Contributing Writer
University of Arizona-Tucson
Hannah is an MD/PhD student at the University of Arizona-Tucson who joined the program in 2020. In 2018, she graduated from the University of Florida with a Bachelor of Science in microbiology and cell science with a minor in bioinformatics. After graduation, Hannah dedicated 2 years at the National Institutes of Health (NIH)-NIDA branch to research novel therapeutic treatments for opioid addiction in a behavioral animal model. She completed her PhD in Medical Pharmacology in 2024. She enjoys hiking, trail running, and reading in her free time. Hannah is looking forward to experiencing the variety of opportunities the program has to offer her in helping her decide the right path and specialty best fit for her.
Moving to Arizona for an eight-year dual-degree MD/PhD program was one of the biggest, and reflecting back, best decisions I had ever made. Though at the time, it truly felt like the scariest commitment of my life.
As we got closer to the ED, the excitement evolved into a feeling of discomfort. It was uncomfortable to feel even briefly excited by another person’s misfortune. I felt a sense of disequilibrium as I realized I had strayed from the delicate balance medical students and physicians continually try to find.
Much like the development of a butterfly, the journey through medicine is an exquisite metamorphosis. As a fourth-year student looking back at the past four years, I remain grateful to those who helped pave the path for me to grow into what will soon be a physician.
You were worried the year would be difficult, you didn’t know how to live months on end without seeing or hugging family and didn’t know how you would meet and talk to 230 people in your class (and no, you still haven’t, but at least you might know 70%).
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.
The crumpled old gentleman nestled in the armchair of his hospital room, bundled in blankets from the warmer down the hall, cards from his family propped up like a miniature Stonehenge on the table beside him. I listened closely to his heart and lungs, eyed the half-full urinal hooked onto his bed frame, and drew my fingers along his shins.
In medical school, it is said time and time again by upperclassmen that having a mentor is integral to success as a medical student. Mentors are valuable because they can connect you with opportunities, give advice on career planning and also provide reassurance when you need it.
As I step carefully into the sterile field / past the rows of scalpels, forceps and clamps, / I sense a gentle fluttering in my chest.
My decision to return to school to pursue a doctorate degree in medicine came as a shock to many.
Like many medical students, I was vastly underprepared for the emotional turmoil that the nature of the third year of medical school can create.
After our first week on clinical rotations, my third-year medical student colleagues laughed about the silly and awkward things that made their first days hard. Someone was shunned for bumping into the sterile field during their first operation. Someone else couldn’t figure out the scrub machines and was stuck mismatching for the day.
“Welcome, everybody, to the last module of your second year.” I froze. There was no way. I pulled up Google calendar on my laptop in the increasingly warm lecture hall. Oh my gosh, they were right!
Trisha Kaundinya is an internal medicine-dermatology combined resident at Mass General-Brigham and Harvard Dermatology. In her free time, she enjoys cycling and cooking.
