Navigating Medical School During COVID-19

By Sandra Folarin

Seven months ago, amidst the panic-buying, confusion, and mass uncertainty surrounding the onset Covid-19, I never would have predicted that I would be starting medical school virtually in the middle of a global pandemic. Although I knew a shutdown was impending, I was naively hopeful that we would begin our return to normal after two short weeks, which at the time felt like an eternity. However, temporary stay-at-home orders soon morphed into months of restrictions, keeping all of us from family, friends, and summer activities. The pandemic has changed healthcare the most , particularly the institutions responsible for educating the next generation of physicians and healthcare workers, who were dutifully risking their lives daily on the frontlines. I was slated to start my training to be one of those doctors in the fall of 2020, but soon medical schools across the country began to announce their plans for virtual and hybrid learning as the SARS-Cov-2 virus raged on throughout the United States. We as students understood that this decision was necessary, not only for our safety, but for the safety of patients and our fellow citizens. However, there were certainly mixed feelings about the potential to start school online. What would happen to our white coat ceremony? How would we forge bonds with our classmates? How would we manage Zoom fatigue while steamrolling through lectures and long meetings? How would we effectively learn hands-on courses like doctoring and anatomy, which have historically been the cornerstones of  medical education?

Now three  months into medical school and already nearing my second exam, I conclude  that, like many other aspects of medicine, managing these concerns has required a lot of adaptability and flexibility. The convenience of online coursework has made it easy to cut commute times and attend lectures from the comfort of my couch or prepare lunch to curb my  mid-day hunger. However, although a virtual curriculum has awarded me greater flexibility in my schedule, spending too much time at home can easily make me feel isolated and interrupt my sense of community. My classmates and I have responded to these feelings by intentionally working to  create meaningful connections with each other. Groupchats abound with artistic, student-made study guides, advice, and reminders about pertinent deadlines. Many of us have created social opportunities to meet in person or commiserate online about the challenges of medical school. Instead of physically shouting “Good luck!” to each other before heading into the exam, we shoot off quick texts with well wishes to friends and classmates before logging into our online block assessments. What was once thought to be a threat to our social outlets and sense of community has instead strengthened our desire to become an ironclad support system for each other during the grueling training that lies ahead.

However, while I have become more flexible around the social barriers of Covid-19, I have found it more challenging to manage my unique position as a Black medical student facing  the concurrent racial injustice that abounds, both in healthcare and society at large. Throughout the year, I watched COVID-19 bring the longstanding issue of health disparities and structural racism to the nation’s forefront, as fellow Black citizens suffered COVID-related deaths or complications at disproportionately higher rates than non-Black Americans. The murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd and so many others created even deeper wounds, to the point where I soon found myself fatigued and weary about the seemingly insurmountable racial differences that plagued this country and my respective community. In an attempt to shield myself from the trauma and protect my mental health, I quickly scrolled past painful images and videos on social media. Instead, I looked for ways to channel my frustration and experiences as a medical student into meaningful avenues that could directly address health disparities and racism as a public health crisis. I have found solace in connecting with other like-minded physicians and students, volunteering in my community, and delivering health education and advocacy tools to empower the health of individuals, especially those in the Black community and other marginalized groups who are too often left on the sidelines. And although I have allowed myself to cry, feel my emotions, and step back when the workload of medical school and the reality of the world today can be too much to bear, I have also prioritized self-care now more than ever. Baking, writing, podcasts, and practicing the guitar are my creative and therapeutic outlets, as well as components of my personal arsenal against feelings of exhaustion during these strange times.

Although I had never envisioned this unique start to medical school,the circumstances have only served as a valuable lesson about the importance of resilience, adaptability, self-care, and community, all principles that are and will continue to be integral on this journey through medicine. As I slowly work toward the end of my first semester and our eventual return to campus in January, I hope to continue to find moments of joy and connection with classmates in this unusual time, in spite of any virtual barriers that COVID-19 has placed on us.

And most importantly, I look forward to using my unique position as a medical student and future physician to continue to fight against the societal structures and systems that perpetuate racism and health inequity.