doctors at one point in our lives and thus, can relate to the frustration that the Lacks family feels.

 

 

Two Sides to the Story

 

-Found poem by Blake Pohanka, excerpted from The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot, pp. 250,     .

 

Racism! Racism!

Everybody always yelling:

‘White man stole that black woman’s cells!’

 

Racism! Racism!

Everybody always yelling:

‘That white man killed that black woman!’

 

Racism! Racism!

That’s crazy talk,

we all black and white and everything else.

 

Racism! Racism!

Everybody always yelling

This isn’t a race thing.

 

This isn’t a race thing

There’s two sides to the story

That’s what we want to bring out.

 

This isn’t a race thing

If it’s about wantin to fry the researchers,

nothing about my mother is truth.

 

This isn’t a race thing

It’s not about punish the doctors or slander the hospital,

I don’t want that.

 

Racism! Racism!

This isn’t a race thing.

I don’t want that.

This isn’t a race thing.

I don’t want that.

Skloot, Rebecca. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. New York: Broadway Books, 2010. Print.

Found Poem by Summer Sipprell

Introduction

Ethicality is by far the most relevant and impactful areas of narrative medicine in Rebecca Skloot’s novel about the immortal cells of Henrietta Lacks. Chapter 12 was the first section of the book that I was really able to relate to and analyze the repercussions of the dehumanization of Henrietta Lacks by medical professionals. Skloot paints 2 separate pictures in this chapter. One of these is the autopsy of Henrietta Lacks in which she is cut open and specimen are removed from each organ in her body by a medical pathologist. This scenario is immediately followed by the preparation and execution of Henrietta’s funeral by her family and friends. Besides the obvious chronology of events leading to Skloot’s decision to include the funeral after the autopsy I found that the most telling link between the two scenes was the realization of the human being behind the medical phenomenon by one of the medical professionals and the realization that there was something that the doctors weren’t telling her family by one of her family members in regards to the massive storm that took place during her funeral.  This chapter provided a unique bridge between 2 seemingly opposite lifestyles. This gives us insight into the turning point of both sides. The family can reflect on this time as the point where Henrietta was trying to tell them there was more to the story of her death than what they realized. The medical professionals can reflect on this time as the point where Henrietta was finally looked at as a person instead of the source of a medical phenomenon. While writing this poem I attempted to bridge the gap between the medical jargon and the lingo of Henrietta’s loved ones while also conveying the severity and complexity of Henrietta’s condition.

 

Let Her Rest

 

–Found poem by Summer Sipprell, excerpted from The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot, pp.  90, 91 &92.

 

Terminal uremia

Blood poisoning

From the buildup of toxins

Organs so covered

In small, white tumors

Sweet Jesus let that poor woman rest

 

Body lay on a stainless steel table

Arms were extended

No incision into her chest

No removal of her limbs or head

Opened the dishes one by one

Collect samples

As cut from body

Sweet Jesus let that poor woman rest

 

Size of baseballs

Tumors replaced her kidneys

Replaced her bladder

Replaced her ovaries

Replaced her uterus

Sweet Jesus let that poor woman rest

 

Lifeless body

Lifeless eyes

Wasn’t what got her the most

Hennie must a hurt something worse than death

Chipped bright red polish

Henrietta would rather have died

Sweet Jesus let that poor woman rest

 

I started imagining

Those cells we’d been working with

They came from a live woman

Sweet Jesus let that poor woman rest

Found Poem by Gabby Llopiz

Introduction

Through this found poem, using “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks”, I wanted to portray the journey that this woman went through during her treatments at the hospital. This is an extremely controversial topic, although the HeLa cells are extremely important to modern medicine, the miscommunication through the whole medical process is a true issue. I borrowed some of the repetition from the book and incorporated that into the poem, because it stressed the issue and importance of her story. This is an ethical issue, just like what we talked about through narrative medicine and our study of the Hippocratic Oath.

Narrative medicine teaches us to listen to our patients and their stories. We have to make sure that we understand everything that the patient is feeling and can read in between the lines. In return, it is extremely important that the patient understands everything that is going on with their body and their treatment. If there is a language barrier or just terms that the regular, everyday person does not understand, it is the job of the doctor to make them understand. We saw this misunderstanding throughout Henrietta’s story, as she was not aware of what getting her treatment meant. She thought she would be able to have children after the treatment of her cancer, but the doctors did not clearly tell her that her treatment would leave her infertile. This is something that happens in the medical community often, the words and terms that doctors use don’t make sense to us who don’t have a medical background. They are ultimately speaking a different language to us and expecting that we will understand. If questions are asked, they would be able to answer, but sometimes we don’t know what questions to ask.

