Letter From Your 2022-2023 Editors-in-Chief
Dear in-Training family: it is our pleasure to welcome you back as we start the 2022 academic year!
Dear in-Training family: it is our pleasure to welcome you back as we start the 2022 academic year!
Three knocks, no answer. “Good morning Mr. Adams!” I call as I peek into his room, flicking the lights on. I am wheeling a small, flailing tablet and it unstably spins left and right, back and forth, until I park it by my patient’s bed.
Mr. Adams had heart; I will give him that. Presenting for ankle pain, altered mental status and shortness of breath, it quickly became apparent that a far more worrisome picture was being painted with each passing day.
Blue, white, red, yellow, pink, brown. These are the colors of the ties and strips of fabric around the scrub pants and tops indicating their size. At the start of medical school, I would squeeze into a red top and red pants: these were the larges.
My sister is nine years older than I am. We went to different high schools and currently live over 500 miles apart.
Uvalde / I hear the cries of children as they play at the school across the street / They are joyful and exuberant as they play in the Texas heat / unaware of the fear that will soon be unleashed
I came across a photo on social media of some classmates that appeared almost identical to another one I had seen months ago — beaming medical students crowded together against a brick wall of a campus apartment. Déjà vu. But there was one difference. Nearly all the students in this picture were white, whereas all the students in the older picture were non-white.
Big procedures can be tense, but today’s felt a little different. The atmosphere was relaxed. Then, unexpectedly, a few issues arose. Two of them, to be precise.
On May 2, POLITICO published the leaked SCOTUS majority opinion draft indicating the imminent intention of the court to overturn Roe v. Wade, Planned Parenthood v. Casey and 50 years of legal precedent that ensured access to necessary health care for anyone capable of becoming pregnant.
What is the recipe that makes an ideal medical student? Are each of us the summation of perfectly measured ingredients? Are we all weighed to the gram, set to proof until we rise just enough and gently set to bake?
To fully capture the breadth of medical humanities is simply not possible. In fact, it is all too easy for the medical community to lack an appreciation for all of the ways that the humanities not only complement, but enhance medicine. Medicine — a field so biological and chemical — is often associated with far more rigidity than where the humanities permits the mind to go.
In early spring, amid the earlier quarantines, I watched dandelions grow outside my window. At first, subtly and hidden among the blades of grass. Then budding, bursting yellow amid green galaxies. These tiny suns danced in April’s wind and their scent carried morning’s dew and earth-like warmth into midday, until the smells of grills and barbecues took stage.