Nationally, our current medical education model fails to address the fundamental tenets of the U.S. health care system, health care policy, and business management. Despite the recent major shift in health care policy, medical schools have proved universally inept at equipping future doctors with the knowledge and tools they need to influence policy in their professional field and to thrive in their careers.
It has been a couple of months since I started collecting medical data at a local jail in Southern California. It easily became routine: I exchange my I.D. for a clip-on visitor’s badge, take the button-less elevator and hand signal the medical floor number, and wait for the security-monitored heavy steel doors to slide open and let me in.
It has become more and more evident with time that the health care delivery system in the United States is riddled with issues, which have led to many disagreements about policy because there is no clear and universally acceptable solution to our problems.
Dr. Pablo Rodriguez, an OB/GYN, doesn’t have a typical office. Inside are rows of hanging plaques and accolades, a photo of him with former President Bill Clinton, and a set of microphones, connected to a radio broadcasting system. A sign that says “Latino Public Radio” hangs above on the back wall.
We are in agreement. A robust and intellectual discussion of health care reform requires knowledge of the factors in play. Yet, we are deeply troubled by the simplicity and lack of nuance in a number of your arguments. Here are some our responses.
In promoting health justice, our team at Systemic Disease believes it is vital to recognize the connection between bias and adverse health outcomes. We utilized a discussion model provided by In-Training’s Beyond Illness Roundtable toolkit to guide a discussion on such interactions that exist across all interprofessional relationships and those that may cloud, strain and negatively impact individuals from teaching, learning and, above all, healing.
Everyone says that medical school gets better, especially during third year. The traditional four-year curriculum covers the basic sciences in the classroom for the first two years. Then suddenly, third year plunges us into clinical rotations in the hospital, where we’ve all dreamed of working for so long.
Advice on how to eat is perhaps the most ubiquitous type of medicine we are exposed to throughout our day-to-day. Just look at Dr. Oz or recall the waxing and waning popularity of fad diets. While I struggle to define any sources as legitimate nutrition education, it stands to reason that doctors receive training about carbs, calories and fats, right?
Every medical library should have a table of recommended books. After a day of study, I often linger by the one at my school, wishing that I had more time for a good read. I recently picked up a recommendation and didn’t let go.
This summer, Illinois passed a law set to take effect in the beginning of this year that stipulated that any doctors who cite conscience-based objection to abortion must have a system in place to give information about or provide referrals to providers who will perform abortions.
On October 6, 2016, the National Institute of Health (NIH) confirmed that a new health disparity population has been designated for research purposes. Eliseo J. Perez-Stable, MD, the director of the National Institute on Minority Health and Health Disparities, released a message stating that sexual and gender minorities (SGM) will be classified as a minority population, which suggests health disparities exist within this population.
Jamming to Vampire Weekend’s “Diplomat’s Son,” I walked passed two women on 95th Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenue. Each woman had an unlit cigarette in her mouth, and one woman was pushing a stroller. Thinking that the stroller could be empty, holding groceries, or carrying a small dog (as is the trend in parts of New York City), I turned around and was surprised to see a child, no more than a few weeks old, quietly sitting in the stroller.