My S.O is a physician working in Houston, and he missed Hurricane Harvey over the weekend, being out of town for a conference. The hospital sent out an S.O.S. asking faculty to do their best to come in. As the Houston airports continued to be closed Monday and Tuesday, he and his colleague, also a physician and a native of Houston, flew to another airport and drove a few hours back to the flood. I am proud of them, and salute the doctors/nurses/technicians/staff that rode out

On a particularly sultry day in a hospital of the Peruvian Amazon, I found myself with the task of telling a group of parents that their babies, who had been waiting in the hallways for days without eating in preparation for surgery, would not be able to have their cleft lip and palate fixed. We, a group of American doctors and medical staff offering this procedure free of charge to a population without access to a plastic surgeon, had overbooked our week out of eager hopeful

I am the Sick resident this month. Instead of seeing check-ups and doing physicals, I see walk-in patients and triage same-day appointments. When my desk phone rings, the standard greeting in clinic is “This is Amy – Sick.” After a few days, I started joking that I am to be called the Well resident from now on. Some people laughed, and many said “what would that mean?” Somewhere between the 50th and 100th child with fever + cough +/- diarrhea, I realized the truth in jest. Mo

I was going to write about wellness this week, but events from the world demand more attention. And our corner of the world is especially unwell. I went to medical school in Charlottesville. No city deserves to be overtaken by this ugliness, but I especially never imagined Charlottesville would catapult to national fame as a horrific hashtag. No, #Charlottesville is history, academia, growing hipsterism, Monticello, winery for miles, farm to table food, community, Blue Ridge