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Immortalizing the Mortal 2023
Close to Home
In Collaboration with McGill's Maude Abbott Medical Museum

Ectopic pregnancy specimen in Fallopian tube (ovary at bottom left)

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What does it mean to belong somewhere and, by contrast, what does it means to be an outsider and to experience the challenge of growing in an unfamiliar place? This year, students were asked to reflect on these questions, inspired by the specimen above and the following quote by James Baldwin.

"Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition"

Your Home
Meygan Brody MDCM '26

They say that home is where the heart is

From what the doctor says, your heart lives

Above my hips right below my waist

So your home is the very center of me

 

I’m a tent, a cabin, a shelter

I’ll protect you from the elements

I’ll be the elements you’ll need—

A house with light and food and heat

 

You’ll see, our house is not that big

There are bigger ones down the street

With parents and cute little kids

Who play with little baby dolls

 

The dolls will grow up and so will the kids

And you’ll grow up outside of me too

Maybe one day you’ll call one of those kids

Your comfort place, your second half, your home

 

Soon you’ll leave to the outside of me

My body grew and stretched for you

You grew and stretched inside it too

But will you shrink and shrivel with me?

 

For now, our two hearts beat together

But will you need my heartbeat forever?

For now, your house is where my heart is

Your home will always be where my heart is.  

A word from the artist: The first time I looked at this year’s specimen, the only thing I could think of was what it must be like to be pregnant and to be responsible for growing an entire new human being. But then I figured I have absolutely no idea what that feeling is like, and I should respect the mantra to only write about things I know. So I started to think some more about what the theme of “home” means to me. It’s obvious that home is a physical place, but home can also be found in the comfort and peace of another person. That’s a beautiful thing, but being someone else’s home can also be a lot of responsibility. Women especially are depended on to offer up security, safety, and nurturing. While I may not have ever experienced pregnancy, I definitely do know that feeling and do have an innate sense of what motherhood is. I wanted to explore the pressure of motherhood—the responsibility of a mother to be her child’s home, the oneness of a mother and her child, and also the anxiety that stems from knowing that one day that oneness will dissipate. As a woman, I know that my physical body has the capacity to nourish another being—and so I also wanted to delve into the tension—and the synergy—between the idea of home as a physical place, and of home as a more abstract feeling of safety and of wellbeing.

Comfort
Angelina Low, MDCM '25

A word from the artist:  Growing up, I always thought of home as the house I lived in—postal code and all. However, as I grew older and met incredible people, I realized that home is more than just a physical house. Home is found in the people around us, our family and our friends. It’s found in those that make us feel safe, understood and comforted. ​

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When I feel down, sometimes just knowing that someone is there for me is what I need. Even though words are reassuring, comfort can also come in other forms—like a pat on the back, a hug, a person willing to listen to you vent, or simply a shoulder to lean on. In this comic, I wanted to illustrate that feeling. 

Maybe
Sam Amar, MDCM '26

I am ectopic 

I don’t belong 

I can’t say how much more I’ll be carried along 

I cannot think

I don’t have a brain

Despite all of this I am still causing pain 

I wonder in whom I have happened to be 

I am ectopic, ectopic is me 

 

Maybe I’m inside a mother to be 

She was so excited, now sadness remains

Maybe I’m in one who doesn’t want me

Finally now she’ll be free from her chains

Maybe I’m inside a mother of three

Her kids provide comfort while she sits and cries 

Maybe I’m in one who calls himself he

The victim of healthcare docs’ stigma and lies 

 

Despite all my wonders I won’t ever know

Which of these stories is actually so 

Cuz I’m not a baby so don’t call me that

I’m just a pregnancy, that is a fact

I cannot feel, and I cannot drink

but many believe that I’m able to think

 

But you

You’re able to speak, you’re able to act

But your thoughts and your words could could make some feel attacked 

Please do not judge, and please don’t assume 

Your patients may take what you say to the tomb

A word from the artist: When I first heard of this event, I actually wanted to write a short story from the point of view of the fetus, and design a life for it. As I tried to give this fetus thoughts and build it a life, I realized that what I was doing could easily be a pro-lifer campaign to get people to be against abortion. Working with this thought, I decided to go in the opposite direction and remind you all that, first of all, fetuses don’t have a life and aren’t able to think in the ways born humans can, and shouldn’t be treated as such. Also, as healthcare workers, we can’t make assumptions about anyone’s circumstances, especially in situations as sensitive as pregnancy, and our inadvertent assumptions may hurt our patients. 

