I do not know what to say or feel when I first meet you. My first instinct is to introduce myself, but you can neither hear me nor reply. When you are uncovered, I finally get to see you. During a typical encounter with a stranger, it is customary to make eye contact and exchange names. It is out of respect for you, however, that I cannot see your face or even know your name. Without further ado, I am now supposed to observe your body, maneuver your limbs and carve into your flesh. While I know you chose this for yourself, I cannot help but feel like a butcher. I must greet you before we go any further. I imagine you might have had children and grandchildren, how you might have held their hands as they grew up and you passed on your wisdom on walks with them. I grasp your hand in greeting as you pass on your wisdom to one last generation.
I am told you are my “first patient.” You are certainly the first person I practice on, but I feel it is strange to call you my patient. I am deeply sorry there is nothing I can do for you. You are beyond the reach of treatment or cure, and my current level of knowledge is not great enough to help you even if anyone still could. If you are my patient, I feel that I have failed you. There is nothing I can give to you, but you knew this. You chose to be here to give something to me, to teach me about the wonders of the human body. In our humbling encounter, a student doctor seeks answers from a patient who dedicated herself to healing others. As you begin your lesson, I hear your wish. “Take my hand and learn from me.”
Image credit: 07.01.2012 – His Hand (CC BY-ND 2.0) by Jlhinton
Contributing Writer
Rutgers Robert Wood Johnson Medical School
Jillian is a medical student at Rutgers Robert Wood Johnson Medical School in Piscataway, New Jersey class of 2027. In 2020, she graduated from Columbia University with a Bachelor of Arts in biology. She enjoys writing, singing and practicing archery in her free time. In the future, Jillian would like to pursue a career in dermatology.