Straightening my volunteer badge, I take a deep breath. Knock, knock, knock. Inside the room sits an elderly woman at the edge of her bed. She has her feet dangling over the edge, gazing lifelessly at the floor. She is unaffected by my presence. A few steps towards the bed and I get a murmur, “what do you want?” and I proceed to introduce myself, “Well Mam, my name is Chase. I am a student volunteer in unit 74. Is there anything I can do for you?” As she peered up from the ground we locked eyes. “Yes. I need someone to talk to.” I could sense the desperation in her tone.

Sitting down on the bed next to her she fills me in. Her husband passed away last week from a heart attack. Today she is in the hospital with the worst migraine of her life and her doctor is checking her labs and imaging. The hospital is slammed and it has been hours since anyone has popped in her room.  I placed my hand next to hers. She squeezed it tightly. Then she opened up further to me and as she did her demeanor changed. I caught a smile as she described the first time she met her husband. By the time we discussed her life’s work as a paleontologist she was glowing. She had almost forgot why she was here.

But that wasn’t for long. Knock, knock, knock. Her doctor entered. Setting the tone from the start, the doctor informed the patient it was bad news. Metastatic brain cancer, likely terminal, which would need immediate surgery. Distraught, the patient fired a series of questions. “What do you mean? I have been healthy my whole life!” But her fears dismissed. The options were clear—surgery or hospice. As the doctor left the room the patient burst into tears, grabbing my hand once again. I think that was the best possible use for my hand that day.

There was going to be no surgery for her. She was content with her life and had found peace in death. Left with no one at this difficult time, she humbly thanked me “I have never met someone so kind”. On her way out, one last request. “Remember one day when you’re a doctor that patients are people too.”

As students, we often say that we pursue medicine to change lives. However after this encounter, I owe a gracious thank you to the first patient I ever sat next to. Unbeknown to her, I believe it is my life that is changed. From that day forward I have realized that people are not just composed of bodies, but their souls need tending to. Medical professionals are often taught to instruct, but listening can be just as therapeutic. I have learned that being a doctor is not about treating an illness; it is about treating a person. Company does for the soul what medicine does for the body. And I intend to spend the rest of my life healing both.