You Are Needed

This holiday weekend, I had the gift of having a three-day weekend, and, to be honest, I am so grateful. I was able to rest- physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I also caught up on a lot of Netflix episodes of my latest favorite show, had much needed sleep, was able to recover from a cold, and had the opportunity to re-set. I was even bold enough to plan for board studying, but I will save the latter for a later time.

An older version of me would have not been as open to this rest. Instead, I would perseverate on what needed to be done- laundry, cooking, logging patients, studying for boards, peer reviews, and whatever I managed to pile on my to-do list. I would feel guilty about not being as “productive” as someone else probably expected me to be. I would wonder what colleagues were doing and guilt myself into doing something so I would not be viewed as the lazy resident- coming out of this rare three-day weekend feeling drained before the work week even began.

There are still whispers of those thoughts within me, but I have more control over how those thoughts and emotions influence my behaviors. In fact, I was able to sit still long enough to realize something I wanted to share with you- black doctors/healthcare providers are needed.

You are needed.

I reflect on moments I spoke with black patients and remember their sense of relief, statements of “congratulations”, or emulations of pride all reinforcing an appreciation for being attended to by someone who looks like them. Each encounter was a truly a humbling experiencing which also served as an important reminder. Even before I took time to really reflect on it, part of me understood, to some extent, how essential it was for black patients to both know and feel represented. It didn’t really hit home for me until recently, specifically this past weekend, when I was reflecting on my own health.

Who would I trust with my health? Who would I want to see for my annual visits? Who would I turn to?

Being privy to what goes on behind the curtains makes me that much more vigilant about not just my health, but the health of those I care about including the patients I encounter. I encourage them to ask questions, leaving no stone unturned. I encourage them to advocate for family and to speak about their concerns- no matter how small. I am passionate about teaching what health means- from healthy food choices and exercise to how we manage stress and the importance of a community- and do what I can behind the scenes to create more access for the things they need for one reason- to combat health disparities faced by the black community.

So, again, allow me to repeat- you are needed.

Black nurses, doctors, nurse practitioners, physician assistants, technicians, scribes, nurse aides…you are all needed to see those patients who are repeatedly told they are not worth being seen. We need you to teach, advocate for, and empower patients who have not nor fully understand elements of health literacy. You are needed to bring awareness to how systemic oppression- from microaggressions to bold horrific crimes- have had an indelible influence in the health of black people all over the world.

Our patients need a familiar face; they need someone who simply gets it without them having to over-explain or prove that what they are experiencing is real. Our patients need to know there is someone they can trust to take them seriously in the face of individuals convinced that their pain threshold is lower and that they are dramatizing their symptoms. The need someone who looks like them to reassure that they are not unknowingly succumbing to a modern version of “Tuskegee” every time they walk into a medical space or need medical attention.

They need a face of someone who reminds them of a girlfriend, a son, or a familiar friend as their dementia takes a turn for the worse and they are being prescribed medications for them to appear more socially acceptable.

They need an ear of someone who will limit judgement as they are recovering from substance use, being abandoned by everyone with whom they’ve burned bridges with when a post-surgical management for pain turned into a life-long curse.

They need to know that someone will look at them as someone’s child, rather than another potential gang member, rapist, hoodlum, troublesome person…and see a human in need of the medical attention.

I could go on and one of the different faces, walks of life, beliefs, mistakes, and journey of each black patient that exists today…but for the sake of not belaboring the point, here is where I want to drive it home.

They need you. We need you. I need you.

And we need each other. When I have been at my lowest, it was the encouraging word from a faculty member, a medical student, a colleague, a friend who understood and saw me as me.

Medicine is a tough world, much needed, yet a challenge on the easiest of days- and we need you.

The question now is, are you willing?