ECTOPIA
Alice Beauchet, MDCM '25

A word from the artist: Growing up and moving around every three years into a different house, city or country, it is hard for me to think of a home with a specific place in mind. When I think of home, up until now, I rather envision where my parents are because they always were the ones creating an environment that made me feel at home, no matter the place. In this new fearful and unknown environment represented by the fragile cracking shell, they were the flourishing nature where I felt safe, slowly transforming this hostile outer shell into my new home.

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 However, sometimes, despite someone giving all effort into their new home, the environment they find themselves in will never feel like home. This hostile crackling shell is a place where they cannot grow and get fulfilled, which can, in turn, slowly rubs off into the internal home they are trying to build. Like an ectopic pregnancy, despite all the love given, the environment is not viable, slowly turning itself into a dystopia. On the other hand, sometimes, the inner shell is the one hostile but the outer environment they live in will be the one that gradually makes them flourish and able to create their new home. Like outliers defining all the odds, such as rare abdominal pregnancies, they turned their environment into a utopia.

Mom, guide me home
Élodie Marceau, MDCM '26

There was a cell, then two, then more

There was a limb, then two, then four

There was a part of you growing freely

And that part of you became me

 

For a brief season I was your all

I was the source of your summer bliss

I could feel the smile on your lips

But every summer is followed by a fall

 

We fell from the highest cloud

When the man in white called me ectopic

Of all the ways he could describe me to the crowd

This was the worst word he could pick

 

They say I got stuck

On my way down of a tube

Fallopian they call it

Fall of our plan I shout it

 

How unfair

I won the race against trillions of swimmers

But could not dive to the end of this column

It’s like finishing at the olympics first

And failing to get up on the podium

 

I am just like my brothers

Look mom;

Look at my fingers

Look at my toes

 

I am just like my sisters

Look mom;

I can play violin

I can run to the shore

 

Give me a chance and I’ll make you proud

Show me the way and I’ll walk unbowed

Push me down centimeters and I’ll grow up meters

Guide me home and I’ll lay in your arms

 

Yet, if there is one thing

I want more than living

It’s to avoid hurting my mom

I’ll make it easy;

I’m choosing you over me

 

Your tummy was my temporary abode

My true home lies in your heart

And your mind is my retreat

It is now time

Guide me home, mom, guide me home

A word from the artist: My goal is first to capture how healthy and developed the foetus is; how it’s fatal condition is only dependant on the place he is rather than the state he is in. I decided to write this poem in the point of you of the foetus talking to its mother. We can appreciate the evolution of its definition of Home. At first, the Home is an unfair place where he can never get to; then, the foetus’ Home becomes its mothers’ heart, achievable after the ultimate sacrifice.

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心里 (At Heart)
Ying Chen, MDCM '25

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A word from the artist: This work represents elements of my life that feed into my personal definition of home and belonging, along with more universal themes such as alienation, loneliness, exploring new horizons, being uprooted from a familiar place and  having a guiding light in a storm. The title is in Chinese because of the impact growing up in Canada, away from my extended family, has had on my perception of what a home is. The bottom of the work is a crocheted element that represents blood leaking of the heart and the constant change and renewal of homes throughout one's life.

Enfermé.e.s dehors
Lucie Dubes, MDCM '24

Enfermé.e.s dehors

Même si ce n’est pas dit comme ça

Parce qu’on priorise la vie d’abord

Aux dépens du libre choix

 

Enfermé.e.s dehors

Là où on ne l'interdit pas

Ca demandera plus d’un effort

Mais on ne les arrêtera pas

 

Enfermés dehors

Car dedans on n’en veut pas

Dehors non plus d’ailleurs

Mais ça ne nous regarde pas

 

Enfermés dehors

Là où les autres ne les voient pas

Loin des yeux, loin du cœur

C’est comme s’iels n’étaient pas là

 

Enfermé.e.s dehors

Même si dehors il fait plus froid

Ils avaient qu’à être là d’abord

Et puis dehors c’était leur choix

 

Enfermé.e.s dehors

Quand le soleil brûle aux éclats

Qu’il soit d’argent ou bien d’or

Leur silence les protégera

 

Enfermé.e.s dehors

C’est pire qu’être délivré dedans

Non ce n’est pas une métaphore

Quand c’est une question de droits

 

Enfermé.e.s dehors

C’est mieux d’être libre pourtant

Non ce n’est pas un oxymore

Juste une réalité que l’on taira

Foothold
Eden VanDevanter, MDCM '23

07 IMG_7892-1 copy.jpg

Black Hole
Celine Prell, MDCM '23

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