Writer-in-Training
University of Illinois at Chicago College of Medicine
Currently an M2 at University of Illinois at Chicago College of Medicine. Interests include global health, health disparities, and emergency medicine. Also enjoys photography, classical music, travel, and medical history. Will work for dessert.
“This is a place where the dead are pleased to help the living.”
These words always greet me upon entering our anatomy lab. A similar saying in Latin is inscribed at the Palazzo del Bo at the University of Padua, home of the world’s oldest anatomical theater.
In class they ask me / What is love? / To prompt a philosophical discussion.
I do not want to do this to you / My heart wrenches / For the pain we inflict
I climbed into bed on October 11 excited: for the first time in years, I could pinpoint what I was feeling — I was happy. Pure, simple happiness, something that had eluded me for years in the throes of depression and anxiety as a teenager, was a feeling I could recognize again. Wow, I thought, maybe this will be my year.
The cultural competency framework that has become the mainstay of medical education is often times employed in incredibly reductionist ways. It seems to propose that exposing physicians to homogenized, static and packaged ideas of culture will aid them in estimating patient behavior, preference or response in the clinic, thereby diminishing health care inequality. Training like this paves the way for even well-intentioned student-doctors to be explicitly ignorant under the auspices of clinical benefit. It spoils the good intent to create better patient outcomes by legitimizing the validity of stereotypes and the development of physician bias.
These words, spoken by Dr. Gabrielle McMullin, a vascular surgeon in Australia, refer to a recent case wherein a female surgical resident won a case against a surgeon accused of sexually assaulting her in the Melbourne hospital where they both worked. Ironically, winning this workplace harassment lawsuit has made it impossible for the surgical resident, Caroline Tan, to find a job. In the surgical profession, speaking up against assault has resulted in Tan being labeled not as a victim or a brave woman who spoke up, but as a troublemaker.
“Good morning, Howard. I love you” / James whispered at seven o’ clock / Every morning / Like clockwork
One year ago, on December 10, 2014, over 3,000 medical students participated in the National White Coat Die-In. We knelt to the ground, rested our backs on concrete and tile, looked up at the ceiling and contemplated what it meant to be a citizen. We embraced a deafening silence pregnant with the implications of erasure. Our bodies, cloaked in the privilege of a white coat, painted a complicated image of advocacy and appropriation.
Stamina waning / Along with my patience / For the number of patients / Presenting with an emesis of symptoms
As I settle into my second year of medical school, I’m confronted with the fact that I’m one-fourth of the way to an M.D. — that an entire year has passed, and unsurprisingly, all those predictions my deans made at the very beginning came to pass: time flew, we learned more than we thought we ever could, and upon close self-examination, we’re very different from how we were this time last year.
I was sitting in class on Tuesday, October 6, when one of my friends showed me a link about a local college that was under lockdown, as we often do with current events. But this time, after seeing the message, I felt my stomach sink. My heart was in my throat. My mind instantly flooded with thoughts. Did my mom go to work this morning? Was she teaching today? I hadn’t heard from her since last night. The school was the Community College of Philadelphia (CCP).
Please say / ninety-nine, / No not like / that, say it
Medical Student Editor, Writer-in-Training and Columnist Emeritus
Boonshoft School of Medicine at Wright State University
Brent Schnipke is a third year medical student at Wright State University Boonshoft School of Medicine in Dayton, OH. He is a 2014 graduate of Mount Vernon Nazarene University with a degree in Biology. His professional interests include writing, medical humanities, and higher education. When he's not studying, he can be found reading at a local coffee shop, training for his next race, or planning an adventure with his wife. Brent is also active on social media and can be reached on Twitter and Instagram @brentschnipke.
Prints, Pages, and Pagers
Prints, Pages, and Pagers aims to look closely at the lives of medical students and doctors, real or fiction, whose lives and experiences are told in novels, short stories, poetry, or any kind of writing. These book reviews are an opportunity for medical students to learn from the many fascinating stories produced by the field of medicine, and maybe to read something other than a textbook.
