Contributing Writer
Florida International University Herbert Wertheim College of Medicine
Andrew is a medical student at Florida International University Herbert Wertheim College of Medicine in Miami, Florida, Class of 2025. In 2020, he graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill with a Bachelor of Science in biology. He enjoys playing and watching sports and hanging out with friends in his free time. After graduating medical school, Andrew would like to pursue a career in orthopedics.
I realized that in my approach, she saw echoes of her abuser and an imbalance of power. I made sure to sit down in the chair next to her, eye level, to show her I was here to listen. No longer did I need my stethoscope. I had my most powerful tool of all, my listening skills.
When I followed up our conversation by offering a hug, I felt the full release of her sorrow in our embrace. It was as if recognition of her heartbreak gave her permission to express her devastation and fear in a moment of sudden tragedy.
During my family medicine rotation, I experienced one of my most memorable patient encounters. Accompanied by her daughter, my patient came for her annual physical with her primary care physician. Approaching them with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, I couldn’t help but notice the genuine happiness radiating from both of them.
I could feel my right lower leg starting to bend. And bend. And bend for an eternity before I finally hit the turf. Then, my only view through the bars of my helmet were the Friday night lights against the Friday night sky.
My third year had not been going as planned, and most days I was questioning my purpose in life, which I was once so sure of.
You never know what environment you are going to walk into at the start of a busy clinic day. Patients visit their doctors with a multitude of expectations and fears surrounding their medical treatment and care.
It is a snowy day in April / The three of us each sit at our own windows and watch the remainder of our winters, / She says it came out of nowhere. / She means the snow maybe, or the Dementia.
My eyes locked on the upside-down words scribbled on the paper that was torn from my preceptor’s notebook a few moments prior. Dear God, my patient wrote, I am grateful for this life.
As a future physician, this experience reminded me to remain empathetic, compassionate and unbiased in all aspects of patient care. By doing so, I can not only improve trust and connection with my patients but also ensure that my clinical judgment remains clear.
Most of all though, I tried to calm my racing mind and remind myself to just learn. And with that, I wondered, “What is the most important thing I can do today?”
I opened their chart and scrolled to the recent notes section. A new title I had never seen before popped on the screen. There, at the top of the chart, “Deceased Note” was written in bold letters.
Upon reflection, my actions and feelings in caring for this patient reveal how truly afraid I was to be wrong; not necessarily about the diagnosis, but rather about whether the patient would be okay. Maybe coming in daily and opening her chart for good news was just me hoping that my initial impression was still right instead of coming to terms with the fact I was very wrong.
Contributing Writer
Albany Medical College
Andrew M. Cyr is a fourth year medical student at Albany Medical College in Albany, NY, class of 2023. Originally from Schenectady, NY, Andrew graduated from Boston University in 2019 with his Bachelor of Arts and Master of Arts in biochemistry and biotechnology. Outside of medicine, Andrew likes to cook, exercise, read, explore the city, and discover new music. Upon graduation in May 2023, he will begin his residency in internal medicine at the Zucker School of Medicine at Hofstra/Northwell NS/LIJ. Andrew hopes to pursue a career in cardiology.
