I always wanted to be a doctor. As a child, I was raised on a steady diet of medical dramas—ER, Grey’s Anatomy, and glossy Asian serials (Love Revolution - in a time where Jdramas were a thing) where everyone moved with certainty and never spilled coffee on their
Keep reading →
The upcoming Singapore Medical Humanities Conference is in October 2026. It's about what illness actually means — not what the chart says it means. You should come. Here's why. Learn more Once a year, the people who think about medicine and the people who live with it
Keep reading →
Jean Si-En Behrend
Keep reading →
Geonelynn Gonzaga Turingan
Keep reading →
Lourdes Ducusin Galang
Keep reading →
Mok Yee Hui
Keep reading →
Or: How I Learned to Stop Wondering and Relate to Dr. Cox
Keep reading →
Evangeline Chai
Keep reading →
Kaitlyn Tay
Keep reading →
That one day came. In the manless hospital, the bed emitted sonic signals, tracing his life-flow, sprouting numbers that sang his sad song of health. Humanoid nurses inserted the cannula with unhuman precision. The blueberry drip danced along his veins bargaining for more time. “It is time.” His bed declared.
Keep reading →Personal essays from clinicians, nurses, allied health. The on-call you remember. The patient who stayed with you.
The view from the bed, the bedside, the waiting room. We especially want these — they matter the most.
Lyric, narrative, speculative, silly, mournful. Written on the back of a rounds sheet.
A teddy bear. A box of unopened tea. Write about one object and the story it holds.
Anything you want to look at carefully and tell us about.
A paragraph. A sketch. A single sentence on a post-it. The easiest place to start.
HEART started because medical humanities can sound like a closed club. We don't want to run that room. We want to run the pantry next door, where people come in, make a kopi, and tell you something they haven't been able to say all week.
New pieces arrive roughly twice a month — one featured essay, one shorter piece. No algorithm. No paywall. Unsubscribe in one click.
We read everything. We reply to everything. Any length, any form — a polished essay, a rough draft, a single line on a napkin, a voice memo you don't know what to do with.
Anonymous submissions are welcome — and often the most powerful.
→ send something in