Contributing Writer
Aga Khan University Hospital, Karachi
Ayesha is a graduate of Karachi Medical and Dental College, Karachi, Pakistan from the batch of 2015. She is now working as a full time faculty at Aga Khan University Hospital, Karachi as a Family Physician; also the institute where she did her residency training in 2022. She enjoys writing, painting and poetry. She has an interest in reflective writing and medical education.
“Two roads diverged in a wood and I- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.” ‘The Road not Taken’ by Robert Frost. ‘The Road not Taken’ is a poem by Robert Frost, where he talks about the impact of making different choices. The poem has stuck with me as I believe it resonates with my choice to specialize in family medicine – unknown to more than half of …
When I was a child, I lost my grandpa to cancer. I used to promise him that I would become a health care provider and heal him, but unfortunately he passed away when I was in twelfth grade. Later, I joined medical school at the University of Rwanda, where I became involved in student-led research, health promotion practices and knowledge measurement.
The purpose of this piece is not to assign blame, nor is it to debate the inciting event for the current state of the people in Gaza. Instead, I hope to inspire you, the reader, to set aside any political differences and to lean into your role as both a human and patient advocate. I urge you to speak up in support of our colleagues overseas, who are treating and operating under the threat of death; for history will not judge our silence kindly.
In September 2020, I started to volunteer as a health educator in sexual and reproductive health and rights with mobile clinics of the Palestinian Medical Relief Society, reaching marginalized communities in the Occupied Palestinian Territories (OPT). I worked in the villages of two cities in the West Bank — Jenin and Qalqilya.
Unsheathe a hollow spear and spill from ephemeral streams of blue. / Hold it against me only for a moment to let my skin seize against the cold steel.
The Iranian Consultative Assembly, the equivalent of a parliament, legalized living non-related donations in 1988 and set up a new government-run transplant matching system. Within this novel framework, living donors could choose to have their organs typed and registered in advance. If they are needed, a third-party independent organization, the Dialysis and Transplant Patients Association (DTPA), would set up contact between the donors and recipients. The donors would be compensated by a payment from the government, free health insurance, and sometimes additional payment from the recipient. The payment from the government is said to be in the range of $2,000-$4,000.
In this episode we interview Dr. Ijeoma Nnodim Opara. Dr. Opara received her medical degree from Wayne State University School of Medicine (WSUSOM) and completed a med-peds residency at the Detroit Medical Center where she served as chief medical resident. Currently, she is a double-board certified and an assistant professor of internal medicine and pediatrics.
Gather a group of American and Chinese first year medical students in one lecture hall, and you will notice some obvious differences right away. The Americans will likely be older with more work experience under their belt already. There will be more women on the Chinese side, and most have been full-time students all their lives. Dig beyond appearances and ask them what their daily curriculum consists of, and you will find even more interesting differences.
I am worried that these stories of heroism are harming the very people they celebrate. By creating an ideal “health care worker” as an endlessly altruistic individual, it stigmatizes the medical workers who refuse to take on these risks — even though there are many legitimate reasons not to.
In Nicaragua, where I was born and raised, we routinely stayed at home for dengue outbreaks, violence and hurricanes. I had experienced at least three lockdowns as a child, and now as an adult, I was experiencing another. Although the Nicaraguan lockdowns I experienced happened in the 1990s, the COVID-19 lockdown was still familiar.
A mourning sun cries as she tucks away / the night to uncover red and blues / lumps of fabric and skin on gritty sand below.
I am calling for international solidarity and aid for Yemenis who are currently living in the worst conditions imaginable without clean water, food or shelter. Today in Yemen, there is war, an economic crisis, cholera outbreaks, the Chikungunya virus and COVID-19, all in the same country.
Contributing Writer
Saint James School of Medicine
Leah Sarah Peer is a second-year medical student at Saint James School of Medicine. In 2018, she graduated from Concordia University in Montreal, Quebec with a Bachelor of Science in biology and a minor in human rights. She is passionate about the intersection of health and human rights, and as an advocate for social justice and global health, she actively participates in community initiatives in her free time. After graduating medical school, Leah Sarah would like to pursue a career in emergency or humanitarian medicine.
