“Hello, my name is Shraddha and I’m a third year medical student. Today, I’m working with Dr. X… is it okay if I ask you a few questions before the doctor comes in?” Not once have you said no to me.
Every time I make this request, I prepare myself for rejection. Considering everything at stake in your position (privacy, vulnerability, time), it is a mystery to me why anyone would let an inexperienced student work with them at the doctor's office. Yet without fail, every time I ask, you invite me into your examination room and personal life with a welcoming smile.
You trust me… a humbling realization for me once it sinks in! It is the little things my patients do that keep me going through third year: A busy, working mother sitting patiently through my extensive, time-consuming history. A three year old giggling as I, a stranger she’s never met before, attempts to listen to her heart. A teenager confiding in me things he hasn’t even told his own parents.
The most overwhelming of all of these experiences is at the conclusion of our encounter, when you say “good luck with everything”, “you’re doing great”, or even the occasional “you’re going to make a great doctor”. I am forever appreciative of your kindness, patience, openness, and confidence in my abilities. You are a constant reminder of why I chose medicine – to connect with others in a deeper, more meaningful way and to work with others to better the human condition.
To my first patients – thank you.
Every time I make this request, I prepare myself for rejection. Considering everything at stake in your position (privacy, vulnerability, time), it is a mystery to me why anyone would let an inexperienced student work with them at the doctor's office. Yet without fail, every time I ask, you invite me into your examination room and personal life with a welcoming smile.
You trust me… a humbling realization for me once it sinks in! It is the little things my patients do that keep me going through third year: A busy, working mother sitting patiently through my extensive, time-consuming history. A three year old giggling as I, a stranger she’s never met before, attempts to listen to her heart. A teenager confiding in me things he hasn’t even told his own parents.
The most overwhelming of all of these experiences is at the conclusion of our encounter, when you say “good luck with everything”, “you’re doing great”, or even the occasional “you’re going to make a great doctor”. I am forever appreciative of your kindness, patience, openness, and confidence in my abilities. You are a constant reminder of why I chose medicine – to connect with others in a deeper, more meaningful way and to work with others to better the human condition.
To my first patients – thank you.