Amanda Gefroh

It’s spring–the ugliest, smelliest time of year in Grand Forks, North Dakota–but people are so happy to see the tiniest patch of grass and some real sunshine. My junior year of college is wrapping up and I have yet to spark the spirit. The truth is, I am lost. I want to be a doctor. I’m intrigued by the human body, the way it works, and the infinite factors that can affect it. When something amidst the complex scheme of physiology goes awry, I crave to be involved in its recuperation. The problem is that I have not one doctor in my entire extended family. Consequently, I have no idea what I’m doing. I needed experience–integrated, reputable experience. I joined a volunteer ambulance service, and within six months was certified as an EMT-Basic. One evening, quiet as they always are, the pager blared. “Patient complains of chest pain,” dispatch said. Chest pain is never anything short of scary. My partner and I hastened to the rig along with the county paramedic. We arrive to a perspiring, ashen man, his shoulders bent and heaving–a textbook heart attack. I stood in the ER, copying information for the standard report. My patient, now mostly stable, spoke with the physician. The man explained he had begun a new medication for his blood pressure and believed it may have triggered the acute MI. I thumbed through his long list of prescriptions before directing my attention back to their conversation. The doctor hummed and huhed, concluding he would write a new prescription. That’s it. No questions, no digging deeper, no options; just another pill to pop for this poor 57-year old. Maybe he deserved this; maybe McDonalds and truck stop breakfasts caught up with him. Maybe the only exercise he had ever gotten involved fetching the mail after work. Or maybe no one told him. Perhaps he is like most people in these great United States that have no more health knowledge than which diet CNN tells them is a crock. People are supposed to be able to rely on doctors to help them lead healthy lives, with preventive care as an imperative element. Back at the garage, I laid in the cot room staring at the underside of the bunk above me. I wondered if I would be happy in my life as a doctor. I found it to be a little more complicated than the standard career anxiety, because it wasn’t my path to healthcare I questioned. I enjoy every part of patient care. It was the acquired indifference of the modern day physician that I feared. I care. That’s what I do; that’s what I’m good at. But I’m afraid that one day I may be coerced into an empty shell of the values I hold now. On the other hand, I’m not so naïve as to be unaware of the complexity of patient care. There are situations when physicians do try but the patient won’t comply, or an alternative treatment may be too costly. There are times when ‘do no harm’ means to do nothing–a challenge for any doctor. However, I am convinced there is a balance to be found. This issue does not have a quick or easy answer–most of life’s important ones don’t–nor is any possible solution I could derive be anything close to a guarantee, but I wasn’t ready to give in to my bedtime worries. I was convinced there had to be others like me who valued human life and had a desire to guide others to complete health. I was determined not to settle for a life of uncertainty and moral dissonance. I found osteopathic medicine. The man we picked up on Veteran’s Day 2008 was not the most interesting call I’ve tended, but it drove me to expose these qualms. It was the call that turned my endeavors to medical school from ambiguity to discovery and apprehension to excitement. I am once more the bright-eyed optimist one hates to love. The experiences I’ve encountered through the years have brought me to this realm of introspective conviction that I maintain. From my great uncle’s code at a family picnic when I was thirteen years old, to helping my closest friend during an industrial accident, to supporting my mother through cancer last year, I’ve seen the resolve of the human spirit and its integral part in the healing process. In my time with Valley Ambulance I’ve lost a few patients, but I’ve brought one back too. For this I contend to be experienced enough to know that being a physician is what I want to pursue, but not so seasoned as to say I’ve got it nailed. With the continuing education of a medical institution, I have no doubt I'll get there.