Medical Student Editor
University of Kansas School of Medicine - Wichita
I am a Class of 2016 medical student with an interest in a career in pediatrics. I was almost an English major in college, and I still love to write but don't get nearly enough time or opportunities to do so. In my future career, I hope to be involved in narrative medicine and pediatric advocacy but also want to have time for my family and friends. I also have a cat named Harry, and if you ever meet me in person, be prepared to look many pictures of him!
On March 4, 2015, JAMA Psychiatry published an article entitled “Depression and Suicide Among Physician Trainees: Recommendations for a National Response” calling for “[a] national commitment to support residents and fellows throughout the challenges of medical training.” However, we believe that the term “physician trainees” should also be inclusive of medical students.
I am a medical student, yes. I am also a survivor of sexual violence. With the recent Columbia University commencement, the surge of articles surrounding the narratives of Emma Sulkowickz and Paul Nungesser prompted me to reflect on this latter identity. When histories of sexual harassment at my school emerged last November, my survivor status edged its way into my path toward doctorhood. I know I will always carry the mark of my trauma with me, and I am learning how I will better empathize with patients because of it.
As medical students we’re told over and over to treat the whole patient, emphasizing unity of body, mind and spirit, recognizing the things that make us unique: upbringing, culture, values and beliefs. But on the way to achieving this holistic view of our patients, we often lose ourselves in the process. Barraged with metabolic pathways, pathological markers and exams, medical school tends to become a zero sum emotional game.
For most medical students, the third year of medical school is their introduction to life in the hospital. This results not only in exciting learning opportunities, but also emotional tolls — grief, fear, anxiety, exhaustion — that can lead to serious problems including burnout, depression, and anxiety.
There is another reason wellness is now stressed so heavily in medical schools, and it is one that is not often talked about — physician suicides. As many as 400 physicians commit suicide each year. That is equivalent to four medical school classes who take their lives every single year.
One of the things that I have struggled with most in medical school is depression. Not learning to recognize, diagnose or treat it, but actually dealing with the effects of this condition. I soon realized that this problem is much bigger than myself, and needs to be talked about openly. This is my story.
Have you ever spent a night curled up in a ball of blankets rocking yourself, tears streaming down your cheeks, just wishing you could go to sleep and wake up a couple of months later? As a teenager, I had more of these nights than I did nights of restful sleep. There was no particular trigger. I had an idyllic childhood, growing up in a quiet suburb with a loving, supportive family.
It has been a little over two years since Kaitlyn Elkins, a second-year medical student at Wake Forest, took her own life. Her death stunned friends and family, who had been largely unaware of her protracted struggle with depression that was ultimately revealed in her suicide note. Kaitlyn’s mother, Rhonda Elkins, dedicated herself relentlessly to advocating for mental health awareness before succumbing to her own grief, committing suicide one year later.
Yet when nine black individuals were horrifically slaughtered in an historic black church in South Carolina by a white male (Dylann Storm Roof) who said, “You rape our women and you’re taking over our country — and you have to go,” all of a sudden psychiatry and mental illness become the legitimate explanation. Of course, Roof later confessed that he hoped his actions would start a “race war” and he was seen in pictures wearing a jacket with flags of apartheid South Africa, as well has sporting a license plate with the Confederate flag.
Sian Tsuei, a recent fourth-year matcher out of the University of British Columbia Faculty of Medicine in Canada, gives us his expert advice on succeeding in medical school and beyond.
The sarcophagus before me dominates the exhibition. Intricately carved animals, including a line of fierce lions, arise from the slab of marble. Peering more attentively, I even notice the Greek goddess of wisdom, Athena, wielding her characteristic shield and helmet. A horse pulls a chariot, and perhaps that is Hector there on the ground, the Prince of Troy now fallen.
Your neck muscles heaved as you sucked in air through pursed lips. Pink puffer, I thought immediately, to my shame. That wasn’t why I was here.
Columnist and in-Training Staff Member
Morsani College of Medicine at the University of South Florida
Ajay is a pediatric resident and a Class of 2017 graduate of the SELECT MD program at the University of South Florida. He is passionate about delivering primary care to underserved populations—specifically, low-income and homeless patients in urban centers. Ajay will be specializing in pediatrics, with a particular interest in child maltreatment.
M.D. or Bust
Numerous studies have documented that medical students lose empathy during clinical years, becoming jaded and pessimistic. This has been linked not only to diminished enjoyment of our work, but also to worse patient outcomes. My goal is to sustain the humanistic values that drive so many of us to medicine, so that, instead of being quelled by cynicism, our idealism can be refined by wisdom.
