Jason Gencher is a medical student in the Class of 2018 at the University of Toronto
Today is the day. I have waited six months for today. I’m so tired, I can barely get myself out of bed. What time is it? I’m so hungry. Those Timbits look old, but I’m too hungry to care about that. I’m so tired — maybe I’ll go back to sleep? Don’t I have something to do today? Why is there this weird taste in my mouth? What she’s saying is all lies. There’s no truth in it all. They say things about me, but it’s all a big lie. One giant lie. When did I get this fat? It’s because of the medication. I used to be slim and athletic. But now I have circulation problems. It’s the medications they give me. ...continue reading
Mei Wen is a medical student in the Class of 2019 at the University of Toronto
Last week, I was at the eye clinic at a downtown hospital as a medical student learning about ophthalmology. This week, I was there as a patient. And although I was at the exact same clinic only one week later, the contrast between these experiences couldn't be greater.
My first astounding realization as a patient was that there was a sign advertising the wait time to be one to four hours — despite the fact that this was a booked appointment. I am ashamed to say that as a medical student on the the other side, ...continue reading
Class of 2016
It was an ordinary Wednesday in clerkship. Handover went smoothly, and postpartum rounds were going well. New moms on the ward were happy and healthy. Aside from the fact that CaRMS applications were opening at noon, it seemed like just another day in the life of a clinical clerk. If you squelched the nervous excitement induced by CaRMS opening (were we really going to be residents so soon?), everything was great. Blood pressures on the ward, other than ours, were pristine.
I started to experience a cramping flank pain by midmorning. Really, it had started the Monday before, but I’d chalked it up to exhaustion from a long night on call. Or maybe some weird peri-menstruation cramps, even though the timing was off.
I fidgeted in my chair as I scribbled away at SOAP notes. Just make it through the morning, I thought. Ibuprofen was waiting in my brilliant orange bag downstairs in the resident room.
The cramps persisted.