Contributing Writer
Albany Medical College
Born and raised in the suburbs of Washington, DC, Ethan attended Middlebury College and graduated with a BA in Biochemistry in 2013. After graduation, Ethan worked at Boston Children's Hospital at the New Balance Foundation Obesity Prevention Center as a research assistant. Through his experiences at Middlebury College and Boston Children's Hospital, Ethan has become an advocate for increased nutritional education for patients and providers. He believes good nutrition is the best preventative medicine.
A few weeks ago, Coca-Cola disclosed that they have donated almost $120 million in grants to medical, health, and community organizations since 2010. As medical students, we can all understand how scientists who receive grant funding from a corporation such as Coke are at increased risk for inserting biases, conscious or otherwise, into their scientific research.
“Tell me about an experience that moved you in some way.” “Before I entered physician assistant school, I worked for about a year as a volunteer emergency medical technician in New Orleans with the New Orleans Emergency Medical Services. I wanted to work in something I knew would challenge me and determine if medicine and me really were a good fit. That experience definitely did the trick! There were so many patients who impacted me, but one in particular created a very poignant memory.
Over the past few months, a recurring topic in news conversation has been the plight of refugees from Syria. Recently, European nations such as Germany have contemplated whether to extend asylum to many of the estimated 6.5 million individuals displaced within Syria, and the 3.5 million who have fled to neighboring nations. The Syrian Civil War began in 2011, and with growing instability in the region due to the growth of groups such as ISIS, much of the previous infrastructure has eroded, including the country’s health care and public health systems. There are a number of concerns for the health of refugees trapped in Syria, and for those who have found asylum in countries across the globe.
“I didn’t know how good I was at science before I got to public school. When I was younger, I would always have free time to myself. I’d just roam around. Just like put stuff together, take things apart, just to see how things work. So, I always gravitated towards science. And just being around the hospital — I had no desire to fulfill it and be like ‘that’s what I’m gonna do.’
As a newly-minted third-year medical student, I’m now reaching the point where I finally have to decide what I want to be “when I grow up.” (I use that term very loosely since I’m in my late 20s, have spent 23 years of my life in school, and already have one doctorate degree). Which areas of medicine should I pursue? Do I want my future practice to be clinically-oriented, research-oriented, academically-oriented or all of the above?
Hey Jimmy,
It’s me. You. Us, I guess. Don’t ask me to explain how time-traveling communication works. I assume it’s like the movie Interstellar (which you don’t know about because it hasn’t been released yet) or The Lake House. Anyhow, in roughly four years from now I, you, us, we will graduate from medical school and I thought it would be a good idea at this point, to write back to you just as you’re starting at Schulich Med in the fall of 2011. What I bring to you is a one-time offering of advice and insight. And no, I won’t give you stock tips: it doesn’t work that way.
It is no great mystery that burnout is prevalent in the field of medicine, and it almost seems as if studies and articles highlighting this sad and disturbing truth are published daily. The reality is that doctors and doctors-in-training often struggle with their profession of choice, citing disillusionment, depression, long hours, exhaustion and lack of empathy as either symptoms or causes of feeling burnt out.
As medical students across the country enter their fourth year, many will travel thousands of miles to acquire global health experiences from the far reaches of the globe. While much can be learned by exposure to the stark differences among health systems in other countries, there is no doubt that such health disparities also affect the lives of vulnerable populations in our own communities. As a fourth-year medical student, I spent four weeks conducting a community health needs assessment of Burmese refugees in my hometown of Waterloo, Iowa, where I began to learn the meaning of global health at home.
On the first day of my surgery clerkship, our chief resident gave us a few instructions for our next two months together. We had to carry certain types of gauze and tape in our soon-to-be overflowing white coat pockets, create a clear and confident daily plan for each patient we followed, and be ready for rounds at 6 a.m. the next morning.
Just last month, the Supreme Court issued a ruling declaring bans on same-sex marriage illegal. While many hail this as a major step in the quest for equality, equity in health outcomes is still lacking in the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender community. Many clinicians and prospective clinicians do not receive significant training in how to address the unique needs of members of the LGBT population.
Inpatient neurology at UAB is a busy service, accepting a variety of calls every day from the ED, inpatient consults, and transfer patients throughout the state. On a particularly hectic Wednesday afternoon during my second week of rotation, our team received a page from the psychiatric ward that one of their patients, Mr. S, was being transferred to our floor after a possible seizure. The residents were busy checking out patients to the night team, so I was sent to see the patient first.
“Medicine is a team sport,” said one of many administrators who spoke to my class during medical school orientation. This utterance rang true to me, as I have always believed that medicine relies on people working together in a cooperative and respectful manner. Yet, what I never imagined is just how challenging it is to work in a group when you are the most passive person in a room. I came into medical school shy and feeling a little out of place.
Writer-in-Training, Columnist and in-Training Staff Member
Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine
Aishwarya is a second year medical student at the Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine. She relishes any opportunity to talk policy, social determinants of health, mental health parity and inclusion topics. Outside of school, Aishwarya enjoys yoga, green tea with lemon and copious amounts of dark chocolate.
Doctor of Policy
Doctor of Policy is a column dedicated to exploring and challenging contemporary health policy issues, especially in the fields of behavioral health, health care access, and inclusion, all from the eyes of a public health girl in a basic sciences world
