I am yet to come across a word more profoundly subjective than privilege. What is normal for you may be someone else’s wildest dream. Though it is a phrase we hear so often and easily brush aside, I wonder if we ever truly look into the depths of the meaning it holds. Last week,…
The internal monologue remains one of the most compelling frontiers of human psychology, yet it is notoriously difficult to quantify because thoughts rarely possess a distinct beginning or a definitive end. While general research suggests the human brain produces between 6,000 and 60,000 thoughts daily, for those of us wired a certain way, that…
We are shaped by the people we meet. When you are privileged enough to hold the power to be a life-changing catalyst in someone’s story, your own life is carved, bit by bit, by the essence of each of those souls.I have had the distinct privilege of being a physician—more specifically, a physician whose…
This infusion day began with my daughter’s football match—the semi-finals of a tournament that has become her world.My daughter, Sanaya, entered this world as a fighter. Born preterm and at a low birth weight, her first 72 hours were spent in the ICU, struggling for every breath through a high-flow oxygen cannula. She survived,…
A rut hole is a deep, narrow depression or pit carved into the earth, typically forged by the repeated passage of heavy tires or hooves over soft, yielding terrain.In a philosophical sense, the rut hole serves as a visceral metaphor for stagnation and the erosion of agency. While a physical rut is merely a…
The concept of love remains a debate in intellectual history, with definitions spanning from biological necessity to divine transcendence. Love is often categorized through the Greek taxonomy, distinguishing between *Eros* (passion), *Philia* (friendship), and *Agape* (selfless devotion), suggesting affection is a spectrum of bonds rather than a singular experience. Plato envisioned love as a…
I find myself questioning whether these infusion mornings are inherently chaotic, or if they only feel that way because my own reserves of patience and energy are running so low. Work does not pause for anyone; in my world, work does not stop even at the threshold of death. Yet, here I am again,…
Last week, I returned to South Korea—a place that, for me, is synonymous with peace, comfort, and the warmest of memories. Our journey began in Jeju, an island shaped by volcanic fire and the relentless rhythm of the sea. There is a specific kind of beauty in a place that has survived every extreme…
This Friday, I am anchored in restlessness. I have a journey to Seoul awaiting me this Sunday, yet even the anticipated vibrance of the cherry blossoms—blooms I have longed to see—cannot overpower the heavy darkness that has settled over today. My heart keeps drifting back to those few months in Seoul years ago, when…
Fridays seem to be arriving with a newfound velocity, sweeping in faster than they once did. It is a typical morning at work—a rhythmic cycle of questions, answers, meticulous plans, and drug charts. As I begin wrapping everything up, I find myself back at RHDU Bed 3, reunited with my 26-gauge needles and the…