The House Medicine Built

Origin Story

She had an epiphany as a child — that love could heal the world. Now, as a seasoned physician, there’s still a part of her that believes in the power of love, but not with the same idealism she once held.

That idealism was shattered one night during her med school years, when a teenage girl was rushed into the trauma bay after a devastating car accident. The team, like a well-oiled machine, sprang into action. She recounts the moment in vivid detail: the blinding lights, the orders being called out, the weight of the girl’s hand in hers. Yet, despite their best efforts, this young woman didn’t make it. “It was unimaginable,” she says, her voice faltering as the memory still brings her to tears. “It shattered me. And I’m still haunted by it, I guess.” Later that same day, as she took off her shoes, she found her socks soaked in the girl’s blood — “That’s when I realized: I’ll always carry them with me.”

She asks for a poem that can stitch together her fractured memories and experiences, a poem where everything belongs as part of a greater whole.

Leigh Finnegan-Hosey, Listener Poet
Gift Listener Poet Session
Featured at VCU’s Good Grief Conference 2025 and on the End of Life University Podcast

Listen here

By Leigh Finnegan-Hosey, Listener Poet

after “The Guest House,” by Rumi

I live in a haunted house.
Every room crowded
with the spectral memory of those
whose earthly exits shaped me,
like water etching paths
through primordial rock.
Here they remain:
old and young —
younger than should be allowed to die —
slipping in and out of rooms,
untouched by time.

Some rage like poltergeists,
flipping tables,
opening trapped doors
where last words
and last looks
rattle
and
reach
and
writhe,
shattering every last wish
I’ve made of medicine.

More are holier ghosts.
In the evening,
they join us
around the dinner table,
swapping stories like kin
of some forgotten family
and I think that while love hasn’t yet
healed the world, it’s got real potential.

Ghost or ghoul,
friend or foe,
I welcome them all in —
no exorcisms required.
Each one carries a part of my story,
just as I carry them
in the red
red soles
of my shoes.

More Poems & Stories

The House Medicine Built

Why Neurologists Write

This person is a neurologist of Romanian descent, in practice in the U.S. for 19 years, who draws inspiration from writers in his heritage. In his writing and work, he seeks to create a safe harbor for humanness while navigating the labyrinths of medicine to reach the essence of the humanity of his patients – even if all they want is a diagnosis or cure.

I Am Stuck on a Wheel That Keeps Turning

This poemee wanted to share her experience as a surgical resident, offering insight into the traditions that define this unique culture: the relentless pressure to succeed, the deference to those in higher positions, and the often-cold interactions that accompany a field-wide drive for speed and efficiency.

List

This new physician was looking forward to starting her OB/GYN residency. Her original goal in undergraduate school was physician assistant studies. But a series of experiences led her to consider a different path: medical school.

No Words Exist (Why They’re Afraid of Us)

“I was at a birth recently and thought: This is why they are so afraid of us. They can’t control this” She sat on her couch with a mug of coffee. She is a queer, femme, mother of two who has worked in reproductive health for over two decades, first in abortion care and now as a doula for all, including queer and non-binary families, through the pregnancy spectrum. She has personally experienced birth, miscarriage, hysterectomy and surgical menopause.

Where Do the Children Play?

A teenage cancer survivor, this poemee shared how she learned from the younger children she witnessed undergoing the same treatment she was. “You just see a difference in the way a child approaches it,” she said. “They have the moment, they have the pain, they have the shot, and then they just go back to playing. I always took strength from the way little kids would handle it.”

We Shall Know Her Name

Conversation with Kimako Desvignes DNP, RN, Associate Director of Oncology with almost 30 years of experience in medicine, was an emotional journey through a history of social injustice and racial discrimination—a reflection on ancestry at times through shared tears. Henrietta Lacks’ story had a powerful impact on us both.

One Human Body

“Sometimes I feel so helpless,” said this resident, reflecting on all of the challenges faced by the young patients and their families whom she served. Over the last several days, she has become increasingly overwhelmed by events in the news and has questioned her ability to make a difference in the world.

Stories with My Father

“It’s hard to watch the decline and sometimes hard to visit but it weighs on me not to,” she said. Her father had always been an elaborate storyteller and an alive, vibrant man with a big voice.

We Matter, Guys

The Good Listening Project was honored to once again take part in the annual KNN conference in Minneapolis this year. Jenny closed the session by writing this harvest poem that captured the voices and sentiments shared.

In The Middle Way

After a history of crippling endometriosis, this woman had an arduous, ongoing struggle with her healthcare community for the right to have a hysterectomy. She was finally granted approval at the age of 29. “It had been like pulling teeth, but finally I felt free,” she told me.

'O ka mele

Her childhood was infused with Hawaiian-Polynesian music and dance, taught to her father by his mother. Today, her life’s work is to connect the unbelievable discoveries of molecularly focused pre-clinical research directly to the patient experience of treatment.

On the darkest days

She is a single mother born to a single mother and had to grow up fast. She is juggling a sticky work situation, her own anxiety and depression, and being away from home and her kids.

This Healing Place

Instead of the usual Listener Poet format – listening to one person’s story and responding with a framing narrative and custom poem – I was invited to create a group poem for forty participants at the Arts in Healing luncheon, hosted by the Inova Health Foundation in partnership with the board.

What You Will Call Me

What does it mean for people living with Sickle Cell Disease to be seen, heard, and understood? For this person, it meant finding – and using – her voice to advocate for herself and for others.

The Beacon

“I’ve experienced a lot of big losses,” she said. “I want to be a beacon of hope and light, keeping the flame lit for cancer prevention.”

Hidden Figures

Professionally, for this person, Henrietta Lacks’ story represents the need to critically examine our research infrastructure. “Private companies benefit from publicly-funded research without a requirement to give back to ensure the viability of future research.”

Mirror Talk

“The fact of my life is a miracle,” she told me. Living with multiple chronic illnesses, this patient spoke to me of her journey with alopecia. Of how, in witnessing her body transformed by the condition, she continues to move at once through grief and reclamation.

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Relationships Are Hard (Especially with Doctors)

“I can’t see a future outside of our relationship,” she tells me, “but I also can’t see a future outside of residency.”

Rooted

“I always believe, no matter what the doctor says, that I will be cured,” she says as her sister sits next to her.

Everyday

“I was at a crossroads about what to do with the rest of my life.”

Prayer for Peace

For many years, this patient has avoided confrontation in pursuit of peace.

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The Mind is a Rabbit Making Warrens of its Grief

“I wonder if these medical professionals, in caring for people who face such insurmountable odds, walk around all the time carrying this weight I’m hauling now.”

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Just Maybe

His empathy only reminded him that he could not help those in pain.

Kunal’s Kavita

He had been trying to cope with the grief ever since and was on a quest for soul-searching and meaning-making.

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Tinder

She spoke about the ways this traumatic event shaped who she is today: a person with an “unshakeable peace” born of deep faith,

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Caterpillar? No, Butterfly

"I don’t know what I’m doing,” but this time, she admonished the negative self-talk.

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Crab Shell

She wanted to help people feel comfortable and transform the shame around colon issues. "I want to talk about things that matter, the things people don't want to discuss.