Contributing Writer Emeritus
University of Texas Medical Branch
Ha Nguyen is a Class of 2015 medical student at University of Texas Medical Branch Galveston. A Plan II Liberal Arts Honors graduate of University of Texas Austin, she is currently a participant in UTMB's Humanities Track and has an interest in pediatrics.
“Are you really prepared to see this?” the doctor asked staring intensely at me, his arm blocking my way to the patient’s room. “Yes,” I replied hesitantly. “You prepped me on the patient already.” “Kid, I didn’t ask if you were prepped. I asked if you were prepared.” I knew that a scheduled delivery for a miscarriage would be a traumatic experience. I knew that it required the utmost sensitivity and compassion. Dr. A had …
Sunday, 8 p.m. What started as valiant efforts of creating new recipes turned out to be embarrassing failures in judgment and common sense. Initially, I thought mixing tofu, some greens and pasta would turn out to be an Asian delicacy, maybe something that I could proudly share with friends and family. But, after adding one spice to another, topping sauce over sauce, I realized that it was over. It was time to call it an …
As medical students and soon-to-be future physicians, we are taught to be hopeful when it comes to our patients. We smile; we comfort. We tell patients to put their trust in us because we believe we can cure them. We not only heal with our hands, but also with our words—reassuring when there is doubt, bearing a beacon of light when there is darkness. But what happens when that hope fails to illuminate, and our …
In the key of crunching cartilage, embedded in a melody of broken hips, wrapped in a base line of nuts and bolts, metal syncopated to eruptions of pain up steep and narrow stairs, grey and receding memories line the corridor of this old house. it and I, we still remember the creaking of painful harmonies, storms approaching and penetrating these walls from the inside out, we breathe an asthmatic crescendo in time with the wind …
I watched the hospital room in its trickling display of lights—infusions, a ventilator and a monitor with its unrelenting beeping noises. This is what I had come to know of the intensive care unit. As doctors, we are told that we must live and work detached from our patients because emotions can cloud our judgement. But it is difficult to separate emotions when a patient who lies in a bed could be someone’s mother, someone’s wife or …
The nurse cracked open the door to say, “You have a visitor here to see you.” Abraham’s mother nodded, and the nurse turned to me in the hallway with words of permission to enter. I did so, hesitantly. The room was dimly lit by sunlight fighting its way through soggy clouds to shine on the window. The walls were covered with action heroes sprinting to save lives, while foil balloons hovering over the bed gave …
It is powerful timing that I write the first entry for this column—a tribute to my mother—on Sept. 1, 2013. Today, my Ammachi (my maternal grandmother) passed away. Seeing those words is still a fresh wound, forcing me to externalize a reality that my heart and my mind have yet to come to terms with. This is the woman who helped to raise my two siblings and me; who raised my mother and her two siblings as …
It was my second day rotating through the palliative care service at an Atlanta hospital. The first day, I rounded on the floor with the nurse practitioner. The patients were all ill, but none were in the last stages of death like I had expected. On this day, I worked with the physician on the inpatient hospice unit of the hospital. These patients were taking their final breaths; their care was about providing comfort and …
For 24 years I lived in Cambridge, Mass. with or near my parents. I was in high school when my maternal grandfather died, and I remember when my mom and brother met me at a dress rehearsal one evening to share the bad news. I was a few blocks away, living at Harvard summer school, when my dad was briefly hospitalized with an ulcer. I lived just one zip code over when my brother was …
Last year, my grandmother, who was 83 and dying of everything, was my model patient for each theme. In the order of molecular biology, musculoskeletal, nervous system, cardiovascular, respiratory and renal, endocrine systems and microbiology, she had or had had a melanoma, osteoporosis, hypertension, atrial fibrillation and blood clots, emphysema, renal failure requiring dialysis, hypothyroidism and C. diff. She actually did not acquire the hyperthyroidism until the month we began the theme. It was not, …
Upon entering medical school, we all knew that we would have to deal with some difficult diagnoses, emotional situations and even death. In fact, even the earliest portions of our training were centered around a cold, lifeless cadaver that we cut into to learn the intricate anatomy and beauty of the human body. To a first-year medical student, gross anatomy symbolizes the profound meaning of what it is to embark on the long journey of …
It was just a week into our third-year rotations and my class was eagerly awaiting our Step 1 scores while adjusting to the beginnings of our clinical responsibilities. When the day came that our scores were to be released, I received a phone call from my aunt who told me that my Pappou (grandfather), who was in Greece on his yearly summer trip, had collapsed on his veranda and was en route to a local …
Contributing Writer Emeritus
New York Medical College
Born and raised in Massachusetts, Chris grew up loving sports and having a passion for knowledge. He recently graduated from Boston University with a BS in human physiology and is now a member of the Class of 2014 at New York Medical College. In addition to spending most of his free time at the gym, Chris enjoys writing and reflecting upon his experiences as a young medical professional as well as offering his insight and knowledge regarding sports medicine, athletics, and the principles of training.
