I was walking out of a grocery store on the Upper West Side of Manhattan in November of 2013 when I received the phone call: I’d been admitted to medical school. I cried, called my mom, and celebrated with close friends that evening. At that point in my life, I had left a career in documentary filmmaking, went back to school in my late 20s, survived premed courses, and made it through application season. I breathed a sigh of relief and took a moment to feel proud of my accomplishments. Anyone who has been through the process of applying to medical school understands its emotional toll.
Three and a half years later, I have entered my fourth year of medical school and am preparing my next set of applications—this time for residency in obstetrics & gynecology. “The days are long, the years are short” is a motto that has rung true. Once again, I have endured examinations, collected letters of recommendation, and begun traveling around the country to visit residency programs. The path toward becoming a physician is one of endless challenges and milestones, obstacles and accomplishments. Between my white coat ceremony and my final shelf exam of third year, there were times I found myself (or a classmate) questioning the decision to enter this field and climb the uphill ascent toward our goals. I have found that during challenging moments of medical school, it was important to remind myself what brought me to this profession and what I hope to take away from a career in medicine.
During my rural general surgery rotation in Deming, NM, I met a patient who was passing through town while traveling around the Southwest. He noticed a growth on his calf and was concerned it could be skin cancer. The surgeon asked me to develop a plan, and I suggested we excise the lesion in the office that day in order to avoid losing this traveler to follow-up. I removed the lesion and sutured the skin, with my attending physician inspecting my work. A week later, I was back in Phoenix for my next rotation, a common theme of third year as clinical rotations rapidly cycle. However, later that week, I received a message from the surgeon letting me know that the pathology report came back positive for cancer but with negative margins. “Congratulations, you cured this patient of cancer,” he wrote. However small this heavily supervised accomplishment may be, for me it will always remain a triumph of my time in medical school.
Sometime, during the next four years, you will question your decision to enter the field of medicine. You will experience examples of patient care that may make you feel uncomfortable. Exam fatigue will drag you down. However, I urge you to take a moment and remember what brought you here and everything you have already achieved. Medical school has been full of moments that brought me tears of joy. I delivered babies, hugged family members after successful surgeries, high-fived brave children after receiving vaccines, and listened as elderly patients shared incredible stories of their lives. As medical students, it is easy to feel purposeless in a hospital full of professionals, but we can make a difference by listening, by learning, and by setting an example of humanism in medicine. The next four years will bring unimaginable delights and discoveries. Who knows—maybe you’ll cure cancer.
Congratulations on your achievement!
Michelle Blumenschine is a medical student in the Class of 2018. She holds degrees in film & TV production and journalism & mass communication from New York University and completed her pre-med post-bac certificate at Columbia University. Before moving to Phoenix from New York City, Michelle worked as a documentary film producer. She enjoys making to-do lists, drinking craft beer, and collecting National Geographic magazines. She is pursuing a career in obstetrics and gynecology.