One of the biggest challenges for me along the trajectory of becoming a doctor is handling death. I respect the passing of people and am generally “occupationally desensitised” to a corpse, but what I find more difficult than anything is talking to relatives who have just watched their loved ones pass. What do you say to someone who is stunned by the passing of their husband, wife or child? We all have the clinical skills lessons in our first years of med school, practising the delivery of bad news with actors, getting a good grade and thinking we nailed it. … Delivering bad news… Check.

During my first year of med school we had to do a two week nursing internship and work solely with nurses to get a better insight into what being a nurse really entails. My nursing internship was on an oncology ward, specialising in leukemia. On my first day I walked in and saw someone being wheeled out in a body bag. Two hours later, someone was taken off life support and I watched as the grieving family said their goodbyes. A pure, sombre emotion spread throughout the ward and I froze as one of the family members approached me. I choked, didn’t know what to say and to my relief a nurse came up and talked to the man. I felt embarrassed, how was I supposed to become a good doctor like this?

One of the tasks we had was to conduct an interview with a patient on the ward about their illness. Immediately I thought of one man who was admitted the same day I started. We had a good connection from the start. I asked him if I could do the interview with him and he kindly obliged. He got a persistent cold about three weeks ago, which didn’t seem to go away until he was eventually diagnosed with leukemia. Emotions were still raw and plump tears were rolling down his cheeks. He still couldn’t really fathom what had happened to him. The realisation that he was living with a potential ticking time bomb in him was something I had never seen before. Just as he was getting more emotional, I could feel my anxiety nibbling away at my confidence until our eyes met. All of a sudden the most warm and calm feeling came over me and it was clear. I didn’t have to say anything. The fact that I was there listening to him and offering him the opportunity to just talk and reflect on what he was going through was the best medicine for him at that time. In the end he was the one that thanked me for listening to him. It was a turning point for me. My fear of confronting death stems from the fact that I’m scared of saying the wrong thing. Sometimes, all you really need to do is just be there and listen; as a doctor, as a nurse, as a student… as a person.

I’m a 6th year medical student studying at the University of Utrecht, the Netherlands. I’m a late bloomer into the medical world but have come to incredibly love and appreciate this profession. I haven’t found my precise calling yet but I’m enjoying paediatrics the most so far.