Crab Shell

Crab Shell, a poem

When we met, she was in her first year of residency and had just finished an 80-hour workweek. "It's been hard to lean into the excitement," she said.

Growing up in a rural town, adjusting to city life was tough. "I have strong connections to rural communities," she shared.

 To cope with the demands of residency, she ran. "Running helps me reset. I value the brightness and warmth of the sun, but my favorite run is when it's raining, and the sun is out. It gives me back more than I give."

When asked why she chose medicine, she said her motivation changes over time, but she was drawn to the intersection of science and service. Aspiring to be a colorectal surgeon, she liked the physical labor aspect of surgery, a mindset rooted in her upbringing on a farm. "I would choose it again, but think hard about it," she admitted. "We grew corn and soybeans and raised pigs," she said. "As a kid, I was always dirty. People are surprised to discover I'm into fashion and art now, but where I come from is the most important part of my life."

On why she chose colorectal surgery, she explained that the colon is an intimate and essential part of the body that people often ignore due to self-consciousness. "It’s being human at our most vulnerable. Poo is taboo, but everyone does it. It’s natural," she said.

She wanted to help people feel comfortable and transform the shame around colon issues. "I want to talk about things that matter, the things people don't want to discuss. I want to help them feel okay talking about it."

Listener Poet D’ete Blackshire

KNN Residents

May 2024

 

Crab Shell

As children

we’d played in the mud like pigs.

 

We didn’t claim manners

but our revelry

and bathed in dank soil

between snort and squeal

to retreat from searching for ways

to reinvent ourselves.

Our impolite bodies belonged

to the Earth.

 

Now I run through sunbeams and raindrops.

Dragging my shoelaces through the mud

collecting in puddles on sidewalks.

Secretly hoping they ripple through the civility of our self-image.

 

And when my rubber soles

bounce off the concrete

I draw strength and energy from the alliance.

It’s assurance that

our bodies still belong

to the Earth.

 

We may try hard to be polite

but we still need to shit to live a healthy life.

 

After the rain

I inhale the mingled scent of

wet terra and pavement

to humanize my mindset.

 

I see nature in Us.

But to find us in the world...well

 

This house of flesh and bone we inhabit

is a crab shell.

 

Invincible in its shameless vulnerability.

 

When we are in it

without disguise

perhaps we can arrive

home.