Tag: humanism in medicine

Vivienne Meljen Vivienne Meljen (3 Posts)

Contributing Writer

The Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth

Vivienne T. Meljen is a fourth-year medical student at the Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth ('17) and a graduate of The University of Scranton ('13). She will soon be beginning her residency in Obstetrics and Gynecology at Duke University Medical Center. She is a 2013 Truman Scholar and National Health Service Corps Scholar interested in working with medically underserved populations. Vivienne first learned about Narrative Medicine through an English course in college and is taking strides to begin to share her stories. She takes pride in her education and work as a physician-to-be as well as spending time with her family and enjoying outdoor action sports any time of year and anywhere. Follow her on Twitter: @StethoscopeOn




Transitioning to the Clinical Years: Be A Duck

Published by Vivienne Meljen

“Be a duck,” became my mantra throughout medical school, so much so that my mother had it printed onto a canvas and has it hanging on a wall at home in my honor. As a medical student you might think I would be more interested in having the prowess of a lioness, the elegance of an eagle, the speed of a cheetah or the energy of a dolphin. A duck, as most envision it, does not have much appeal; except, however, when swimming. The quote that led me to emulate the duck is Michael Caine’s, “Be a duck, remain calm on the surface and paddle like the dickens underneath.”

Please Not Me

Published by Maseray Kamara

“Please not me,” I pray earnestly. Not me. Not me. I don’t want to become the medical student-turned-resident-turned-physician who loses empathy. The one who loses compassion. The one who takes lives and near death experiences for granted, who quickly learns, as an ER attending once bluntly stated, that “everyone’s a liar.” Not me.

Empathy in Medicine

Published by Hannah Simon

When I enter the examining room, Mr. Jones is visibly distressed. His chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath. I glance at his charts and make note of his chief complaint: chest pain. After a brief introduction, I fire off a barrage of well-rehearsed questions: When did the chest pain first begin? Does it radiate outwards or stay localized in one spot? Is there anything that makes the pain better or worse?

A Third Year Opus — Chapter Three: The Tenant

Published by Ajay Koti

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.

A Lesson in Fragility

Published by Rithu Srikantha

On the first day of my psychiatry rotation I was anxious, and like most students I worried. I worried I would not have anything to say and I worried I would say too much. I worried I would say the wrong thing at the wrong time and I worried that my words would be more consequential than I ever intended them to be. I worried about my worry.

Dangers of Falling Into the Bias Trap: A Story of Two Patients

Published by Madhavi Bhavsar

In medical school nowadays, there is a heavy emphasis on perfecting a physician’s demeanor when interacting with patients. Classes on essential patient care focus upon the social constructs of medicine, allowing permeable medical minds to ponder over various patient-care scenarios and determine the perfect method of one’s bedside manner. I used to believe such classes were ludicrous.

Chart Review

Published by Leigh Finnegan

Seeing this dialog box, which pops up on the hospital’s electronic health record program, is never a surprise. On the list of patients whose charts I’m supposed to review for my summer research project, the deceased ones are highlighted in grey, setting them apart from the otherwise black-and-white list of names and medical record numbers.

Once the Compressions Stop

Published by Tim Beck

White gloves on black skin. The fingers of my gloved hands still interlaced, still resting tensely over her sternum. Elbows still locked. Frozen in the position endlessly refined during CPR training. It turns out that blood flow is important for catheter angiography, which presents a challenge if your patient has no heartbeat. Has not had a heartbeat for 45 minutes.

Tim Beck (4 Posts)

Medical Student Editor Emeritus

Drexel University College of Medicine

I am an MD/PhD Candidate at Drexel University College of Medicine/Fox Chase Cancer Center. My research focuses on cancer cell signaling, drug resistance, cancer cell invasion and discovery of prognostic biomarkers. Politics (national and international), foreign affairs and healthcare policy are additional topics I am particularly interested in.