Contributing Writer
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill School of Medicine
I stepped foot on the island, unaware of what the next 39 days will hold. I recounted the advice I sought out prior to this adventure. “Remember to not step on anyone’s toes.” “Don’t be a burden. Be proactive.” “Read the room.” I wandered about my new home, using a map to guide me to my assigned tribe. I stepped foot into camp; a windowless room filled with scattered computers, rolling chairs, and an overfilling …
“Walker! David Walker!” I called the name of the next patient as I stood in front of the obnoxiously loud automatic doors that separated the emergency department waiting room from the clinical area. As the doors scraped shut behind me, I realized I’d probably called his name too loudly. The waiting room was dead silent. Only empty chairs on a nauseatingly sticky floor looked back at me as I glanced around the room for Mr. …
The clinic room was quiet, the air laced with the familiar scent of hand sanitizer. Cold air crept out from the overhead vent and slipped through my scrubs, sharpening my focus but numbing my hands at the same time. I was a third-year medical student on my family medicine rotation. Sitting across from me was my first patient of the day, a woman in her forties, here for her routine annual checkup. I settled onto …
“That doesn’t happen often,” I quietly but excitedly say to myself while discussing our consult from the PICU. My attending hesitates, pondering the precarious balance between encouraging my medical curiosity and protecting me from the horrors of child abuse and mistreatment that still haunt her to this day. That day, I was a first-hand witness to the necessary but horrible clinical task of a brain death exam. This task is a rite of passage for …
This was my patient. I sat with her, held her hand, coaxed her to share pieces of her life story from underneath the covers.
Oh God, what time is it? I stumbled over to my bedside table in pitch-black darkness, thanks to my new blackout curtains, which continue to be the best financial decision I have ever made, and checked my phone that was blasting my alarm.
As patients moved in and out of the modest office for their appointments, their duffel bags and luggage in tow containing all their personal belongings, the day unfolded in typical fashion. Yet, within the confines of this psychiatry office catering exclusively to the local unhoused population, “normal” took on a unique meaning.
At the start of clinical rotations, we are urged by preceptors to immerse ourselves in the experience, advocate for our patients and strive to understand them better than the rest of the team. I could not, however, shake an underlying thought: Why would any patient divulge their most intimate details to someone so inexperienced? After all, I was just a medical student.
“Could you water my plants?” I asked my roommate when I was out of town. They say it takes a village to raise a child, make it through medical school, to do anything worth knowing. When I started medical school, I had a village: parents, friends, family, a partner and my plants.
A light knock at your hospital room door and my introduction: “I am a first year MD-PhD student. Thank you.”
During my family medicine clerkship in medical school, I worked with a free mobile primary care clinic dedicated to serving uninsured patients. Parked outside a church in a large city, the clinic was a large blue bus standing in stark contrast to the gray asphalt parking lot around it.
Going into my third year of medical school, my goals were simple: survive and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. My first clerkship was surgery, and what a chaotic start it was. I often felt like a burden on my team. I knew nothing and asked the exhausted, busy residents a lot of questions. I was a walking ball of anxiety those first four weeks: How many questions was too many? How many questions was not enough?
Contributing Writer
Long School of Medicine- UT Health San Antonio
Kayla Privitt is a 3rd year medical student at the Long School of Medicine in San Antonio, Texas, class of 2025. In 2021, she graduated from Texas A&M University with a Bachelor of Science in genetics. She enjoys writing, camping, and hanging out with her cat and husband. After graduating medical school, she would like to pursue general surgery.
