What Will Happen Next?

Emma Beason, M2, Class of 2026

“What will happen next?”
A question filled with despair.
Imprinting its cruelty, spreading its ashes,
The dream of a future being left behind.

Taking in the two trembling parents
Tired eyes, soft voices, accepting defeat,
Staring down at the two young souls.
One will make it, one will not,
The only sound a muffled weep.

“What will happen next?”
Four words echoing in my mind.
The words I offer cannot relieve
The suffering laid before me.

Nothing could have stopped
This brutal twist of fate
In this field of wonder and miracles,
There are times we cannot escape.

The Sound of Healing

Jonathon Liu, MS3, Class of 2025

Throughout my clerkships, I have encountered many patients, each teaching me valuable lessons about disease processes, pharmacology, and the underlying science of medicine. However, beyond the technical knowledge, it is the patient interactions that I cherish deeply. My experiences have also underscored the importance of bedside manners and the establishment of a strong rapport with patients. The art of delivering compassionate, patient-centered care is fundamental, enabling physicians to truly connect with their patients, understand their experiences, and facilitate more effective healing. Humanism is, indeed, a quintessential element in medicine. During my Internal Medicine Clerkship, I had an encounter that brought this abstract lesson to life—fundamentally shaping my approach to medicine.

In the ICU, I met a patient grappling with unstable atrial fibrillation and a host of cardiovascular complications as a direct result of poorly managed type 2 diabetes mellitus. Yet, his physical ailments barely scratched the surface of his suffering. Initially, I entered his room to gather his medical history using the comprehensive approach taught at my home institution—covering chief complaints, medical history, family history, social history, and more while simultaneously being expected to efficiently collect and report the necessary information to our medical team. However, our conversations soon unveiled a narrative steeped in frustration, anxiety, and a profound sense of abandonment. He shared his long struggle with type 2 diabetes mellitus and the daunting side effects of metformin that had overwhelmed him—nausea, vomiting, bloating, and a repulsive metallic taste. When he sought help, his concerns were dismissed, leading him to resort to unproven supplements. His condition deteriorated, necessitating insulin, which he avoided due to fear of experiencing similar or worse side effects.

Recognizing the depth of his disillusionment, I made a commitment as his student doctor to work to unpack his fears and concerns. I promised my patient that I would advocate for him to my medical team. Day by day, beside his bed, our conversations blossomed beyond healthcare, touching upon his life, fears, hopes, and dreams. I learned of his service as a war veteran, his passion for exploring local restaurants, his and his wife’s adventurous spirits, and his profound kindness and love for his family. Our conversations became something we both looked forward to daily. These moments of shared humanity reminded me of the significant impact empathy and active listening can have on kindling a relationship with my patient.

Together, we navigated his health fears, exploring alternative treatments while his concerns and preferences were at the forefront of all decision-making processes. This patient-centric approach reignited his motivation to manage his diabetes, marking a pivotal shift in his treatment journey. By forming a strong bond through daily interactions, I became a more effective advocate for him, amplifying his voice, supporting him through his improvements, managing side effects, and navigating setbacks.

This experience reinforced a fundamental truth: healing transcends the physical aspects. Medicine demands humanity, which can only be achieved through nurturing strong, trusting relationships with patients. When we take the time to genuinely connect with our patients, listening intently and empathizing deeply, we can significantly transform the quality of their healthcare. At the heart of medicine lies this simple, profound principle: to care for another is to see them, hear them, and stand with them in their moments of vulnerability. This encounter has indelibly shaped my understanding of what it means to heal, reminding me that the core of humanism in healthcare is the profound connection between a doctor and their patient.

Diamonds in the Rough: Working as a Track Coach at an Inner-City High School while in Medical School

Diamonds in the Rough: Working as a Track Coach at an Inner-City High School while in Medical School

Liam Lynch, M2, Class of 2026

“Going to track practice every day was my escape from the monotony of medical school.
Going to track practice was their escape from things much worse.”

If you’ve met me, you know that running has been and will always be one of the most
pivotal parts of my life. It’s the reason I went to college, the reason for my drive and fortitude in
life, and an integral part of my daily routine. My yearly vacations center around where I’ll be
racing next and even my med school research revolves around running. In short, running is
intimate and intertwined with who I am.


Thus to me, nothing would be more worthwhile than giving back to the sport that has
gotten me to where I am today: Track & Field. We’ve all heard that volunteering in medical
school is one of the most crucial extracurriculars. Residencies will want to see a physician who
cares about their community and someone who gives without expecting anything in return. The
conclusion seemed natural; I was going to volunteer as an assistant track coach somewhere.


