Medicine is a sacrifice. I knew this upon admittance into medical school. I did not know the sacrifice would be an erosion of my humanity.
We, as future health care providers, must recognize that patients affected by mental illnesses will need our support and advocacy. We must also understand that some patients might not have the time or financial stability to seek treatment or therapy. Regardless, we should explore other long-term treatment options and strive to make mental health care easily accessible nationally.
We as medical students and doctors see suffering, moaning and pain on a daily basis. We need to recall that life contains more than joy and the vague term of happiness. Unpleasant emotions are natural parts of life. In order to live a good life, we need not enjoy every moment.
Thomas Jefferson has said his piece and this time I won’t attempt to say anything back. This time I won’t stay silent either. This time, I’ll write.
FQHCs serve complex patients, many with multiple comorbidities that have worsened due to lack of health care, health insurance or distrust of the health care system.
The best mentor-mentee relationships I am a part of have allowed me to make mistakes while encouraging me and giving me targeted ways of doing better the next time around. They have also consisted of developing realistic goals and expectations. But, above all, they have taken what I bring to the table and helped elevate what is already there, not change it.
I can only hope that you, my future physician colleagues, and I can understand the greater meaning of the white coat and fulfill its truest potential. That white coat is now our life, and we must not take it for granted.
Previously, the only health care provider who possessed a doctorate degree was the physician. However, with the rise in educational standards across the United States, many health care professionals now must earn doctorates in their field before even beginning their careers.
We can all make a difference in the quality of health care provided to deaf patients and that difference starts with you.
We, as current and future health care providers, should actively participate in providing our patients with proper support and access to an interpreter.
In retrospect, I regret that she was not allowed to die peacefully. I now am compassionate towards those who opt solely for palliative management in terminal illnesses.
If a provider cannot understand their patient, they are unable to treat them. Likewise, if a patient cannot understand their provider, how can they possibly adhere to their medical advice? “Getting by” is not enough; patients are entitled to someone who speaks their language, no matter how rare.