Contributing Writer
University of South Florida Morsani College of Medicine
Michelle Lyman is a third year medical student in the SELECT Program at the University of South Florida. Originally from Jacksonville Florida, Michelle currently lives in Allentown, Pennsylvania where she is completing her third year clerkships. She is interested in public health and patient advocacy.
Physicians across many specialties are treating trafficked persons in their practice. Yet they are not trained to recognize human trafficking or know how to intervene. Studies have shown that 88 percent of US-born sex trafficking victims reported receiving medical care while being trafficked.
With the increased awareness surrounding mental health that has come over the course of the 21st century, many more people are aware of PTSD. Our understanding of it has come a long way from the earliest accounts of “soldier’s heart” during the Civil War era, or even what was termed “shell shock” during World War 1. However, there are still some common misconceptions surrounding PTSD, which I hope to debunk here.
Following the event, we resolved to dedicate our efforts to raising awareness at Einstein about domestic sex trafficking. We knew our colleagues might be just as uninformed as we had been. Later that year, we developed research on how to best teach sex-trafficking issues to medical school students.
As a medical student, I always carry naloxone in my backpack. Naloxone is the antidote for opioid overdoses, and is readily available at most pharmacies in Boston. My medical school, Boston University School of Medicine, is located near the epicenter of the opioid epidemic in Massachusetts.
On October 6, 2016, the National Institute of Health (NIH) confirmed that a new health disparity population has been designated for research purposes. Eliseo J. Perez-Stable, MD, the director of the National Institute on Minority Health and Health Disparities, released a message stating that sexual and gender minorities (SGM) will be classified as a minority population, which suggests health disparities exist within this population.
When I was six, a set of strawberry hair ties foiled my endeavor for independence. My mother had a way of twisting the plastic ornaments at the end of her operation so they sat together like two friends on a bus, neat and obedient at the crown of my head. Despite my assertions, (“I can do it myself!”) I could never align their orbits.
When many people hear about human trafficking and health care, they usually think about sexual health: sexually transmitted diseases, pregnancy, and so forth. However, the health problems of trafficking survivors are much more vast and complex. It is also important to note that not all trafficking survivors are trafficked for sex.
Delirium is a bread-and-butter presentation. The differential writes itself — stroke, infection, intoxication, electrolyte imbalances, shock, organ failure. The intellectual exercise this invites was practically invented for medical students, even if the final diagnosis (dehydration secondary to gastroenteritis) and its treatment (fluids) were relatively mundane.
In the five years that have passed since I met the 14-year-old girl who opened my eyes to the terrible crime of sex trafficking in the United States, much has changed. We have made strides in state and federal legislation to protect survivors, national human trafficking prevention months have been declared, and victims are no longer treated as criminals.
I only realized that I was an optimist on November 9. Crushing disbelief is cliche, and yet — as I walked home, hot-cheeked, through rain and yolk-colored streetlights just after midnight, past a dive bar where neighbors tallied states and feverishly refreshed fivethirtyeight — I felt trampled.
On Thursday, many of you will gather round a dinner table with your loved ones and give gratitude for your friends, family and good fortune. Many of you will think of the meal associated with the inception of this holiday, be filled with warm fuzzy feelings and gloss over the real history surrounding the relationship between those who supposedly attended the first “Thanksgiving” dinner. After eating a second helping of Grandma’s famous pie, few will be concerned about the side of historical oppression or racist colonization offered with this dinner because well, that isn’t so palatable.
As a fourth-year medical student, I enjoy introducing myself to patients as the “extra eyes and ears of the team, so feel free to tell me anything you forgot or would like to address, even if you think it’s irrelevant or burdensome. I will be your advocate.” As I establish rapport with them, the walls come down, and they often provide important information that helps my team provide the best care for them.
Contributing Writer
Rutgers-Robert Wood Johnson Medical School
I'm a 4th year medical student studying at Rutgers-Robert Wood Johnson Medical School. I'm passionate about addressing healthcare disparity and health policy. One of my goals in life is to work at the federal level to influence healthcare policy laws that will ensure those who desperately need adequate healthcare are not lost through the cracks in our healthcare system. My hobbies include natural bodybuilding, learning programming languages, building websites, blogging, learning French, and watching foreign films. I also love to travel and experience new cultures.
