We’ve known each other so long I’ve forgotten how we first met.
What caught my eye?
The joy on the faces of others
The way the light glistened, highlighting
a certain smoothness and simplistic beauty.
Surrounded by various companions,
I’m sure you were radiant that day.
Perhaps a friend introduced us
I’m not sure I would have been adventurous enough to approach on my own
And what a beautiful name you had.
Hummus
Since that dramatic first encounter, hummus has risen to the top of my “favorite snacks” list. Hummus holds a special place in my heart, and it has played a critical role in my residency experience.
Traditional hummus is a blend of chickpeas and tahini (sesame paste) with lemon juice, garlic, and olive oil. The origins of hummus are controversial. The Lebanese, Turks, Syrians, Jewish, and Egyptians all have claims. Hummus has seen an explosion of popularity in the United States, as well as the international stage. I frequently stock my refrigerator with a healthy supply.
Hummus Days
Everyone talks about how residency can be tedious and stressful. It’s true. You move through the fear and anxiety surrounding the start of new rotations, fielding difficult patient encounters on a busy day, managing mountains of ancillary work, and still have to find time to live. Some days you just want something good. I’ve come to think of those as Hummus Days.
After a long day of clinic, writing notes becomes more tolerable with a side of hummus and pita chips. On a day when my wellness tank is only half-full, I top it off with some hummus. Maybe I eat a little more than I should but that’s OK, hummus won’t tell.
Every day is made better with hummus.
The Worst Day of Residency
Some days, however, are beyond the powers of hummus.
It was the 11th day of being sick. Endless amounts of green mucus were coming from my nose. I had a terrible cough that produced the same. I was just starting my surgery rotation and had missed the first two days. Exacerbating my physical misery was the fact that I had to give a presentation at our morning conference the following day.
As I struggled to prepare this five-minute presentation, I noticed tears begin to form. They were tears of complete mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion. Working on my sick day, I felt like I couldn’t catch a break. I felt guilty for taking the days off. I felt beaten down.
Earlier that week, a former Duke resident had committed suicide. In recognition of this loss, via our Graduate Medical Education newsletter, we received a reminder to look out for one another and pay attention to ourselves. I felt supported by the important message, but it also implied something more: This could happen to you, too.
Now, in this moment of vulnerability, all of the unprocessed emotions flooded through. I wondered if initially feeling beaten down then becomes hopelessness and despair and ends with a desperate need to escape.
I texted one of my loved ones to share how I was feeling. After a brief conversation, the tears ended, and I finished my presentation slides.
I wish I could say that there was some grand sign that ultimately made me feel better. It makes for a better story. Something like,
In the sky I saw two clouds kissing softly under the gentle sunlight and I knew everything was going to be OK.
But there was no grand sign. My primary thought was, “Everything is bad right now, and that’s OK.” All I needed was someone else to acknowledge it.
I have been fortunate to have built a number of strong relationships in life with people who truly understand me. We’re tethered together by our connections. That day I pulled on a string and there was someone on the other side. That was enough.
Find the Hummus in Your Life
On my worst day of residency, I knew who I could rely on, just as I had relied on hummus in the past. Hummus is only a small part of a sustainable wellness plan, but it highlights some basic principles.
Hummus provides simple comfort. It fills a hole—judgment free—and reminds me to actively seek the spaces and people that allow me to be vulnerable. Hummus has a wonderful consistency that is smooth, creamy, and dependably delicious. It reminds me to find the people in my life who provide the same consistency on which I can depend on day in and day out. Just as hummus comes in many flavors (red pepper, pine nuts, black olive tapenade), so does a robust support system, composed of loved ones near and far. They are the ones who message me, call, and send funny memes. They celebrate my victories and support me in my failures.
Hummus is the beautiful, garlicky paste that binds us together.
If you’re thinking this is an incredibly cheesy metaphor, you’re wrong. Hummus has no cheese, but it has plenty of love.
Andrew Yuan, M.D., is a first-year resident with the Duke Family Medicine Residency Program. Email andrew.yuan@duke.edu with questions.
Editor’s note: Duke Family Medicine residents guest blog every month. Blogs represent the opinion of the author, not the Duke Family Medicine Residency Program, the Department of Family Medicine and Community Health, or Duke University.