Can you remember your first year of clinical practice? Do you remember your first doctors visit as an adult? Or your most healing? Do you remember how another's pulse feels under your fingers?
Gently cupping her foot in my left hand I remember my patient giving birth the morning before. Her discomfort so intense. She had placed her fear into a holding pattern as I introduced myself. I had touched her foot in the stirrups instead of shaking hands, her husband occupying the space closest to her face and arms. Now returning to this movement, baby lying at her breast, occupying her hands, I smile. She wiggles her toes in welcome. My feeling of privilege visceral. Observing her movements I remember to feel exactly the weight of that foot.
Because she welcomes me and my gentle science.