My interest in radiology began, as it does for many, with the thrill of coming to a solution based on imaging and some sparse words on a patient’s chief complaint. Reading radiologic scans is like learning a language — a code composed of axial and coronal views, enhancing and nonenhancing areas and anatomical landmarks. When you dive into the millimeter slices of a contrast CT and the defect snaps to your attention, you are hooked.
As a fourth-year medical student from a new medical school who just finished interviewing for ophthalmology residency, I can credit much of my interview season experience to intentional career planning and preparation early on. The ultimate impact of the upcoming changes to the USMLE Step 1 to pass/fail is yet to be fully determined. However, in my perspective, this monumental shift in medical education will place a greater emphasis on the need for thoughtful career planning earlier in medical school.
These are the subjects / you taught me, but as I sit in this / despair, they don’t comfort me. / I need you to teach me more.
After four years of intensive studying, two years with long hours in the hospital and three years of dating, we made the decision to apply to dermatology and plastic surgery. Recognizing the competitive nature of both of these fields, we quickly realized that matching together may not be feasible. We wanted to take each other into account in the process without either one of us making a large sacrifice in the quality of our training program to be together. Open communication and transparency were critical for us throughout the process.
After submitting the ERAS application, you might let out a deep breath and feel a transient sense of relief. But submitting also means that interviews are around the corner — a reality that can quickly bring about excitement, worry, and anticipation.
Medical schools have an interest in advocating that their medical students pursue research in order to prepare them for careers in academia.
Good times have never passed as quickly as the three months, ten days and twelve hours
I have spent under Dr. ***’s service.
I can only hope that you, my future physician colleagues, and I can understand the greater meaning of the white coat and fulfill its truest potential. That white coat is now our life, and we must not take it for granted.
As I look into the future, my greatest fears dance with my deepest hopes. I may pine for change even while wishing I could stay exactly where I am. I don’t know what I will do yet.
The most stressful part of the medical school application process for me was the last phase, when there was nothing I could do except wait to hear back. I feel most content when I know there are concrete actions I can take to influence an outcome I care about.
Here you are: the place that you have been attempting to achieve for many years. At this point, I am sure you have heard a lot of advice regarding your future. Many of those ahead of you have probably given you the ubiquitous “Enjoy fourth year!” advice before you enter the trenches that are residency.
Dear medical students, I’m sorry. You had just finished two years of didactic learning and couldn’t wait to feel like a “real” doctor. You were finally starting your clerkships, that is, finally working with patients and getting deep in the trenches.