Jessica Hoy, MD
Resident in Medicine at BWH
PGY 2
As I drove from the airport several hours along a long dark road to the Indian Health Services in Shiprock, New Mexico, I found my mind wandering to the last leap of faith I took nine years before. I was a new college graduate. Friends were starting their consulting or investment jobs or graduate school pursuits. I was traveling in the front seat of an Egypt Airways truck without a seat belt in the early hours of morning to the Nairobi Airport for my puddle-jumper to Kisumu, then on to a small town in Western Kenya where I was about to spend a year. I had the great fortune of winning a grant during college for a year of purposeful travel, where I was to discover myself and find my way after years of clear direction and advancement during boarding school and college. I found my first weeks in my small village to be painfully chaotic; for the first time in my life I lacked a sense of purpose or a set of skills to develop. I spent my time working at a local health center. Skill-less in the medical realm, I was an extra pair of hands in the small cinder block building that served as an outpost of medical care for the community of mud huts that sprawled through the dusty red hills under a never ending sky.
Resident in Medicine at BWH
PGY 2
As I drove from the airport several hours along a long dark road to the Indian Health Services in Shiprock, New Mexico, I found my mind wandering to the last leap of faith I took nine years before. I was a new college graduate. Friends were starting their consulting or investment jobs or graduate school pursuits. I was traveling in the front seat of an Egypt Airways truck without a seat belt in the early hours of morning to the Nairobi Airport for my puddle-jumper to Kisumu, then on to a small town in Western Kenya where I was about to spend a year. I had the great fortune of winning a grant during college for a year of purposeful travel, where I was to discover myself and find my way after years of clear direction and advancement during boarding school and college. I found my first weeks in my small village to be painfully chaotic; for the first time in my life I lacked a sense of purpose or a set of skills to develop. I spent my time working at a local health center. Skill-less in the medical realm, I was an extra pair of hands in the small cinder block building that served as an outpost of medical care for the community of mud huts that sprawled through the dusty red hills under a never ending sky.
Sunset from the Hospital |
I felt a similar fear of the unknown as my rental car sped towards
Shiprock along the dark flat landscape that pulsed beyond my high beams. I was leaving the comfort and certainty of
residency, of early rising and the rhythm of rounding, of familiar faces of
attendings and common concerns of patients for a part of the country and a
patient population to which I had no knowledge or connections. The timing was not a mistake. I was leaving exactly in the middle of residency,
with 18 months behind and 18 months ahead, just as it was becoming acceptable
for attendings to ask where I would end up next year, guessing that I, as a
passionate defender of primary care, would be seeking a career rather than a
fellowship. But as that time approaches,
I have been feeling unease as I picture myself in my mentors’ shoes. Despite so many people that I love and admire
at the Brigham, I haven’t been certain about where I fit and where I will fit
when the thrilling adventure of residency ends and everyone moves on in their
set path. So here I am at the Indian
Health Services. The circumstances are different; I arrived in Kenya with no
skills and a desire to assert my independence; I arrived in Shiprock with the
tangible skills and personal touch of a soon-to-be primary care doctor, jumping
into a new medical record system, and appointments with patients with common
concerns, and early morning pre-rounding on sleeping patients who groggily
answer my time-honored questions. I am
working with doctors who have preserved the old traditions of primary
care—admitting and discharging their own patients from the hospital, attending
intensive care rounds every morning, sharing knowledge and community with each
other in this small outpost of health care, hours from any city, perched on a
plain with the most dynamic sunsets I’ve seen.
My days at Shiprock have been packed with the activity of
how primary care once was. In one day, I
go from ICU rounds where I’m caring for a newly diagnosed AIDS patient with
pulmonary, neurologic and gastrointestinal symptoms to an early morning Tumor
Board meeting where specialists from larger cities weigh in about the course of
treatment for our patients. I then start
clinic, where patient panels consist of about 400 patients each and appointment
lengths are flexible. At lunch I return
to the ICU to perform a lumbar puncture on my AIDS patient and then I spend the
afternoon helping in walk in clinic, caring for my hospitalized patients and
admitting any new patients. The rhythm
is satisfyingly diverse and challenging, allowing for the full cycle of care
for patients in a way I have not yet seen.
I chose to spend a year away after college because I was
afraid that in all of the specialization of my lab work and thesis and team
sports and club participation, I was missing something greater about myself and
my future. I worried that the set path
of graduate school would be connecting some pre-determined dots in a pattern
that I didn’t like. So I left all of the
comfort of the world that I knew for a mud hut without running water or
electricity. In contrast, I am not
roughing it here in Shiprock; I have the privilege of a sleek rental car and
comfortable dorm room and a cafeteria with vegetarian options, but the
perspective I have gained away from my current life as a fast paced resident in
a fast paced program is as immeasurably beneficial. In
taking the time away to pause, I have been able to further appreciate the
wealth of resources the Brigham provides, to find the words to my uncertainty, and to reflect on my values and how will they shape my future
career.
God bless Dr. USELU for his marvelous work in my life, I was diagnosed of HERPES SIMPLEX VIRUS since 2018 and I was taking my medications, I wasn't satisfied i needed to get the HERPES out of my system, I searched about some possible cure for HERPES i saw a comment about Dr. USELU , how he cured HERPES with his herbal medicine, I contacted him and he guided me. I asked for solutions, he started the remedy for my health, he sent me the medicine within 3 days. I took the medicine as prescribed by him and 2weeks later i was cured from HERPES contact him via email (dr.uselucaregiver@gmail.com) once again thanks to you Dr. USELU cure the flowing virus, contact his email or add him on whatsapp (+2349019328641) cancer cure
ReplyDeletediabetes cure
ringing ear
herpes cure
warts cure
HPV cure
HIV cure
get your ex back
pregnancy herbal medicine
Hepatitis