Unclench

Maria Del Pico

I wake up, my jaw clenched tight, forcing my retainer up into my gums.

Unclench.

Try to forget about the bad dream.

Get ready for school.

Spoke with Mom on the way home from a 24-hour shift.

How is your day? 

My answer makes her cry. 

I won’t answer so honestly next time.

I just wanted to hear her stories about the 5-year-olds in her 1st grade class.

Anything instead of reliving the events I witnessed that day. 

Call Grandma on my walk home from classes. 

Did you have to be with those dead bodies again?

Anatomy lab was today, yes, Grandma. 

I promise we’re respectful, and no, I don’t like it. 

I just wanted to hear her normal complaints about the squirrels in her backyard eating all her birdseed.

Anything instead of the heaviness I had to push through.

Small talk with acquaintances at a party.

You actually want to do that for a living? I could never.

Yes, I’m drawn to it, like a moth to a lamp, in a way that’s sometimes hard to explain to others who don’t feel the same pull.

I am still trying to hold onto my passion despite the difficult training. 

I just wanted to hear about their kids, pets, or weekend plans.

Anything instead of them questioning my path and unintentionally planting seeds of doubt.

Eat dinner, sit down, notice my jaw clenched again, bracing for impact.

Unclench.

Write the feelings down, release the happenings of today from my mind.

Quietly reflect. 

Remember my passion for medicine. 

Find meaning in what threatens to break me.

Squash the doubt. 

Feel reinvigorated.

Jaw unclenched, go to bed. 

Maria DelPico is an aspiring geriatrician and MS3 at UMass Chan Medical School in the PURCH program.