Bryanna R.
Photo provided by Bryanna R.
If you’re reading this, be gentle with yourself.
I want to take a moment to share a bit about my journey with coping through medical school, not because I have all the answers, but because I have learned that sharing our stories can create connection, understanding, and maybe even a sense of peace for someone else who needs it.
My experience of coping has been one of learning and unlearning. In the early stages, I often felt overwhelmed, not just by the volume of material, but by the mental juggling act of trying to do everything at once. Over time, I realized that dividing my attention among too many things did not make me more efficient; it just made me more anxious. So, I learned the value of doing one thing at a time, sometimes the hard way. When I allowed myself to be present and focused, I found that I could move through tasks more calmly, and that feeling of accomplishment, no matter how small, became a powerful antidote to the chaos.
Part of my journey also involved an unexpected detour. I had always planned to take time off from school, but I never imagined I would spend that time building a family and navigating the harsh reality of healthcare during the COVID-19 pandemic. In mere months, I graduated from college, became a new mom, took on a full-time job at an understaffed private practice, and faced the same uncertainty that the world was holding its breath for. We were all waiting on guidance about a virus we knew little about, and yet life kept demanding action. That time taught me one of the most profound lessons of all: when life feels out of control, you have to show yourself grace. You have to pause, process the reality in front of you, and then, when you're ready, move forward with intention.
One lesson I hope others take from my journey is this: be gentle with yourself. In the push to become a competent, compassionate physician, it’s easy to forget that you’re human. But you are: someone’s baby, someone’s friend, someone’s entire world. The compassion we extend to our patients must also be extended inward. You are not just training to heal others; you are also deserving of healing, rest, and grace for yourself.
When medical education gets hard—and it will get hard—my motivation often comes from returning to my "why." Sometimes it’s as simple as remembering the patient I want to help, the community I want to uplift, or the version of myself I am growing into. But honestly, on the hardest days, what keeps me going is not always noble. Sometimes it is the support of a friend, the memory of how far I have come, or the belief that the storm will pass—and it always does.
To incoming students, my advice is this: Prioritize your mental wellness like your life depends on it—because it does. How can you expect to care for someone else if you do not take care of yourself? That does not mean you have to be perfect, balanced, or even okay all the time. But it does mean checking in with yourself regularly, setting boundaries, asking for help when you need it, and remembering that rest is not a reward; it is a necessity.
Medicine is a calling, yes—but you are more than what you give. Take care of the giver, too.
With empathy and solidarity,
Bryanna Rather Eguh, MS
Several studies have revealed that medical students, physicians, and healthcare professionals experience mental health symptoms at rates significantly higher than the general population. Stethos[Cope] is a chapter of IfYoureReadingThis designed to help medical students and professionals cope with the unique stressors of medical training and change the narrative of mental health in medicine.
To read more letters and interviews from students, and to learn more about mental health in the medical community, visit the Stethos[Cope] home page.