A visiting speaker once advised me to find a purpose in life, then figure out how to get there, rather than choose a career then figure out what to do with it. He happened to be a doctor who gave up practice to found a global health charity, but he says he began with the goal of reducing inequality. I thought I would go into the world of foreign policy for a long time. But I couldn’t shake the sense that I wanted to tangibly make a difference in individuals’ lives, and medical school is how I want to get there. Nothing matters more to people than their health and the health of their loved ones, and I’ve found hospice to embody this goal of helping people at their most vulnerable. It’s not about combating death or disease; it’s about giving the patients the best lives they can have. From a doctor’s perspective, sometimes that may be doing everything possible to treat their condition, but other times it may be acknowledging that the best you can give them is comfort.
I remember a particularly friendly patient whose dementia caused her to forget what we had just talked about — but she never forgot her love of clothes. She complimented me on my sweater’s vibrant shade of pink approximately twice per minute and seemed delighted to begin a conversation about colors each time. We had countless iterations of this conversation — favorite colors, my sweater, the seasons — during which I got a glimpse of her personal taste as well as her leisurely approach to shopping. I never would have thought a sweater could be a point of connection, and I never would have thought a thirty second conversation about a shade of pink could spark joy. But that repeated conversation was the most constructive thing I did that day. We students live in a culture that glorifies and demands productivity, whether it be our schoolwork or our extracurriculars. We are under pressure to be busy and get a lot done, always moving towards the next goal or deadline. Most of us, myself included, are productive, but constructive and productive are not the same. Granted, most of my visits were not like this. Patients were often asleep or unwilling to engage. Many didn’t care about our presence. But I still think I’ve learned a lot just from being there and watching others, either nurses or fellow volunteers, interact with patients.
I know I’ve become a better volunteer over the last few months; I can feel my social skills in this context improving. In the beginning I was always nervous about knowing the right thing to say, but the conversations have become more natural and I’m more confident in my ability to project calmness. To see patients find joy in small things was inspiring, and sharing in that joy gave me a unique window into a career based so much on individual connection and vulnerability. I am so much more comfortable with the elderly, particularly those with degenerative conditions, than I used to be. My parents and I encountered a patient with dementia in our neighborhood recently, and while they were uncomfortable, I realized I was not. I felt sad, but not afraid.
Deciding to return to the medical school path required a leap of faith. All I had to go on was an interest in science and some positive shadowing opportunities. This was my first exposure to directly working with patients, and I believe I can show how my perspective has broadened in a striking way, even from less than a year of visits. This work is hard, not at all the same as taking blood pressures in a clinic. But you cannot go to medical school without knowing what you’re getting into, and medical schools require you to demonstrate this. To face death means facing a side of healthcare most people do not want to acknowledge. I didn’t grieve for the two patients I visited who passed; I didn’t really know them, but my visits collectively helped me work towards a balance of genuinely caring for them without letting it become personal. I believe I can show that I can and still want to handle the hard parts of this career.
I don’t know what type of doctor I’ll be, but I’m more confident in my desire to do this work. Interactions with patients’ family members meant just as much to me — often they are facing just as much, if not more, pain. I left the premedical track because I had no conceptual understanding of other careers and wanted to explore. Having learned what other sectors are like, I now can’t imagine doing anything else.