In 2005, my personal world fragmented. I needed space to grieve. At the same time, as a primary care internal medicine physician, I had ongoing commitments to my patients that demanded focus. I needed a way to detach myself from all the thought channels to maintain clear thinking. So, I wrote poems, 100 of them, one each day. With each, I found and recorded a unique moment. Later, I could only find 99. Did I write the last poem and lose it? Did I miscount? Or had I achieved the balance I needed to move on? I do know that the 100 days became the foundation for a different life. I now face ALS. I went back to where I was years ago to reread my 99 poems, and in doing so, reexperienced the darkest days of my life and the moments that helped me to survive. I am reassured that I had recovered then, that my soul had carried on in the most wonderful ways, and that I came to be surrounded by unexpected love and compassion over the decades that followed. Here are my poetic memories. Some reflect my work as a physician in patient care (with names changed) while others reflect moments previously unnoticed.
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