1/ I just finished this beautiful, courageous, and searing memoir “I Can’t Save You” by @CQ__MD. It was . . . in a word. . . sublime.
Whew.
And full disclosure—as his former med school advisor & friend—I love Dr. CQ.
But.
I also love books and honesty.
And he knows that.
2/ @CQ__MD will be the first to tell you that I won’t endorse anything—even a book my my beloved little bro CQ—unless I’d read it myself and believed others should, too.
And now I have.
And wholeheartedly I do.
But before you jump in—and you should—let me say this. . .
3/ There are some parts that explore depression, thoughts of suicide, and self-harm. No, not recklessly. But yes, with raw honesty. So you need to know that up front.
He does NOT play it safe around his lived experiences as a Black man in the ivory tower.
So hold on tight.
4/ But what @CQ__MD does do is go there. In a way so magnificently vulnerable that you’ll find yourself gasping. Or just putting it down to breathe.
I felt a lot of the feelings I felt when reading @KieseLaymon’s “Heavy.”
And that’s a HELLA high compliment.
Yeah, it is.
5/ The extra dope part though is that there’s an @audible_com version—narrated by @CQ__MD himself. I can’t recommend this enough. Because….ooooh…I won’t spoil it.
If you ain’t ready for some realness? Then this ain’t for you.
But if you are—and I HOPE you are—cop this book.
6/ And if you listen to it, purchase one for your bookshelf, too. I do that with all important books that I enjoy on audio.
Yup.
Okay @CQ__MD. So I finally stopped crying long enough to say this. I’m forever proud of you.
1/ I had imagined what this day would be like. Played it out in my head and saw various iterations of me exploding in celebration.
In some versions, I was doing the running man or, quite literally, running in triumphant circles, #MatchDay envelope in hand.
"Wooo hooo!"
2/ I also saw these visions of me quietly weeping, one hand extended to the heavens in gratitude. My lips quietly murmuring prayers of thanksgiving.
See, I was my ancestors' wildest dreams. And not even just my enslaved ancestors but the Jim Crow survivors who raised me, too.
3/ So, yeah. This was about to be big.
I was even on the #MatchDay party committee. And since we were broke, that meant soliciting donations from faculty & parents & anybody who felt proud enough of us to shell out a few coins.
Her: “Yeah, it’s been tough since my mama died.”
Me: “Oh no. I don’t think I knew that. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Her: “I appreciate that.”
*silence*
Me: “Had your mom been sick?”
Her: “Yes. She was.”
*silence*
2/ She turned her head to me and held my gaze.
Her: “Know what else she was?”
Me: *listening*
Her: “She was my mama.”
Ooph.
I parted my lips to speak but nothing came out. She touched my arm and smiled.
Her: “She was sick. She was up in age. She was all of those things.”
3/ Her: “But still. Before ALL that she was and is my mama.”
Me: *listening*
Her: “And if they was good to you? I’m not too sure it’s ever a good time to say goodbye to your mama for good.”
Them: “Okay, I’ll dial up a Spanish interpreter while we walk over.”
Me: “Oooooh. Can we call for the in-person one instead?”
*silence*
Me: *starts dialing* “They come quick, I promise.”
Them: “No. . . umm. . . it’s fine.”
It did not seem fine.
2/ Though it’s been over 20 years, I remember what it was like to be a resident. I also remember the dreaded feeling of an attending speed breaker when I was trying to get a lot done.
Me: “I know it takes a little longer to call an interpreter.”
Them: “It’s cool.”
*silence*
3/ Me: “You know why I like in-person interpreters?”
Them: “No. . . they’re great. It’s fine, I promise.”
Me: “For the shenanigans.”
Them: *stops walking* “Wait. What?”
Me: “You can’t really get into too much random mischief over the phone or the tablet.”
You looked at me and smirked. I paused with my hand on the switch.
You: “That’s in the script?”
Me: “Say what now?”
You: “What my druthers is when it come to anything.”
You chuckled.
You: “We don’t call no shots.”
Ooph.
2/ Me: *nervous laugh*
You: “Y’all be asking stuff like we got a say. But then y’all do what y’all want. Wake you up and stick you with a needle. Put some cold hands on you. Talk your damn head off.”
Me: “Ouch.”
*laughter*
You: “Oh wait. You do get to pick what you gon’ eat.”
3/ Neighbor in next bed: *yelling* “Buuuuuuull-shit!”
*laughter*
Neighbor: “They got me on soup with no noodles and jello!”
Me: *chuckling* “Maybe your doctor wants you on clear foods and liquids.”
You: “Or maybe your doctor just doing whatever they feel like.”