Contributing Writer
Sidney Kimmel Medical College Thomas Jefferson University
Michael is a fourth year medical student at Sidney Kimmel Medical College within Thomas Jefferson University in Philadelphia, PA class of 2021. In 2015, he graduated from the George Washington University with a Bachelor of Science in psychology and cognitive neuroscience and in 2017, he graduated from the University of California, Berkeley and San Francisco with a Master of Science in translational medicine. When he is not working on healthcare innovation projects, he enjoys kayaking, paddle boarding, biking, hiking, swimming, and playing badminton. After graduating from medical school, Michael would like to pursue a career at the intersection of MedTech and Anesthesiology.
In the neuro intensive care unit, I took part in a meeting with my team to update a family on the status of their loved one. It was my first time in this type of meeting, especially for a patient that I was directly involved in caring for. To our team of medical professionals, he is our 51-year-old male patient with a 45-pack-year smoking history, but to his family, he’s a son, a husband and a father.
My friends and I wished we knew how to flourish from the beginning, so we decided to create Wards & Boards, a peer-to-peer mentorship mobile app. The app compiled advice from fourth-year medical students who completed each clerkship designed for third-year students beginning their first rotation.
I began my journey with the Deaf community before coming to medical school starting with a basic American Sign Language class just to learn a few routine signs. I continued with the American Sign Language Club at Geisinger Commonwealth School of Medicine, hoping to learn more medical signs for any future interactions with Deaf patients. Through the club, I recently met an incredible four-year-old boy named John at a local community event to meet Peppa Pig.
I actually don’t remember his name; he wasn’t my patient. I just saw him during rounds every day during my internal medicine clerkship. He was in his late-80s, and he was very ill. He had a long history of COPD, most likely attributed to his even longer history of smoking. He had been admitted to our service for a severe respiratory infection a few days prior to me starting the rotation. This was my last rotation of my 3rd year, and I walked in thinking I had seen enough COPD patients to know exactly what to expect.
You were my first patient on my first inpatient rotation as a third-year medical student, which meant that I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I was mostly concerned with trying not to faint during presentations on morning rounds. I stared at your bowl of Cheerios, the cereal beginning to turn the skim milk a pale yellow. Your brow furrowed in annoyance behind your thick glasses.
A few years ago, I found CrossFit. Since then, I have spent a large share of my free time training and improving my health and fitness. As with any sport, there was a large learning curve. However, as I trained, my mind and body adapted. I made strides both athletically and mentally that I never thought were possible. I never imagined that this preparation and development would translate to a seemingly opposing task: medical school.
How could I study for my next exam instead of focusing my energy on the crisis around me? Was I selfish for still worrying about doing well in school while others died alone in the hospital on a ventilator? In these moments, I found respite in “Learning in War-Time,” a sermon delivered by C.S. Lewis to the students of Oxford in 1939 just as World War II began. In this timely sermon, Lewis addressed the chief concern on students’ minds: Why continue to study philosophy or science “when the lives of our friends and the liberties of Europe are in the balance?”
A first-year medical student’s stress and anxiety begin to take physical form as she navigates her first year of medical school.
A scalpel, a corpse — / His beard is neat, his eyes are / Empty. Gloves hide clammy hands / Afraid of what awaits beneath
You don’t have to sit in silence and painfully nod along with an attending’s racist, misogynistic lectures because you’re their medical student. You don’t need to pick the skin off your cuticles to stop yourself from replying. You don’t need to learn how to hide your grimaces behind your mask because you know you’ll have to listen to them attack your identity for the next several weeks.
You call me on a Thursday to tell me / You were diagnosed with leukemia in October.
Investigate. / Deeper, / deeper, / deeper: / To a depth of understanding beyond understanding.
Contributing Writer
University of Colorado Anschutz School of Medicine
Kelly Wigglesworth is a third-year medical student at the University of Colorado Anschutz School of Medicine class of 2022. In 2016, Kelly received a Bachelor of Science in biology and a minor in classical humanities from Biola University in La Mirada, California. Throughout her life, she has been an adventure-seeker and lover of all living things. In the moments between clinics and research, Kelly gardens, runs, paints, writes poetry, and flees to the mountains to snowboard or hike. She loves God and is passionate about recognizing the spiritual and psychological elements of health: both in the medical field and through poetry. Upon graduation, Kelly plans to become a pediatrician.
