Kimaya Gazula is an undergraduate student at Boston University, Class of 2028. She enjoys spending time with her dog Luna, writing narrative pieces, and performing Indian Classical Dance. In the future, she hopes to care for underserved communities as a physician.
“Call security. We need restraints.” The nurse yelled out into the hallway while he gently held down the patient’s strong right arm that vigorously wrestled in all directions to escape. I, a relatively new Patient Care Associate on the floor, was on the other arm. His screams echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and into the hallway, prompting glances from other staff members. I had walked in a few minutes earlier with his …
This was my patient. I sat with her, held her hand, coaxed her to share pieces of her life story from underneath the covers.
On the fifteenth day that Marietta had not eaten, the psychiatry team knew they could no longer take care of her. With each day, her body grew weaker, her blood pressure softened, and her heart beat faster to keep her alive. By the time the medicine team was consulted, her heart was laboring at 130 beats per minute.
The first thing I noticed entering Betty’s room was her walls. They were papered, nearly from floor to ceiling, with photographs of celebrities. Taylor Swift, Sam Smith and Ed Sheeran all stared back at me.
This is a story for those who struggle in finding their specialty. Sometimes it takes time to figure out your place in medicine. We may not always find it on our first try, but the journey in its pursuit is what influences us into becoming the kind of physicians we are meant to be.
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.
The intruder slithers in at midnight, / slinking his way to the boy fast asleep, / the tangled mess of hospital wires his field of untrimmed grass,
When I was growing up, I used to love a particular series of video games called Trauma Center. In 2010, they released a version called Trauma Team where you got to play as various medical specialists, one of whom was simply considered a “Diagnostician.” Dr. Gabriel Cunningham’s “cases” were some of the most challenging because you were presented with an array of symptoms, imaging, and lab work and started ruling in or ruling out diagnoses until you got the right answer.
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.
At the start of my psychiatry rotation, I was most apprehensive about performing the “bread and butter” exam of the specialty: the psychiatric interview. I was not afraid of forgetting which questions to ask, but rather how to ask said questions.
She sat on her bed in a bright magenta shirt covered in glittery animals, with her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her green eyes were trained on the muted television broadcasting Disney cartoons, and her bed was strewn with coloring books and crayons. This scene looked quite different from the other overdoses we had been consulted on. Still, our attending calmly walked up to her bedside, introduced our bustling team and asked the universal question,
Asking someone if they want to kill themselves becomes easier every time. The appalling part is how quickly this and other taboo personal questions became a normal part of my routine.
Contributing Writer
University of Massachusetts Medical School
Madeline is a member of the Class of 2021 at the University of Massachusetts Medical School. She received her BA in Public Health Studies from Johns Hopkins University in 2014 and MMSc in Immunology from Harvard Medical School in 2017. Her primary literary interest is short narratives, and she enjoys being outside and sending snail mail in her free time.
