One Week

One week ago Tuesday, with the rationale of an abundance of caution, our Match Day ceremony was cancelled. This past Tuesday, the day after we were notified whether we Matched, I picked up celebratory cookies from my grandmother. She waved to me through the glass of her back door, I shouted my thanks and love back through the glass, and picked up the cookie package she’d left on the front porch. I didn’t hug her, I didn’t kiss her. I told her I was waiting to find out exactly where I was heading, I told her that my future as a physician was technically secured, and I stood on the other side of the glass the entire time.

Within one week, abundance of caution became a harsh reality. 

I’ve joked in the past that my Mom-Mom loves forcefully; she’ll wrap her hands around the sides of your face, pull you into her, and place loud, smacking kisses on your cheeks. The absence of that, on one of the proudest days of my life, echoed through me. I cried the entire drive home with the porch-left cookies in the passenger seat. 

That feeling of emptiness has driven a lot of reflection over the last 24 hours. This week, Match Week, is the crowning achievement of medical school. This week, fourth year students throughout the country find out where they’ve been placed for a residency training position in their chosen specialty. And this week, Europe became the epicenter of the coronavirus, countries began closing borders, and the governor of my state closed schools, malls, movie theatres, bars, and in-person dining in an attempt to mitigate the spread of this virus. 

It’s been a week of overwhelming emotions and uncertainty. At times, I’ve felt incredibly selfish and living in my sadness and disappointment at the loss of the traditional rites of passage signaling the end of medical school. I’ve felt incredibly guilty for thinking of losing my individual recognition in a profession built on altruism. I’ve felt incredibly thankful as the medical school governing body, the Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC), cancelled all clinical experiences for a few weeks to give us protection. I’ve felt incredibly helpless that I have all the knowledge of a student two months shy of graduation and I’m sitting on my couch while my community battles the virus. 

It’s been a week of stark reminders that I’m flawed. That we’re all flawed. But it’s also been a reminder of why medicine is often referred to as a calling:  the willingness to run towards the public health emergency of our time and isolate myself from my family to treat others’ families. Just as the thousands of other medical students getting their Match results this week would do.

I don’t know what happens next. I don’t have any specific education in public health. I can’t tell you the rules of battling a pandemic beyond what little I’ve learned in the last couple weeks. But I will continue to read, learn, and educate myself on the best ways to take care of you and yours. I will take the opportunity to rest and rebuild the stamina needed for residency. And once I get my marching orders this Friday, I’ll be ready. I’ll be ready alongside my classmates entering emergency medicine, surgery, pediatrics, obstetrics, and scores of other specialities with the passion of building up your health and wellness. And I hope you all will continue to follow along with the journey of a physician matched into a pandemic who’s learning where we go from here. 

Let’s get to work.