Last class, we had the honor of hearing from Dr. Colleen Kraft and Dr. Clifford Gunthel. Rather than delivering a typical presentation with PowerPoint slides, the speakers chose to run an interactive session featuring a film documenting the story of a couple suffering from AIDS. The film was compelling, especially since several friends shared that they were fighting back tears while engaging with the video. For me, one theme stood out: how Mark deals with the loss of Tom.

One scene that caused me to cry (which only worsened my sickness-induced symptom of watery eyes) was seeing Tom’s body shortly after he passed away. The gravity of AIDS became even more abundantly clear as I could not imagine how one would feel to view their loved one in such a final state. However, I vividly recall hearing Mark sing “You Are My Sunshine” by Jasmine Thompson; the voice breaks in Mark’s singing as he was weeping were immensely painful, and there were numerous times that I wanted to cover my ears as the scene made my heart break. However, I was immediately reminded of my time shadowing a physician at a neuro-ICU. At the neuro-ICU, I saw countless families lose loved ones and cope in numerous ways, ranging from singing to performing religious rituals to screaming. Especially when a patient is at the neuro-ICU for a critical condition, family members are aware of the possibility that their loved one may not make it. However, knowing that information already did not make the neuro-ICU losses any easier, similar to Mark’s loss of Tom.

Another impactful scene in the film involved Mark sharing how silly it felt to read a book on the several stages of grief. I recall him explaining that reading the text seemed trivial, considering he knows how he feels and does not need to be explained that he may be undergoing the stage of denial or acceptance. Hearing the aforementioned dialogue made me ponder how it must feel to read books about other conditions while having first-hand experiences with the condition. For example, when one is anxious and quite overwhelmed, I imagine it would not be beneficial to read descriptions of how one could be stressed. Therefore, I believe that texts such as those about grief for one who lost a loved one should be carefully written with advice to manage pain rather than descriptions that people could describe as ‘mansplaining.’ This scene also reminded me of my time shadowing a physician at a neuro-ICU. When prepping for a meeting with a family that lost a family member, I was told by the physician to avoid explaining their pain as such a conversation can appear insensitive and condescending by unintentionally minimizing the grief of the family.