In Between Futures – In My (Our) Hands

“Sorry I was late. I took a nap and then was engrossed in my book and lost track of time,”

I tell my friend at Afrobeats dance practice.

“Love that for you,” she replies.

I loved that for me too. After years of a very busy schedule, lots of clinical responsibilities, and processing the emotional highs and lows of being in medicine, it is refreshing to pause. To breathe. To rediscover my love of reading and full REM cycles.

I didn’t tell her what my brain was doing the other several hours of day: Dreaming of possible futures, like the movie Sliding Doors. I could be at this [residency program] in this [city] and serve this [patient population]. I can pursue these [educational opportunities] and have these [mentors] and [co-residents]. My brain replaces every noun with a slightly different flavor. The blessing of it all is that I would be happy in many possible futures. The difficult part is giving myself grace when I sometimes feel overwhelmed with anticipation and uncertainty.

Before interviews, I pray. I sit in my slightly lopsided desk chair, clip on my ring light, scoop my multi-colored slinky toy between my hands a few times, and re-adjust my gold necklace with a mini “T,” before taking a deep breath. As I breathe passion and joy into the words on my application, my hands become a steady, yet delicate force shaping my future. I feel like a master potter, blending creativity with purpose.

As I focus on my own future, I think about the future of the healthcare system. An entity that too requires delicate, intentional shaping. After all, it is a much larger, complex, fragmented, expensive piece of clay that hundreds of millions of people count on – for answers, for guidance, for prevention of illness, for healing.

Sometimes I envision the hands doing the shaping curled into a gnarly, unrecognizable form. There are threats to access to healthcare regardless of one’s background or ability to pay. There are rules regarding the if, when, and how someone would like to expand their family. As a future doctor about to start during a major transition in our country, I feel a stronger resolve in shaping not only my future but the future of my patients.

I am often in awe of the minds behind the hands that shape healthcare and the complex challenges they choose to tackle. I especially care about challenges Black patients face – a population often marginalized in the healthcare system and whose pain and experiences are often dismissed. Over 100,000 people in the United States, most of them Black, have Sickle Cell Disease, a condition with debilitating pain crises. I was emotional to hear about the first patient in the U.S. to receive gene therapy for Sickle Cell Disease approved by the FDA in 2023. A 12-year-old boy named Kendric Cromer from Washington, D.C who dreams of being a geneticist. I thought of my grandmother who is also a geneticist and advocate for people in Nigeria living with Sickle Cell Disease.

This is a major victory for Kendric and people who see scientific breakthroughs in their personal illness. The same scientists who fervently developed this ground-breaking treatment I hope will have matched determination to make it accessible. The reality is that it is currently $3.1 million dollars, and the complexity of the treatment is presenting logistical challenges for hospitals. I am wishing the best for Kendric in his treatment and for the thousands of future patients I hope can receive this treatment.1

Just as I allocate time preparing for interviews, reading about programs, and speaking to residents, people allocate resources toward what they value. The type and quality of healthcare accessible to people depend on our country’s values. Should our healthcare system provide high-quality, culturally competent care to everyone? Should it be equitable? Should we invest in efforts to improve diversity, equity, and inclusion so our workforce mirrors our country’s population? In between grappling with these big questions (my answer is yes to all the above), I focus on what feels more in my control.

I focus on my desire for continuous self-improvement. To learn more about my patients’ complex conditions and new advancements in the field. To learn about local and national policies that may affect their care. To grow my capacity for active listening, empathy, and resilience, skills that apply inside and outside the hospital. When life becomes challenging – because life does not stop because I am in medical school – I could always use some extra resilience.

Being in healthcare has greatly deepened my gratitude for my own health and that of loved ones.

It has brought frustration when social determinants of health, such as poor access to primary care, results in repeated emergency care for exacerbations of chronic disease. Frustration when a patient’s scan from an outside hospital is unable to be uploaded into our system which delays management and leaves them with more questions at the end of the visit. Frustration when a follow-up visit is necessary because the lab is closed. We have come so far in healthcare, yet hiccups with technology and scheduling still perplex me.

Sometimes I find myself in a constant state of perplexity. I want to address everything from the administrative to the life-threatening issues patients face because I care. That’s one of the main reasons I chose to become a doctor: to problem solve but also envelop others in comforting words and presence as they heal. It feels amazing when we can do these things, and disheartening when we cannot. Caring for others requires rest. Thinking deeply also requires a time-out. Sometimes my brain feels like my old MacBook heating up, ready to keep me warm during this unusual winter.

Rest is important. I am gearing up for a career of advocacy, especially for our most vulnerable populations in our country. Fourth year of medical school is just what the doctor ordered; A time to let my mind run wild with all the possibilities of where future Dr. Adeyemi will be planted for at least the next three years. Where she will grow skills with a determination to bear fruit and serve all patients regardless of their background. I may not have all the answers for my own life or for the complexities of the healthcare system, but by leading with compassion and a mission for an equitable future, I can at least see my next step. More importantly, I have this precious time to rest and stay grounded in my “why” while I get my footing.

Love that for me.

1 Kolata, G (2024). First Patient Begins Newly Approved Sickle Cell Gene Therapy. New York Times.

Description of Piece

During her residency interview season, she has embraced her newfound abundance of time by pursuing hobbies, quality time with friends and family, travel, and sleep. This period has also been marked by deep reflection on what is most important to her future career and the health system in which she will practice. Reflection can be exhausting but is necessary to illuminate the path forward. The author encourages her peers to lean into this time of discovery with curiosity and joy, while staying grounded in their own values.