I reached out to many nearby Kansas City high schools: Shawnee Mission East, North,
and Bishop Meige. Bluntly put, these were the rich schools; they had the infrastructure and
funding to allow me to volunteer on a come-and-go basis. They didn’t need me at these rich
suburban schools but would take me and let me pad my resume.


Wyandotte was different though. Despite the strong, caring, and capable leaders I
encountered, decades of gentrification, rezoning, and defunding had led to its steady decline.
According to U.S. News & World Report, Wyandotte High School consistently ranks in the
bottom 20th percentile in all metrics for Kansas, ranking in the 2%, 3%, and 7% in math,
reading, and science proficiency, respectively. Freshmen make up 42% of their enrollment while
graduating seniors make up only 15%. The total minority enrollment is 98%, and 90% of
students are economically disadvantaged. Suffice to say, this school was very different from the
ones I grew up with and the other schools I was looking to volunteer at.


Wyandotte’s process was different, too. Head Coach Richie Bryant invited me for an
interview, which was something none of the other schools asked for. I figured that being an ex-
collegiate athlete turned medical student was qualification enough to volunteer—all the other
schools thought so too—but I agreed to an interview nonetheless. At the very least, it would
make my decision of where to volunteer easier.


I arrived at Wyandotte, passing the police officers and metal detectors stationed at the
entrance; it was already a stark difference from my own high school days. We went through
hallways displaying the trophies and banners of the school’s glory days that only those old
historic schools have. Then, after meeting Coach Keegan and Mr. Black, we sat down in the
bleachers of their basketball gym.

Continue reading “Diamonds in the Rough: Working as a Track Coach at an Inner-City High School while in Medical School”

I bear witness to heart failure

Saniya Ahmed, M1, Class of 2027

 

Definitions for non-Muslim audiences: 

Shahada – the declaration of faith in the Islamic tradition, “I bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is His Messenger.” This is one of the five pillars of Islam. We recite this statement often but hope that it rolls off our tongues in our time of death so we may die with this declaration of faith.

Ummah – the global Muslim community, bound together by religion. Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, described the Ummah in this way: “The parable of the believers in their affection, mercy, and compassion for each other is that of a body. When any limb aches, the whole body reacts with sleeplessness and fever.” (Source: Sahih Al Bukhari 6011, Sahih Muslim 2586)

Author’s Note:

Saniya Ruqiah Ahmed began her poetry journey as a spoken word and slam poet in the realm of social justice advocacy. For nearly a decade, her art has been kept within the ears of her audience, and she is now aiming to bring her work to paper. Her poetry centers on themes like family, faith, social justice, and Muslim and Indian diaspora. Now as a medical student, her poetry has shifted to also encompass humanity and dignity in health and healthcare.

Spes aeternum oritur

Spes aeternum oritur

Brian London, M1, Class of 2027

 

Growing up next to the sea, almost everyone had heard the phrase, “red sky at night – sailor’s delight; red sky in the morning, sailors take warning”. In Spes Aeternum Oritur, Hope Springs Eternal, a crimson-red sky reveals itself as the news of death, famine, war, and conquest in my homelands spreads across the seas. The waves cresting over as they come to the observer through a grey haze show the fear that comes from the unknowns of human strife. Looking above the horizon, the ghost of a rose – a universal image of love and peace – drips with golden ichor, a gift of the gods promising materialization of the hope, ever present, that humankind will stop destroying each other, that we will again re-value the oath to which all physicians bear credence: beneficence, justice, and autonomy. Until all of Earth’s peoples are free, none of us can be free. Digital oil-on-canvas; submitted as complete as a sketch piece for a physical production CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

Geometric Cow

Geometric Cow

Regan Konz, M1, Class of 2027

 

This is one of my first ceramics projects and was done using a slab technique to make the form and masking to paint the surface. Spending time with ceramics was an outlet for me to de-stress during a busy senior semester and medical school interview season and I, of course, had to create a piece involving a cow which is my favorite animal. This guy truly brings me joy and is probably my favorite thing I have made despite his imperfections from me being completely new to the hobby.

A 24 y/o F

A 24 y/o F

Angela Gutierrez, M2, Class of 2026

I envision this as the captivating genesis of any HPI, or like the opening scene of a

standard case presentation, or when preparing ourselves for the narrative of a vignette leading to

a thought-provoking question. Fictional patients based on real people. However, unlike these

fictional patients, this is real. This is mine.

Continue reading “A 24 y/o F”