Friday, June 20, 2008

Transition to Clinical Medicine

This is a longer post, but I promise it is worth the read.

Last night we had our Transition to Clinical Medicine Ceremony. The class of 2010 gathered in the hospital auditorium, once again wearing our white coats listened to a few speeches, and retook the Hippocratic Oath. It was a time for us to reflect on the past two years and look ahead at the next two. We're halfway there - M. - 2 more years and it'll be the full M.D.

One of my best friends, Mr. Richard Tran - was nominated by our class to speak last night. As is Rich's style - he kept it real, down to earth, and was thoughtful as always. Someday he will make a wonderful physician. I will let you judge for yourself - below is a copy of an inspiring speech!



We've decided that the picture below - should be used as Rich's campaign photo should he ever decide to go into politics.


I was trying to think of a word to summarize what these last two years—these preclinical years--have been about. And the word that I came up with is…information. So much information. Too much information even…that almost makes you feel ashamed to know it. For example, it makes me sad that I know what smegma is.

But information on its own is a lifeless thing; it’s not organic. Yes, we can learn in a vacuum; we can gain a lot of knowledge when we’re apart from the world as we’ve been these last two years. But we didn’t sign up for this to be strictly learners or to know it all; we signed up to become doers and practitioners. And you can’t practice in a vacuum. You can’t do anything that matters when you’re insulated in a classroom or a library cubby. Today marks an occasion when we take a step toward becoming doers.

Just a couple months ago, our daily routine was looking at Powerpoints and pdf files over and over. A few weeks from now, you might find yourself looking into the face of someone’s daughter instead. That’s quite a change…and one might ask, how can we expect to be prepared for this re-entry of real life into our world? How do you go from studying in quiet to performing out there, where anything can happen?

Here’s the secret…we’ve been preparing for this our entire lives, not just the past two years. All of the things that built you into the person that you are today will equip you with much of what you’ll need. I look into this crowd—I look at all your pretty and handsome faces--and I don’t necessarily see med students. I see mothers. I see fathers. I see people who hustled to get here, and people that have been through struggle. Medical school is only the latest chapter in our life stories; we’ve had many, many chapters written prior to this one.

So when you look into a patient’s eyes and see that they’re scared, you’ll be ready for that moment. Not because you’ve had a lecture on sympathy and empathy—which we have--but because YOU’VE BEEN scared. You know how that feels, and you know what you can do. When you’re trying to figure out the right thing to do in a situation this year, remember that you’ve spent the past 20, 30, 40 years of your life doing the right thing. You’ll KNOW what the right thing is.

When you’re put on the spot and you have to step up, that’s not going to be new either. Because you’ve had to step up many times before. We are all grown, experienced men and women, who have seen a lot of life, and all that life has readied us.

Now that we’re ready, we have a lot of things to look forward to in the coming year—some good, some maybe not as good. We’ve heard the stories about the hours, the work, the stress, the patients, attendings, and…what do they call it…pimping? And we hear all of that. We acknowledge that not everything will be sweet all the time. In spite of this, there is one truly BEAUTIFUL thing that we can ALL look forward to.

If you close your eyes and indulge me a little, think about the best moments of your life. I’m talking about the truly best moments of your life, not when you got your first Nintendo. I’m talking about those times when you were the most proud of yourself, and when you felt the highest. When I think about those moments, they have a common thread. They happened when I accomplished something that I DIDN’T know I had in me. It’s a sweet feeling when you rise to the occasion and go beyond what you thought your limits were.

All of us are GUARANTEED those moments in the coming year. They say there are no guarantees in life? Well, I guarantee this one, personally; double your money back if I’m wrong. At some point, every single one of us will pause, smile, and think, “Did I just do that?” That’s the beauty of our field. We work at the extremes of the human condition—with its excitement, emotion, and uncertainty. There’s no way that you can be where we’re going to be…in the wards and clinics…and not be tested. Every day we walk into work, we are being given a chance—at least a chance, if nothing more--to step up and do something beyond the ordinary everyday. And we’ll be new and maybe naive enough that none of it will have become routine yet. A challenge is not something to be scared of; it’s a privilege to be enjoyed.

That means, at any point this year—whether high or low--some of the proudest moments of your life will always be around the corner. Get ready to create and enjoy some of the best moments of your life starting in a few weeks. We’ll be here to share them with you.

I’d like to close by asking a favor from all of you. From here on out—not just for the duration of our time here, but for life—let’s look out for each other. Let’s look out for each other. Collectively, we’ve chosen a path in life that is not the easiest; there are going to be some hard times when you could use an angel, and then there will be times when you can be somebody’s angel. As medical students, as doctors, we are…weird. But we can understand and support each other in ways that even our friends and family can’t.

With that said, there’s one of us who needs to be looked out for especially, because she couldn’t be here with us today. Christina has been eulogized properly by people far more worthy than I; I’m not here to do that. Going forward, I feel like the best way to honor someone’s memory is to do it through action and to keep acting year after year. When we get out there—again not just for our remaining time here, but for life--our work doesn’t end when we’ve finished everything we’ve been assigned. The world lost something when they took Christina away from us. We need to do a little more, a little extra—with her in mind—to not only make up for that loss, but to gain it back in multiples. If fate cheated us by taking Christina away, we need to cheat fate right back by not letting her go. We do that by carrying out together what she would have done if she was still here.

Class of 2010, it makes me so proud to be here with you in this moment. We’re at an uncertain stage—kind of a no man’s land—between student and doctor. This year will likely be a time of heavy uncertainty as well. But if we trust in our own strength, and we work hard for the right people and for the right reasons, everything’s going to be all right. Thank you and I love you all. Let’s go!


In case you were wondering what smegma is: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smegma





1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Rich did a wonderful job on his speech. I liked the part about medical students being weird. I did not need to know what smegna was.