A physician’s two favorite words: diet and exercise. Patients are constantly told that lifestyle interventions are the most important modifiable risk factors to prevent chronic illnesses like diabetes and hypertension.
In light of obesity’s concerning prevalence and economic burden, it becomes imperative that we equip future healthcare providers with the knowledge and skills essential for effective obesity management. However, despite the numerous consequences of obesity on both individuals and society, medical students are often found to be inadequately prepared to discuss weight management with patients.
The gentle breeze of the summer evening embraces my hometown of Suwon, Korea. Holding my hand, my grandma takes small, deliberate steps forward. Two months into my fourth year of medical school, I am back home for a short break before beginning the residency application process.
During my three weeks working in the pediatric dialysis unit and the post-kidney transplant unit, I noticed a troublesome trend. The whiter and younger pediatric patients were resting comfortably in the post-transplant unit with their new surgically placed kidney being meticulously taken care of. The darker and older pediatric patients spent countless, mindless hours attached to a dialysis machine with little hope for a new kidney after years of being on the waitlist.
In disease and in health, our bodies tell stories. But more often than not, these stories are left unheard and unseen. A meaningful method for illuminating untold stories is through traditional/classical dance forms. Dance especially is a space for knowledge and roles to be authentically represented. For marginalized communities in particular, traditional dance has for centuries been a medium for creative expression and healing despite how circumstances and society have complicated their access to care.
In a time when we began medical school online during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, most of our preclinical medical education was lecture-based. This meant my experiences at the free health clinics affiliated with our institution were more valuable than ever in introducing me to patient care.
In the modern era, image is everything. Our evaluations from both preceptors and peers can drastically change our life trajectory and this is far more true in the realm of medicine.
As a Muslim living in a city with a hot and humid climate, I can attest that when it’s time to break my fast, water is the only thing on my mind. Drinking water seems to immediately quench my thirst. But does this mean that the water is absorbed from my stomach into the bloodstream at the exact moment of consumption?
As a medical student, finding a research mentor can be a challenging task. However, with careful planning and communication, building a productive and mutually beneficial mentor-mentee relationship is possible.
The recent article “Language Matters: Reflecting on Bias in an Anatomy Textbook” looks at the premise that “the sanctity of medical ‘truth’ and ‘evidence’ should preclude any bias.” We agree with this sentiment and acknowledge that historically there has been a lack of diversity and sexual equitability in the presentation of anatomy in textbooks and atlases. In this article the textbook referenced by the writer was printed in early 2014. While we acknowledge that there have been deficiencies in our textbooks in the past, a lot of content has been updated in newer editions.
In September 2020, I started to volunteer as a health educator in sexual and reproductive health and rights with mobile clinics of the Palestinian Medical Relief Society, reaching marginalized communities in the Occupied Palestinian Territories (OPT). I worked in the villages of two cities in the West Bank — Jenin and Qalqilya.
Unlike other specialties, radiology is often an elective rotation that focuses on diagnostics and image interpretation. Such tasks are mainly done by the specialty’s residents with little care for medical students to be involved with.