This poem is meant to show the importance of Henrietta Lack’s story and the HeLa cell. It is an interesting way to look at her journey and appreciate her life and all that her cells did for modern medicine. I personally was unaware that there was a story like this about the HeLa cells, I never thought about it. This story is important to be publicized and educate people about what happened and how to prevent things like this in the future. Communication is everything in the medical world and we need to work on communicating terms in a better way. A patient needs to understand what is going on in their body so they can make decisions about their treatment etc. I hope through this poem I am able to convey the emotions and importance of Henrietta’s story.

Henrietta’s Story

By: Gabby Llopiz, Quotes from “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” by Rebecca Skloot

 

“HeLa,” for Henrietta and Lacks

Sixth or seventh grade education; housewife and mother of five.

The Immortal life of Henrietta Lacks

She went straight to the waiting room of the gynecology clinic, a wide-open space, empty but for rows of long straight-backed benches that looked like church pews.

Jones got her biopsy results from the pathology lab: “Epidermoid carcinoma of the cervix, Stage I.”

The Immortal life of Henrietta Lacks

But first—though no one had told Henrietta that TeLinde was collecting samples or asked if she wanted to be a donor

She simply went on with her day as if nothing had happened, which was just like her—no sense upsetting anyone over something she could deal with herself.

The Immortal life of Henrietta Lacks

They were sure Henrietta’s cells would die just like all the others.

Henrietta’s cells weren’t merely surviving, they were growing with mythological intens- ity.

The Immortal life of Henrietta Lacks

The Immortal life of Henrietta Lacks

Citation: Skloot, Rebecca. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. New York: Crown, 2010. Print.

Found Poem by Grace Barrett

Introduction

My hope with this poem was to show the audience the value of time and temporality, everything gets better with time. Although, at the beginning it may be a tough road ahead, you should never doubt time. Only time will tell, defines this poem perfectly. By showing the audience the progression from the start to the end of this poem allows them to understand taking on a new journey, no matter what stage of life. Whether that be to become a doctor or to learn to play the guitar or something as small as complimenting someone everyday to become a more positive person.

The House of God recognizes the strain that interns go through during the crucial, initial years of their new journey into the world of medicine. Experiencing as much death and sadness can make anyone cynical but this poem demonstrates that with time perspectives can change. I’m hoping that this poem will show the community that whatever journey you wish to take on might not be a walk in the park but that they will prevail in the end, no matter how long it takes. It took Roy a whole year to realize that he was numbing his pain using sarcasm and running important relationships in his life. Eventually, with the help of Berry, he figures out what he must change in order to overcome this obstacle he has created for himself.

Temporality can be defined in a couple ways: passage of time, recognition that our lives are temporary or by the life cycle. This poem displays this element of narrative medicine, structurally, because it is written in chronological order. Starting with the hardship Roy is facing and moving through his progression and realization of reality. Roy realizes that his life is temporary because of the death he is surrounded by on a daily basis and by the sadness he feels whenever he is in the House of God. Although, this is poem spans over just one year it shows the cycle of life in a shorter period of time. In a way Roy starts of as a child in the House of God and develops through the stages of life and hits that “mid-life crisis”, if you will. After some help he understands how he is being destructive in his life by numbing out his pain and pushing people out of his life.

When the community reads this poem I want them to feel empathetic for the person behind the poem and then feel empowered when he overcomes the struggle. The first stanza is very heavy, which I purposely did to get the reader intrigued and feeling what Roy is feeling throughout his internship. Then changing gears in the second stanza to allow a light at the end of the tunnel affect to appear to the reader. This will allow the readers to relate it to a situation they have encountered in their lifetime and hopefully let them see the light at the end of their tunnel. When the audience is able to relate to the poem is allows for a greater understanding and analysis of the poem itself, seeing the big picture. The next step would be applying this to their own lives. Applying a poem like this to their lives can make them more motivated to achieve a dream or accomplish a goal.

 

Hope

 

-Found poem by Grace Barrett, excerpted from The House of God, by Samuel Shem, pp. 250, 261, 268, 271, 33, 302, 41, 145, 145, 148, 169, 126, 143, 171, 349, 351

 

Part of me wondered,

What the hell I was doing

I’d become cynical

I felt numb, absence of feeling

And I waited, as the long seconds ticked away

My guilt moaning inside me

Time turned timeless

I got more and more tired

I sat there and cried

I slammed my fist down over and over again,

Bashing away the world

It’s the hardest thing we ever do, to be a doctor for the dying

 

This was new

To have a good time in the House of God?

Worry less about saving patients

More about saving ourselves

I felt close to tears

We were becoming doctors

It was all so easy and it was all so damn much fun

I had spent a human sixteen hours in the House of God

What was my hope now?

[I] was safe.

[I] would flourish.

[I] would bloom.