“We Are the Ones Who Must Break the Cycle”
Humans of Medicine #16
CrazySocks4Docs is a day to raise awareness on mental health issues amongst the medical community in Australia. This movement shows just how seriously we should take this issue as a community. This is my reflection on this burgeoning issue.
I have just completed several ED night shifts in a row as a medical student, and I can say that they were some of the most tiring days (and nights) I have ever had. I cannot comprehend how doctors are supposed to make decisions at 5am after being awake for so long, when our bodies are so tired, and we just want to lie down on the bed.
Last night, one of the registrars instructed me to assess new patients and report back to her to discuss the management plan for the patients. I was excited. At the start of the shift at 11pm, I could still use whatever brain cells left in me to think about the patients’ cases. However, when the clock struck 6 am, I just felt so tired and exhausted. I couldn’t think straight.
One of the patients came in with a central chest pain. I made my initial assessments, and then reported it back to the registrar. However, the registrar kept drilling me with questions with no clear intention of actually teaching me. I had some experience working with other doctors, and I think I can differentiate between doctors who want to educate me, and those who enjoy putting other people down. I began to crumple inside and couldn’t put my head together. She kept saying that I needed to present like an intern, but deep inside, I was just screaming and thinking, “I am just a student! Why do I have to do this?” I could see pity in the eyes of the interns around us. After the shift ended, I just couldn’t hold it anymore, and I burst out crying in the hospital toilet.
That was not the first time I cried in the hospital – it is difficult not to, considering the foul things some doctors have said to me. I won’t say it’s common practice in Australia, but when it does happen, it hurts. I usually justify my sadness by putting it down to me being tired from hospital work, and crying is just one of my ways to release all my bottled-up emotions and tiredness.
In my head, I would validate their actions by thinking that they meant well; they wanted me to be a good doctor. But in my heart, I would wonder, medicine is already challenging as it is. Why would people make it more difficult by being unkind to another? I cried all the way home feeling humiliated and defeated, ruminating over what she said and thinking that I may never be a competent doctor.
Reflecting on this situation, I admit that I still have a long way to go in terms of my experience and building up of resilience. I don’t think I will ever stop crying when I reach rock bottom and can’t hold it anymore. But I am also confident that things will began to change soon. Most of us realise that we are the ones who must break the cycle. It’s up to you and me, as future generations of doctors, to be more compassionate to one another and make medicine a rewarding career for everyone. Let us start being kinder to one another to improve the culture around us.
P.S. Let me start this kindness cycle with this nugget of encouragement: I think that everyone struggling right now should know that you are not alone. We are with you. It’s difficult to wake up every day thinking how we have to face it all alone. Please do not feel guilty of taking a break from your studies. Please do not feel embarrassed to talk about how you feel to your friends or family. Please don’t go through it by yourself. There are people around you who care for you, and I pray that you find them.
(This article is an anonymous contribution. Edited by the Humans of Medicine Editorial Team.)
Humans of Medicine is a new initiative under MMI. We tell inspiring stories behind portrait shots of our everyday unsung heroes. Curated by Malaysian medical students from home and abroad.
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