Please be advised that this story delves into trauma-related topics that may be triggering to the reader They told me about what happened to you, and my heart sank lower and lower as I heard the details. They said you had over 70% body surface area burns. That’s too
Keep reading →When I first came across Zhou Yi Chen (周一忱)’s game dedicated to his grandmother, I was struck by how a video game—of all things—could so powerfully convey the depth of human emotion. This isn’t your typical action-packed or puzzle-solving game; it’s a gentle, heartfelt journey
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Recently in a casual conversation in the ward, a doctor asked me why do MSWs write such lengthy entries which may potentially take up a lot of time on our part, when other members of the team may not have the time to read them. I was mildly disappointed at
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Formation of Bhutan's Palliative Care service It is my privilege to have served as faculty member in the Lien Collaborative for Palliative Care Bhutan program the past 4 modules. During the first 2 modules in 2018 and 2019, the late Prof Cynthia Goh planted the first seeds that
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What is this? What is life? Where is life? Life is here. This is it. The scream of humanity. He came in a chariot of fire. Professor Woo Keng Thye, Emeritus Consultant and Advisor to the Dept of Renal Medicine, Singapore General Hospital is also Clinical Professor in Medicine at
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This week brings a special treat to our readers - we are honored to share not one, but two poetic responses to our recent piece "A hole in the heart." It's deeply moving to see how this personal narrative has resonated with our community, inspiring others
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They call it a defect How can it be? You’re perfect A hole in the wall, doesn’t say it all There’s much more to it, in fact That murmur, that thrill Rendered me far less than thrilled But if there’s a void, then let’s not
Keep reading →You made it, mama! I’m so proud of you! It’s 4am, quiet and calm as you slip silently into the future. No fanfare No weeping and wailing Just you and I in peaceful silence punctuated by your last ‘Ah-Ah’ gently calling out before expiring. Was that your farewell
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It was early on a Sunday morning. A feisty grey-haired elderly lady approached my pharmacy counter, wanting to collect medication for her husband who had just been discharged. I checked the electronic prescription system and informed her, “M’am, your husband’s discharge medication is not ready yet. I will
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Trigger Warning: This post touches on themes of suicide and loss. Please stop reading if you're not comfortable with this topic. I can only imagine The pain your mother felt When she saw you Her beautiful baby girl With porcelain skin Now a young lady Whom she knew
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.
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