Contributing Writer Emeritus
Creighton University School of Medicine
Matt is a Class of 2016 medical student at the Creighton University School of Medicine in Omaha, Nebraska.
My initial interest in medicine came from an unlikely source, a stranger I will presumably never meet again. I was volunteering with one of the nurses at a local Healthcare for the Homeless clinic during my first year of college. From my seat in the corner, I noticed with some apprehension a young man whose body was covered with tattoos. Two tattoos in particular caught my attention. The first was on his neck: a five-point crown …
When I began to think about becoming a doctor — sixty years ago while in high school — I thought of medicine in terms of being a healer. I imagine each of you have had similar thoughts before and now during medical school. But what does it mean to be a healer and how does one go about becoming one?
It was a sunny and cloudless September day, the weather still warm enough for T-shirts and shorts. Sitting by a round table decorated with poster board and flyers, I was providing mental health awareness and education at a health fair. The site was sandwiched between the bustling highways south of downtown Chicago and the Chicago River — the outskirts of Chinatown. All around me crowded small storefronts and narrow roads, a sharp contrast to the …
The medical students, residents and Dr. G stood around the computer with backs hunched. With serious and emotionless faces, we stared directly into the screen. We were taken aback by the MRI results of his brain in front of us. Was this a primary tumor? An AVM? A dreaded metastasis from somewhere else in his body? How long has this mass been in his brain? Look at the size. Look at the calcifications. What did …
As students of medicine, we become familiar with the proper course of questioning that leads us to identify a patient’s problem. We take for granted a traditional paradigm of questioning, asking: “What brings you into clinic today?” and “Where does it hurt?” What we do not realize is that this conditioning is the result of a great epistemological leap taken after the French Revolution, which shaped the face of modern-day medicine.
“This can be a depressing specialty at times; we laugh to stay sane,” my attending explained as I stared in dismay at the cackling residents and faculty after one of them made a rude comment about their patient. This was the first day of my rotation on this service and I was very disappointed. Still brimming with the ideals of professionalism taught in the first two years of medical school, the scenario I witnessed seemed …
I met a resident who advocated that all medical students should become patients and have the same procedures that they order for their patients performed on them à la the movie “The Doctor.” While I agree that being a patient offers perspective, I don’t agree that I need to have tertiary syphilis to understand how to interact with a patient facing the illness. We act as health care providers and now view the world in …
Snow and frost sculpted mazes in the streets; I struggled through the wind, fluid freezing in my joints, unpaved sidewalk sliding below my shoes. I was skating on a pond in Transylvania; the desolate snowscape wrapped around the hill crowned with the dark building, speckled but starkly rising. Maybe there were vampires in there, but my hands tingled with warmth as I opened the metal handles. The guard glanced but said nothing. I felt immediately …
We who were always overachievers. Who missed the dusk of our adolescence solving multiple-choice questions. We who began our adult lives spending alternate days with corpses. Who carry bones in our bags and books that break our backs. Who spend the best years of youth in the grime of wards. Who have already witnessed a lifetime’s share of deaths. Who learn about depression but fail to recognise it in ourselves. We who have no definite …
Hippocrates, the famous Greek physician and father of Western medicine, once said, “To hold him who has taught me this art as equal to my parents and to live my life in partnership with him, and if he is in need of money to give him a share of mine, and to regard his offspring as equal to my brothers in male lineage and to teach them this art—if they desire to learn it—without fee and …
The patient was a woman in her mid-twenties recently diagnosed with lupus. She was clearly anxious about her prognosis and treatment. The rheumatologist I was shadowing that day entered the room, made some casual conversation intermingled with medical questions, and proceeded with the physical exam. She was attentive to the patient’s needs and accommodating with her questions. The rheumatologist’s confidence, compassion and ability to sooth the patient’s worries made a lasting impression on me. During …
Though I am currently a second year student at University of Vermont, I actually started medical school back in the ’80s in an ancient and venerable school in England, granted the royal seal by Henry VIII. Even just twenty-five or so years ago, the nurses still wore uniforms not significantly different from that worn by Florence Nightingale herself, and they kept their heads bowed and eyes demurely averted on ward rounds. I remember that there …
Contributing Writer Emeritus
University of Vermont College of Medicine
Peter Wingfield is in the Class of 2015 at the University of Vermont College of Medicine after more than two decades as an actor in the UK, Europe and North America.
