Invariably, these archival JPEGs segue to conversations about simpler times, family and friends whom we cherished and who have since passed, and my parents’ understandable desire that we take a break from our harried lives to spend more quality time together.
While my career as a hematologist has offered me the opportunity for lifelong learning and the unique privilege of caring for often desperately ill patients, past months and years have become a blurry turnstile of evanescent relationships — patients with hematolymphoid neoplasms who have fought the good fight and passed away, and trainees and colleagues who have entrusted our friendship, mentorship, and collegiality, then transitioned to a life away from my home institution at Stanford. This is not unexpected, of course, but it’s also not particularly palatable.
And this brings me back to photography. I enjoy it for some of the conventional reasons one would expect, including my need to indulge my creative side and subdue cognitive tendencies related to the oft-rote and algorithmic practice of medicine.