As music is a universal healer
Of all that ails us, our troublers
Of all that weighs down our spirit
And makes the heart heavy with pain.
 
No matter what the affliction
Or what wind blows it in
All can get stopped by a note
Played on the strings of the soul
Or drums of the heart.
 
Though the pain of the deprived
And the tears of a hungry child
Can shout out with anger
The melody of a tune
Can shine a light and lift the spirit.
 
And if one thing is sure in life
Is that the sky is darkest before dawn
Through all the cruelty and despair, shine
Comes from hope, and hope always rises
As the crescendo of a song.
 
And all that trouble can get sung away.
So, bring it on, oh whisperers of melodies and hope,
Make it sing. Make it sing for us all.

Reza Ghadimi
March 2023

It was late in the evening on a miserable night with a very thick fog covering everything. I was stationed at the USAF Hospital in Lakenheath, England, and working the ER that night. We were dealing with the victims of a bad head on collision, on the notoriously narrow English country roads.
What made this night different enough that, fifty years later I still remember it, was the circumstances surrounding it. It was Spring equinox, which occurred on the weekend. I was looking forward to traveling to London for the equinox celebrations with family members. Imagine my disappointment when I found my name on the roster to cover the ER that weekend. So, I bribed a colleague to switch days with me, but was told that he could work the weekend but not Friday. Still, I agreed, planning to drive to London after work that night. But everything seemed to work against me, as the exceptionally thick fog rolled in, making it impossible to drive the long distance. The injured from the accident had arrived late, and by regulation I had to remain at my post until patients from my shift were taken care of, admitted or discharged. So, I gave up and surrendered to faith that I was going to miss the festivities.
As it happened, I later learned that the fog was even worse in London, and the British police had closed a big section of the road due to ice that night. The colleague, with whom I had made the arrangement to work for me, could not make it back, and I ended working the entire weekend after all.
The weekend turned out one of the busiest in the history of our hospital. The inclement weather kept many home, forcing those of us already on duty to remain there. Several more accidents of all kinds, brought an unusually large number of patients to our door. I, then, remembered a similar incident several years earlier, when during the great power blackout in New York City, many of our colleagues couldn’t get to work, as subways were out of order. Many accidents and injuries brought a large number to our ER, necessitating the setup of an emergency triage area. I mentioned that to the doctor in charge of our military ER and he agreed, asking me to set it up.
It worked well and we survived the onslaught better than any of us hoped for. I received a letter of commendation for that weekend - actually we all did. That letter was instrumental for my promotion, next time the promotion board met – and paid off nicely. Once again proving – to me at least – the value of experience.

My life in medicine started as a young boy.  I was brought up by my grandmother, who was a powerful curandera. Though she was practically illiterate, her knowledge of home remedies, botany, and common-sense healthcare was well known and she was highly respected. Growing in her care, I learned much just by watching and often helping her.
As many who have read my book: Practicing From the Heart in the Age of Technology can attest, I have high respect for women of medicine. Many stories in my book are of experiences working with them around the world. It gave me a perspective on healthcare which otherwise would not have been possible:
A wonderful nun and nurse with whom I had the privilege of working in Southern Colorado, would often drive many miles on mountainous and dangerous roads of the area to deliver care to people who - due to mental disabilities - were not even aware of her presence. I learned a lot from that lady, particularly obstetrics, as I helped her home-deliver several babies. Some under extremely trying conditions, as many families lived in primitive conditions without electricity or plumbing.
Dr. Helen Rodriguez-Trias, practiced at Lincoln Hospital in South Bronx, NY, when I was in my residency at that hospital.  The programs she started and the way she practiced medicine, touched many of us. She said: “We need health, but above all we need to create a grounding for healthy public policy that redresses and salvages the growing inequities. We cannot achieve a healthier us without achieving a healthier, more equitable health care system, and ultimately, a more equitable society.”
And my favorite, Dr. Angela Ramirez, a female Puerto Rican physician. She was a surgical resident at Elmhurst Hospital in NY when I was a nineteen-year-old tech working in the ER. When she learned of my background of working in surgery back in my home country, she took special interest in teaching me, and encouraging me to pursue medicine.
Another lady I have the honor of knowing is Doctor Regina Benjamin.  Her history is most fascinating and enlightening.  Born in Mobile, Alabama, to a poor family, she was the first from her family to receive an M.D.
Dr. Benjamin was the first African-American female physician appointed the U.S. Surgeon General in 2009 — appointed by President Barack Obama. 
I have had the opportunity to meet and work with many people like them in my years of medical work.  I learned more from them than all the schooling I received otherwise.  Perhaps the greatest and most important lesson has been how to be compassionate in the face of adversity, care for everyone even when they themselves stop caring.  How to teach while learning and learn while teaching.  As Maya Angelou once said; “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”