No One Is Supporting the Doctors
I have ceased to expect appropriate help from administrators, institutions, and the government itself.
I trained for this moment. All emergency-medicine physicians did. Residency —the notorious gantlet that turns medical students into attending physicians—prepared me to manage an onslaught of patients entirely on my own. I may be ready, but that doesn’t mean the situation I’m in is right.
At Bellevue Hospital, where I trained, New York’s most disenfranchised patients come through the doors at every hour of the day. While my attendings taught me to diagnose appendicitis, ectopic pregnancy, and multiple sclerosis, they also watched me fail. They watched me struggle to keep up with the pace of the department, to remain calm when patients would mock my race or sexual orientation, to cope with my own emotional reaction to the destitution,
