The Making of a Public Health Physician

My husband and I got married the week before match day during our fourth year of medical school. Upon our return from our wedding trip, we were very relieved to discover that we would not only be located within the same city but would also be doing our internships at the same institution. I was starting a postgraduate training program in pediatrics; my husband was doing a rotating internship before going onto a residency in ophthalmology. Unfortunately, our on-call schedule never seemed to coincide; hence, we spent that year following a discordant cycle of one night on, the next night totally exhausted, and the third night trying to gain the physical and emotional stamina to face the following night's trials. Our crock pot worked overtime creating many a dinner. Whoever was home on a given evening hauled its overcooked contents through the streets of Philadelphia to eventually share with the other in some dismal on-call room. For me, the highlight of the year was contracting pertussis and being banned from on-call duty in the neonatal intensive care nursery for several nights. And acquiring hepatitis B from a needlestick exposure gave my husband the time to reupholster our couch and chairs.

Late in the academic year, I decided to seek a pediatric training program elsewhere in the city. Unfortunately, no position was available, and I was told that I would have to wait another year for an opening. Because our undergraduate loans required monthly payments, I had no choice but to find other work in the interim. …