Working in medicine forces Brian Smith to confront mortality, but advice from a patient helps him cope on darker days.
As a medical student, I have the privilege of meeting patients in the hospital. I get a front-row seat to humanity – to the most vulnerable and intense moments of people’s lives. Every conversation is a chance to learn not only about medicine but also about life.
I recently had the pleasure of talking with an elderly couple. The patient was a gentleman diagnosed with terminal cancer. Despite his dire prognosis, there was an air of serenity and warmth in the hospital room, which was full of fresh flowers and soft jazz.
During our conversation, the patient and his wife shared stories about the life they had built together. They smiled and said they were preparing a gift for their children. They had handwritten letters to each. They had also recorded audio and video messages so their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and beyond could hear and see them (even if they never met in life).
The patient turned to me and said, “Life is fleeting. One day, all you’ll have left are the memories. Do yourself a favor, young man, and start keeping memoirs of the people you love before they’re gone.”