Contributing Writer
Florida International University Herbert Wertheim College of Medicine
Marthena is a medical student and member of the class of 2026 at Florida International University Herbert Wertheim College of Medicine in Miami, FL. In 2020, she graduated from Florida International University with a Bachelor of Science in biological sciences and minors in chemistry and English. She enjoys writing, swimming, playing guitar and ukulele, singing, rollerblading, biking, and exploring Miami (especially the restaurants!) in her free time. After graduating from medical school, Marthena would like to pursue a career in pediatric neurology.
Within the first week, the excitement I felt at my white coat ceremony quickly faded as I became overwhelmed and fell behind. Even with seemingly endless hours of studying, I was still doing poorly. I was exhausted every day and neglecting my well-being. For the first time in my life, my hard work was not paying off.
…what remains is the removal of the layered white shroud: the only barrier standing between two humans — one dead and the other alive.
As a person still learning to manage grief, I have to remind myself that perfection doesn’t exist in our loved ones either. We are all imperfect beings, but the best we can do is try, believe in ourselves and tell some stupid jokes along the way.
Alone in her chart stands a telehealth appointment from seven weeks ago. June disclosed a positive at-home pregnancy test. She asked about establishing care and family planning options. Just as I notice her three prior cancellations, her name flashes: Arrived.
You were worried the year would be difficult, you didn’t know how to live months on end without seeing or hugging family and didn’t know how you would meet and talk to 230 people in your class (and no, you still haven’t, but at least you might know 70%).
I could feel my right lower leg starting to bend. And bend. And bend for an eternity before I finally hit the turf. Then, my only view through the bars of my helmet were the Friday night lights against the Friday night sky.
As a 17-year-old fresh out of emergency medical technician (EMT) training, I was eager to complete my first ambulance call. The thought of rushing to someone’s rescue excited me. In fact, providing immediate, lifesaving care is what drew me to become an EMT in the first place.
In my second year of medical school, amidst the frequent exams and impending doom of third year rotations, I would often look forward to Tuesday nights. On these nights, students and residents would come together to play pick-up basketball at a local gym, removed from the stresses of medical school.
My decision to return to school to pursue a doctorate degree in medicine came as a shock to many.
I was not happy when I was accepted to medical school, not like I thought I would be. In the hours and days that followed that fateful email, feelings of shock, sadness and nervousness jostled for dominance in my mind as I processed the information.
The instant I activated my phone, it rang. I steadied my microphone and saw 34 callers in the queue. “COVID-19 hotline,” I answered.
As I took my shirt off this morning to shower, I noticed my teres major muscle in the mirror — or more precisely, I identified it for the first time.
Contributing Writer
Vanderbilt University School of Medicine
Alec is a fourth year medical student at Vanderbilt University School of Medicine in Nashville, TN class of 2023. In 2017, he graduated from Stanford University with a Bachelor of Science in symbolic systems and Master of Science in comparative medicine. He enjoys scuba diving, training in Taekwondo, reading/writing poetry, and exploring the outdoors in his free time. After graduating medical school, Alec would like to pursue a career in Neuroradiology.
