Coffee
A bold, hickory taste
Taste of home, a place to sip and laugh
A place to feel safe and break free from the past
Roasted Arabian beans -- at least that’s what they say
Written across the cabinet, “Patient Nourishment Only.”
Maybe this time will be different
This time, she’ll be okay
The vapors from the styrofoam cup tickle my upper lip
The room, once full of laughter, is now full of tears
Loss is incalculable, but the silence of the room spoke clear
I sat by her side as she sipped the dark, roasted concoction
Every sip provided her some solace
She could have been angry, sad, or even numb
Her deep breath made it clear
She knew she’d be okay
A deep breath and the smell of coffee
She had the spirit to fight and find a way forward
She looked at me and cracked a small smile
“Tastes like home, free of doubt,” she said
A hint of hickory grazed my nose
Coffee -- for Patient Nourishment Only
Abhijeet Suryadevara
I am a third-year medical student at the University of Michigan Medical School. When I read the prompt questions, one stood out: "After injury or illness, do we hope to return the same?" The concept of revival can take many forms and can mean many things. To me, it took the shape of a young, new mother who had lost her child during labor. Unlike many things in our field, we cannot standardize a human's response to loss. There's never one way to help a patient through what they're experiencing. We can, however, help patients through the little things we do for them -- things as simple as a cup of coffee. The little things we do and the time we spend reinvigorate the human spirit in them. Although we cannot stop them from feeling grief, we can provide them some relief to recognize that better times are ahead. We may all hope to return the same, but loss transforms us and changes our outlook on the world. These small pockets of relief remind us that the path ahead may be scary, but we can, as humans, adapt to become stronger.