Contributing Writer
Geisel School of Medicine
Amal is a writer and medical student at the Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth, class of 2024. She graduated from Wellesley College with a Bachelor of Arts in biochemistry and political science in 2017. Prior to medical school, she pursued a Thomas J. Watson Fellowship and a post-baccalaureate in biomedical ethics. Outside of class, you can usually find her writing, reading, baking, or adventuring in the outdoors.
In early spring, amid the earlier quarantines, I watched dandelions grow outside my window. At first, subtly and hidden among the blades of grass. Then budding, bursting yellow amid green galaxies. These tiny suns danced in April’s wind and their scent carried morning’s dew and earth-like warmth into midday, until the smells of grills and barbecues took stage.
Today, I am determined to notice love. The sun comes up bright and full each morning to keep us warm.
During one of my first patient encounters at the clinic, I remember a young and seemingly indifferent patient come in with earbuds plugged in her ears. Her hands tightly grasped the arms of the exam chair as she anxiously awaited the arrival of the clinic optometrist.
This work is about vulnerability and the feeling of being vulnerable. There is a special exposure to vulnerability for everyone who is taking part in healthcare systems, be it of course as a patient who potentially suffers restrictions in their physical and/or psychic integrity trough illness or also the caregivers who are under pressure to be attentive, know the right things, act and speak properly all the time.
As we progressed through our other coursework simultaneously, this course seemed to synthesize it all, impressing upon us the weighty responsibility of becoming a future health provider. This piece, entitled “The Practice of My Art,” is a collage of illustrations I drew throughout the year reflecting on different courses, organ systems, or learning experiences from my first year of medical school.
What if I could see the emotions that flood my patient’s mind? What if I could know how much space anger, frustration, joy, sorrow, hope took up in their mind’s real estate?
Dead eschars are excised. / Skin grafts grow like flowers / Repotted for new life.
The pungent odor of formaldehyde permeates through the room and I can smell it through my mask and face shield. I am leaning over the body I am dissecting, trying to identify structures as the instructor appears before our tank, armed with a grading pen and a barrage of questions.
Grandpapa had a gift for storytelling. / Sitting on the two-legged stools at the end of the Hutong,
When we approached his room, Craig was wedged in the doorway, sitting on his walker angled towards the nurse’s station. It was the first time I had set foot in a hospital as a medical student; the task was to simply chat with a patient for about forty minutes. “Craig?” one of the nurses called out. “Yep! I am Craig, at least I was before I got in here!” he replied. Something about the enthusiasm in his voice appealed to me, so I sat down next to him and struck up a conversation.
One of the most impactful influences on my decision to become a doctor was meeting a patient with multiple sclerosis (MS). I was 19 years old and a hospital volunteer in Michigan. As I was replacing gloves, gowns and towels in my department, I entered the room of an elderly Eastern-European woman.
Soon after I began my clinical rotations in medical school, I started to see it. It was subtle. At first, I didn’t even notice it. It usually happens during hand-over, when the night team fills in the day team on overnight events, including any new admissions.
Contributing Writer
University of Oklahoma College of Medicine
Zachary is a fourth-year medical student at the University of Oklahoma College of Medicine in Oklahoma City, OK class of 2023. In 2018, he graduated from the University of Oklahoma with a Bachelor of Science in psychology, summa cum laude. He is interested in using the medical humanities to explore the physician-patient relationship. After graduating from medical school, Zachary would like to pursue residency training in psychiatry.
