Contributing Writer
Marian University College of Osteopathic Medicine
Maria is a fourth year medical student at Marian University College of Osteopathic Medicine in Indianapolis, Indiana class of 2022. In 2015, she graduated from Loyola Marymount University with a Bachelor of Science in biology and a minor in psychology. She enjoys reading, trying new pastry shops, and befriending her friends' dogs in her fr ee time. After graduating medical school, Maria would like to pursue a career in psychiatry, with a focus on women's mental health.
On Monday morning, a medical assistant finds me with a nasal swab in hand. I scribble my signature and temperature on the form he hands me. “Ready, Maria?” he asks, and then laughs when I groan in response. I tilt my head, close my eyes and wait for the worst part to be over. After 15 minutes of waiting in the student workroom, he tells me I am COVID-19 negative and set for the week.
How was I going to navigate living alone, so far from family, in an unfamiliar state? Who would take care of me if I got really sick? And most importantly, how would I deal with loneliness?
“Abuse is of use.” / That is what we tell ourselves. / That it makes us stronger.
The power and beauty of writing rest in a process of active narrative formation. The act of expression helps us make sense of what happened, integrate this into our sense of self, and clarify our values that will influence our next steps. Conveniently, our expression serves as a record of both identity and narrative formation, giving us a glimpse of ourselves more intimately than we typically take time for.
Instead, I was worried that medicine would consume me only to regurgitate me as a mere collection of cells and systems — just like those I would be expected to regurgitate on the test. I was worried that the demands of knowing it all would make me believe that I could know it all, that there is nothing in the spaces between what we know. I was worried that bathing in science would make me stop believing in art.
The Match process is an emotional roller coaster ride that feels like it lasts forever but also flies by. Being on the other side and looking back, I wanted to do my part and share my thoughts about how to stay grounded and sane during this time.
A classmate of mine committed suicide a few weeks ago. Though I’ve heard the harrowing statistics about physician and trainee suicide rates, to be honest, I never expected to personally encounter such a tragedy. The small classes at my medical school allow for a strong sense of community in which we all know each other, celebrate important life milestones, and happily reconnect when we’re together after clinical rotations scatter us throughout the hospital.
My medical school career was complicated by more than just complex cardiac physiology or biochemical pathways. Little did I know that at the end of my second year I would go from knocking on a patient’s door during a clinical session, to sitting in an exam room myself.
The pressure and anxiety surrounding Step 1 is one of the main reasons cited by the USMLE to justify its adoption of a pass-fail grading system. However, many medical students are met with more trepidation about their future as this major anticipated change in Step 1 takes effect.
Presenteeism does not simply exist for seasoned providers; it seeps down the medical training pipeline and perhaps poses the greatest threat to trainees at the start of their careers. The fear of missing out as the “beginner on the team” can be paralyzing when there is so much important knowledge beyond us. Such pressure persists longitudinally, too, as trainees at every level fear that taking time off will appear as a lack of dedication to clinical education or will result in lower performance evaluations.
When the start of M3 year came along, I was ready: ready to put my First Aid book to rest, ready to be involved with patient care, ready to observe physicians in their realm of expertise and ready to find my place in the broad field of medicine. Now, halfway through the twelve months of clerkships, I ask myself, was it all I imagined it would be as an inexperienced first-year student?
if we can just cling / and weather this weather, / we can make some things / much better and better.
Writers-in-Training Program Director and Contributing Writer
University of Kentucky College of Medicine
Thomas Amburn is a third-year medical student at the University of Kentucky College of Medicine in Lexington, Kentucky class of 2022. In 2015, he graduated from Transylvania University with a Bachelor of Arts in chemistry. Thomas is a Fulbright scholar and lived in Thailand after graduation for over a year. He enjoys caring for his plants, writing, and planning his next travel in his free time. In the future, Thomas would like to pursue a career in general surgery.
