I recently attended a panel entitled “Women in Surgery,” where medical students had the opportunity to ask female surgery residents how they navigate what is still a mostly male-dominated field and hear their take on that ever-elusive “work life balance.” Two out of three women on the panel said they had frozen their eggs, adding that half of their female co-residents had done the same. The third was pregnant. As women make up more and more of the physician workforce, and as non-traditional paths to medical school become more commonplace, it’s becoming more evident that women in their training years are also in their prime reproductive years. And residency programs need to recognize that.
With the future of the Affordable Care Act uncertain under President Trump, many Americans are left worrying how they will manage without health care. The Americans who must shoulder this burden are disproportionately people of color. It should come as no surprise to those familiar with the history of health care in this country that once again our system, purportedly built to protect and promote health, is systematically ignoring the right to health care for communities of color.
Not sure? Uncomfortable? The popular advice is it to just “fake it until you make it.” Since starting medical school, I have heard students repeat the phrase frequently as a way to grapple with novel and occasionally unsettling situations, as well as the extensive amount of knowledge we are expected to rapidly acquire and apply.
Like most people, I watched the Ebola plague tear through Africa two years ago with a feeling of helpless horror. I saw the victims dying by the thousands on television, all eulogized by the same stark words: “No cure.” There seemed to be some unstoppable and malevolent force in the universe, seeking not only the destruction of human life, but hope itself.
Physicians across many specialties are treating trafficked persons in their practice. Yet they are not trained to recognize human trafficking or know how to intervene. Studies have shown that 88 percent of US-born sex trafficking victims reported receiving medical care while being trafficked.
With the increased awareness surrounding mental health that has come over the course of the 21st century, many more people are aware of PTSD. Our understanding of it has come a long way from the earliest accounts of “soldier’s heart” during the Civil War era, or even what was termed “shell shock” during World War 1. However, there are still some common misconceptions surrounding PTSD, which I hope to debunk here.
At this point, most medical students either know someone obsessed with podcasts, or are obsessed with the medium themselves. With shows on everything from broader pop culture to reading novels as spiritual texts, the podcasting boom allows anyone — including medical students — to engage their most niche interests on their own schedule. Given, however, the diversity and sheer volume of podcasts out there, it is be easy to become overwhelmed or miss a quality show or episode. Below are eight episodes, ranging from traditional interviews to creative nonfiction, that even the busiest medical student should take a break to listen to.
On January 20, 2017, Donald J. Trump was inaugurated as the 45th President of the United States, giving control of the White House, the House and the Senate to the Republican Party. Congress is expected to move quickly on President Trump’s agenda: one of the top priorities is the repeal of the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act.
On a late March day in 2010, President Barack Obama signed the Affordable Care Act into law. For many Americans, it was a day of celebration as they would finally be able to get the healthcare they needed at a price they could afford. For others it was a day of frustration and confusion, because even from the beginning it was apparent that this plan was not perfect. Over the past six years we have watched the success and failures of the bill as it was slowly put into action. In that time more than 20 million people have gained health insurance.
Whenever I go to the hospital, I wear my grandpa’s socks. They looked distinguished on an older man, but a little childish on a me, a 25-year-old medical student. I’m okay with that. Feeling like an overdressed kid on Easter helps to balance the overwhelming pressure of becoming a physician.
Following the event, we resolved to dedicate our efforts to raising awareness at Einstein about domestic sex trafficking. We knew our colleagues might be just as uninformed as we had been. Later that year, we developed research on how to best teach sex-trafficking issues to medical school students.
When I was six, a set of strawberry hair ties foiled my endeavor for independence. My mother had a way of twisting the plastic ornaments at the end of her operation so they sat together like two friends on a bus, neat and obedient at the crown of my head. Despite my assertions, (“I can do it myself!”) I could never align their orbits.