Krusha P.
Photo provided by Krusha P.
If you’re reading this, let your “why” be stronger than the moments that make you question it.
Before getting into medical school, I genuinely questioned whether I should keep going. It wasn't after one bad exam or one difficult day in the clinic—it was after weeks of feeling like I was giving everything I had and not seeing changes. I remember sitting in front of my laptop during another long MCAT study session, staring at a UWorld question set that seemed determined to humble me. The red incorrect answers began to blur together, and instead of thinking about the next question, I found myself asking a different one: Is this really worth it? I had poured years into working towards medicine, yet in that moment, acceptance felt far away, and borderline impossible. More than wondering whether I would get into medical school, I wondered whether I still had the motivation to keep trying.
Those thoughts didn't appear overnight. They accumulated quietly through months of studying without seeing the progress I expected, through the frustration of investing so much energy into something that often felt like it gave very little back. Even while working with patients, there were moments when we did everything we could and still couldn't change the outcome. Those experiences slowly chipped away at the confidence and excitement that I had when I started this path. For the first time, I caught myself wondering if I should walk away from a dream I had spent so long chasing. That realization was difficult to admit—not because I wanted to quit, but because I couldn't recognize the person having those thoughts.
Then, one interaction with a patient changed everything. It wasn't a dramatic moment or medical breakthrough. It was something much quieter. I met a patient, likely in his early 20s, who came to the clinic without any symptoms, wanting to be tested for COVID-19 and strep to make sure he was not carrying an illness before meeting his niece for the first time. Watching how much that small act of care meant to him reminded me that medicine is not only about treating illness, but also about protecting the moments and relationships that matter the most. In the middle of all the doubt, that interaction reminded me why I had chosen this path in the first place. For the first time in months, I wasn't thinking about practice questions, acceptance rates, or whether I was good enough. I was simply present with another person. That moment didn't erase the exhaustion or make the road ahead any easier, but it gave those struggles a purpose again. It reminded me that my motivation had never disappeared—it had simply been buried beneath stress, disappointment, and the pressure I had placed on myself.
Sometimes, all it takes is one moment to remind you that you're exactly where you're meant to be. On the days when nothing seems to go your way, when self-doubt is louder than your confidence, it's easy to question whether you're good enough for the path you've chosen. But one small reminder—a conversation, a kind word, a quiet victory, or even a feeling you almost overlooked—can prove that you are. It's okay to lose sight of why you started; growth isn't a straight line. What matters is finding your way back. Often, it's the smallest moments that reconnect you with your "why" and remind you that the dream you chose is still worth believing in. Those moments don't erase the hard days, but they remind you why they're worth enduring.
Krusha Patel, Second Year Medical Student
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.