Contributing Writer
Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk, Virginia
Matthew is a medical student at Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk, Virginia in the class of 2026. He graduated from the College of William and Mary in 2021 with a B.S. in chemistry. He enjoys hiking, running, and reading in his free time. After graduating from medical school, Matthew would like to pursue a career in emergency medicine.
“Walker! David Walker!” I called the name of the next patient as I stood in front of the obnoxiously loud automatic doors that separated the emergency department waiting room from the clinical area. As the doors scraped shut behind me, I realized I’d probably called his name too loudly. The waiting room was dead silent. Only empty chairs on a nauseatingly sticky floor looked back at me as I glanced around the room for Mr. …
It, in fact, hit me like a wall. As I pushed past mile 20 in my first marathon, I felt the notorious ‘wall’. My glycogen stores were depleted, and my legs felt like they were no longer part of my body, but rather two 40 pound dumbbells I was lifting and dropping on the hard pavement with each step forward. Most distance runners would break down a marathon as a two-part race: cruising for the …
The clinic room was quiet, the air laced with the familiar scent of hand sanitizer. Cold air crept out from the overhead vent and slipped through my scrubs, sharpening my focus but numbing my hands at the same time. I was a third-year medical student on my family medicine rotation. Sitting across from me was my first patient of the day, a woman in her forties, here for her routine annual checkup. I settled onto …
Oh God, what time is it? I stumbled over to my bedside table in pitch-black darkness, thanks to my new blackout curtains, which continue to be the best financial decision I have ever made, and checked my phone that was blasting my alarm.
As patients moved in and out of the modest office for their appointments, their duffel bags and luggage in tow containing all their personal belongings, the day unfolded in typical fashion. Yet, within the confines of this psychiatry office catering exclusively to the local unhoused population, “normal” took on a unique meaning.
“Your time starts now. You may begin your examination.” These were the words said moments before a life-altering moment during my high school years.
It was Valentine’s Day morning with about thirty minutes until rounds when I noticed Madeline, one of our medical students, approaching. I took my eyes off the WOW to greet her, and she shakily said that the nurse had just told her that a patient was pulseless.
A light knock at your hospital room door and my introduction: “I am a first year MD-PhD student. Thank you.”
Every day after clinic, I eagerly anticipate the serene stroll along Brickell Key, a therapeutic journey that has become a source of solace. I look forward to the sound of palm trees swaying and waves crashing. I am excited about being greeted by wagging tails of enthusiastic dogs, eagerly seeking attention with their beady eyes.
No matter how much I learn, some things cannot be taught. There was no prepared script and no checklist to follow when my father tersely told me, “Your uncle in India passed.” Five solemn words and a pregnant silence. His eyes, rung with the blue of cataracts, did not shed a tear. Instead, they were fixed on an empty corner of our worn sectional couch.
My patient sleeps peacefully. / I wake him guiltily. / I don’t want my face to be the first he sees.
When I told my aunt I was going to medical school, she looked me up and down and said, “So you’re going to be a know-it-all.”
Contributing Writer
Spencer Fox Eccles School of Medicine
Eliza is a medical student at the University of Utah Medical School in Salt Lake City, Utah, Class of 2025. She graduated from Brigham Young University in 2019 with a neuroscience major and creative writing minor. In her free time, she enjoys running, hiking in the mountains, writing poetry, and reading historical novels. She plans to pursue a career in otolaryngology.
