Fifty Shades of Grey (Matter!)
A web comic aiming to shine a creative and Rather Humerus spotlight on med school.
A web comic aiming to shine a creative and Rather Humerus spotlight on med school.
What I have learned along the way is that many people find policy boring. Maybe they associate it with clips of C-SPAN they watched in middle school civics class, or perhaps it evokes the frustration felt when yet another health policy dies a silent death on a Congressional floor, but whatever the reason, policy is ascribed as a responsibility solely for politicians. This presents a massive conundrum because our interests as future clinicians cannot be represented if we are not the ones speaking to policymakers.
I’ve realized recently that there are a few things about which medical school teaches you nothing. There’s the fabled four-year curriculum that all neophytes believe will make them into educated, caring, considerate and capable physicians. And then there’s the reality that most of what it is to really be a physician is learned in the “unwritten curriculum,” (…)
The first two years of medical school, for most students, consist mainly of studying from books, lectures, notes and papers. If a student is having trouble understanding the transporters in the kidney, they can read their notes or review the lecture. Later on in medical school, students spend more time on clinical clerkships. If on a rotation a student is told they need to work on their physical exam skills, they can go to the library and check out a book on physical diagnosis. When a lab result comes back on a patient that may be confusing, a student can quickly look it up on the internet.
She asked me if I was from New York. I told her I wasn’t. I was from California, actually, but enjoying myself in New York City while I was here. I asked her where she grew up. She said Brooklyn. She asked to see my referral card. I asked her to clarify. She said she wanted to see my referral card. For coming here. And did the super know I was here? Where was my card?
The gray pickup truck rattled along the rocky path, careening back and forth on a steep incline that reached for the snow-capped peak masked by clouds. While tires slid and kicked up trails of dust that diffused into the mist surrounding us, I was still able to catch a glimpse of Chimborazo, a volcanic pyramid of Ecuador, through pockets of clarity in that atmosphere. Soaring at breathtaking elevations of over 20 thousand feet, Chimborazo is a point near the equator where one can be closest to the sun while standing on Earth.
Most medical students are well aware of the benefits of exercise, but lack the motivation (and time) to do so. My suggestion? Do it with a friend! Here are six reasons why getting a workout buddy can help you achieve your workout goals, while enjoying the experience.
One of the most oft repeated complaints I heard from patients during my internal medicine rotation was, “I can’t sleep.” From early morning rounds to beeping lights to the health conditions that brought them to the hospital in the first place, it’s no wonder that a good night’s rest is hard to come by in the hospital.
Looking in the mirror, a different person peers out at me — a stranger even. This stranger has bags under his eyes and a permanently exhausted look. This man seems a little haggard, unshaven and scruffy. Gray hairs scatter themselves around a 25-year-old head, but what most makes him look different are his eyes.
In his fictional novel “When Crickets Cry,” Charles Martin, who is not a medical doctor, takes on a difficult task: to write convincingly in first person as a medical doctor. This is an understandably difficult task, but the author is thorough in his discussion of the medical aspects of the story. He also convincingly creates a multi-dimensional character who is much more than a doctor, and it is the author’s proficiency at characterization that makes the novel a fascinating and compelling read.
It was not at a specific moment in time nor the result of an inciting event, but soon after medical school began, I started to forget who I was. I don’t mean early-onset Alzheimer’s or a drug-induced psychosis type of forgetting; I mean lost all sight of what made me me type of forgetting.
For medical students, long hours hitting the books, demanding schedules and competitive careers can all make it hard to turn off at night. As a result, we tend to experience sleepless nights; and for some, these nights turn into weeks, months or even years.