Columnist
University of Miami Miller School of Medicine
Meghan is a second year medical student in the MD-MPH program at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine in Miami, Florida class of 2023. In December of 2018, she graduated from Washington University in St. Louis with a Bachelor of Arts in political science and a minor in biological anthropology. She has written for The Denver Post (Denver, Colorado), has been a writer and editor for Washington University Student Life (St. Louis, Missouri), and has been published on KevinMD.com. She enjoys skiing, snowboarding, baking, dancing, and playing piano in her free time. In the future, Meghan would like to incorporate medical journalism into her career as a physician.
Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Healthiness
As doctors-in-training, we are not often exposed to the fundamental legal tenants of healthcare and medicine. But law and policy play a significant role in how we will practice -- including but not limited to the role of legal documents such as the Constitution on health policy, the impact of Supreme Court cases on healthcare legislation, and the role of international organizations and governmental decisions in global health. By discussing topics in medical law, public health policy, and the government's role in healthcare, we can better understand the intersection between the duties of physicians on the clinical level and the involvement of medicine on a national level.
Shortness of breath is a frustrating experience. The feeling of not being able to get air into the deepest parts of your lungs can be scary. Unfortunately, as COVID-19 spreads across the globe, more and more people are experiencing shortness of breath — one of the symptoms of the virus.
It has been two months since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic. People are itching to return to “normal,” to break out of their so-called home confinement; however, what is it like to be a person in an actual prison, right now, stuck in a crowded confinement that extends before and after this pandemic?
As medical students, we marvel at the endless combinations of letters often embroidered on white coats representing physicians’ degrees and association affiliations: MD, MBBS, DO, PhD, MSc, MBA, MPH, MPP, MS, MTR, JD, MSHP and so on. This “alphabet soup” represents the important diversity that exists in our profession.
In order to flatten the COVID-19 curve, many people have been practicing social distancing and staying at home to avoid possible exposure to carriers and infected individuals. While these measures are necessary to slow the spread of the virus and keep the number of cases at a manageable level, they have several implications for mental health.
But we should not need to view videos of Black individuals suffering or in pain in order to mobilize. Others, unrecorded and alone, die by the hands of our state. It is time for Americans to turn their gaze away from violent images of Black death and inwards to consider the invisible and not-so-invisible ways we uphold white supremacy every single day.
The world is quarantined, but we have learned to be human again. Rather than tirelessly working or studying, we are forced to engage with one another in meaningful ways. We find novel alternatives to maintain relationships with those who mean the most to us during this daunting time with no foreseeable end.
The histories of Fox Point and Brooklyn reveal how where we call home is deeply intertwined with identity, power and privilege. They tell the story of structural racism — a patterned, “normative, sometimes legalized” process by which communities of color are marginalized. The sequelae of structural racism have dire health implications at the neighborhood-level.
This year, like those before us, we entered our study periods for Step 1 with some trepidation — both about the long hours of studying and the high stakes of the exam. Like those before us, we reassured ourselves that if we put our time in now, we’d be able to move beyond memorizing minutiae to caring for patients in the hospital. And then, unlike those before us, testing centers across the world closed.
Today, my grandparents are older than Saul was when distanced from his family. Now during the coronavirus pandemic, they too are isolated. This time it’s not because they are the fomites, but because I might be. Those big enveloping hugs that grandma lives for and kisses from grandpa will likely become a thing of the past.
The nightmare of the COVID-19 pandemic offers a view of what climate change will impose on our future health system and communities if uncontrolled. As future doctors, on the 50th Anniversary of Earth Day we raise our voices in unison to draw attention to the urgency of the climate crisis.
At this very moment, our medical care providers are acting as the heroes we know them to be. They should be celebrated for their steadfast courage and dedication to the community’s safety and wellbeing. Our job as medical students is to support those brave practitioners in the way that most protects their safety and the safety of their patients, which very well could mean (and probably does mean) staying home.
Throughout my training, I’ve observed the shortcomings and strengths of the health care system from the perspective of the next generation of physicians. Lack of emphasis on preventative care put Americans at risk even before COVID-19 hit our shores.
Contributing Writer
Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth
Cassie is a student at the Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth. She graduated in 2012 from Bryn Mawr College with a BA in English and a minor in psychology and completed the Bryn Mawr College Post-Baccalaureate Program for career changers in 2015. She has been on the editorial team at the Annals of Thoracic Surgery and regularly contributes to US News and Student Doctor Network.
