All posts save one are archived. Post-pandemic, nothing has changed for Pediatrics in over 30 years.
Monday, May 08, 2023
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Why Pediatrics
Note: This post has been edited, and most of the preamble deleted/archived. It was written in response to the request of a younger family member for advice about getting into (and funding) medical school.
He decided (wisely) to do something else with his life. And his "Cousin Mary" could not be happier for him.
I thought it best to leave the post up - as it's been online so long, I do not want anyone claiming the following as their own - in the cut-throat business of applying to medical school/residency.
Dr. Johnson authored the following “personal statement” in 1991, before she applied for her Pediatric Residency Program (at Brenner's Children's Hospital - now Atrium Health - Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center). For a time, it was passed around as an example of excellent writing and what schools were looking for in a statement or purpose.
Dr. Johnson authored the following “personal statement” in 1991, before she applied for her Pediatric Residency Program (at Brenner's Children's Hospital - now Atrium Health - Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center). For a time, it was passed around as an example of excellent writing and what schools were looking for in a statement or purpose.
While her experience in Asheboro (and elsewhere) has left her considerably more world-weary than she ever dreamed possible when she wrote this, the sentiment and hope still stand:
Three and one-half years ago, when I began medical school, the last medical specialty on my list of possibilities to consider was Pediatrics. As the daughter of a first grade teacher, catching brief, mostly after-hours glimpses of her life in the classroom, I had been witness to many of the pitfalls of that profession without experiencing any of its joys. I marveled at my mother’s tolerance and dedication, yet at the same time, it was crystal clear to me that dealing with children on a daily basis did not pay.
As I have a soft spot in my heart for the underdogs of this world, from mistreated animals to North Carolina State University basketball players, I focused my attention on Obstetrics. It was the fourth specialty on my list of fields catering to the “medically disadvantaged” - namely the mentally ill, children, the aged, and women. However, in the delivery room, the “miracle of birth” (the “procedure” for which I was so psyched-up) paled in comparison to its end result - the child - the reason for all the commotion in the first place.
Now while I am an idealist, I cannot sign on the humanist’s dotted line. The reason this world can be such a cruel place has much to do with the people in it, and life is not fair. Children, it seems to me, are the greatest social, medical and legal disadvantage in this or nearly any other society simply because they depend so totally on others to care and to speak for them. Being one of those people upon whom they can depend seems like a most worthwhile and challenging way to spend a life - my life.
The “mantle” of the M.D. degree carries with it much responsibility - not only to my patients (and their parents), but to the community as a whole. I hope to be an active voice in my little corner of the world (wherever that turns out to be), not only for children, but for any cause I believe in. Physicians are in a unique position to persuade and educate, and it is a position I intend to use. I cannot just sit back and watch the world go by. But in this role as a teacher, I shall never forget that I can learn just as much from my patients and students as they can from me. And balance is important, my professional and other responsibilities will not so engulf my private life that I neglect my family or personal interests and pursuits.
I learned a great deal last year. I discovered (to my delight) that babies in the Newborn and Special Care Nurseries were not so fragile that they would break when touched. I found that I could conceal my anger as I interviewed a parent who had almost certainly abused her little girl. I learned how to quietly absorb a father’s desperation and rage as he fought to come to terms with the fact that his son had failed a bone-marrow transplant and would die. I did my best to comfort a pair of nearly perfect parents after they delivered an anencephalic child. Meanwhile just down the hall two addicts who had just produced a perfect baby (when they’d probably have difficulty properly caring for a pet) taught me how to vent my frustration into constructive help for that baby and that family. Yet even after the most dreadful day, it was amazing how easily a child’s smile could make the world right again, if only for a little while.
Robert F. Kennedy was right twenty-four years ago when he said that the future is made by each of us working to change a small portion of events for the better. Pediatrics is about the future and the difference I can make - one child at a time.
Pediatrics does pay. It will pay. Mother’s aforementioned tolerance and dedication are not all at mysterious to me now. And although my procedure-oriented friends in Obstetrics and Surgery will no doubt reap several times the monetary reward than I, they can go tie square knots. Walking on water is not such a big deal when you can play in the pool with the kids.
Three and one-half years ago, when I began medical school, the last medical specialty on my list of possibilities to consider was Pediatrics. As the daughter of a first grade teacher, catching brief, mostly after-hours glimpses of her life in the classroom, I had been witness to many of the pitfalls of that profession without experiencing any of its joys. I marveled at my mother’s tolerance and dedication, yet at the same time, it was crystal clear to me that dealing with children on a daily basis did not pay.
As I have a soft spot in my heart for the underdogs of this world, from mistreated animals to North Carolina State University basketball players, I focused my attention on Obstetrics. It was the fourth specialty on my list of fields catering to the “medically disadvantaged” - namely the mentally ill, children, the aged, and women. However, in the delivery room, the “miracle of birth” (the “procedure” for which I was so psyched-up) paled in comparison to its end result - the child - the reason for all the commotion in the first place.
Now while I am an idealist, I cannot sign on the humanist’s dotted line. The reason this world can be such a cruel place has much to do with the people in it, and life is not fair. Children, it seems to me, are the greatest social, medical and legal disadvantage in this or nearly any other society simply because they depend so totally on others to care and to speak for them. Being one of those people upon whom they can depend seems like a most worthwhile and challenging way to spend a life - my life.
The “mantle” of the M.D. degree carries with it much responsibility - not only to my patients (and their parents), but to the community as a whole. I hope to be an active voice in my little corner of the world (wherever that turns out to be), not only for children, but for any cause I believe in. Physicians are in a unique position to persuade and educate, and it is a position I intend to use. I cannot just sit back and watch the world go by. But in this role as a teacher, I shall never forget that I can learn just as much from my patients and students as they can from me. And balance is important, my professional and other responsibilities will not so engulf my private life that I neglect my family or personal interests and pursuits.
I learned a great deal last year. I discovered (to my delight) that babies in the Newborn and Special Care Nurseries were not so fragile that they would break when touched. I found that I could conceal my anger as I interviewed a parent who had almost certainly abused her little girl. I learned how to quietly absorb a father’s desperation and rage as he fought to come to terms with the fact that his son had failed a bone-marrow transplant and would die. I did my best to comfort a pair of nearly perfect parents after they delivered an anencephalic child. Meanwhile just down the hall two addicts who had just produced a perfect baby (when they’d probably have difficulty properly caring for a pet) taught me how to vent my frustration into constructive help for that baby and that family. Yet even after the most dreadful day, it was amazing how easily a child’s smile could make the world right again, if only for a little while.
Robert F. Kennedy was right twenty-four years ago when he said that the future is made by each of us working to change a small portion of events for the better. Pediatrics is about the future and the difference I can make - one child at a time.
Pediatrics does pay. It will pay. Mother’s aforementioned tolerance and dedication are not all at mysterious to me now. And although my procedure-oriented friends in Obstetrics and Surgery will no doubt reap several times the monetary reward than I, they can go tie square knots. Walking on water is not such a big deal when you can play in the pool with the kids.
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