Before I started medical college, a simple headache or stomach ache meant I hadn’t slept well or had eaten something wrong.
But as my understanding of health and disease started growing, the meaning of these things began to change.I came to know that many serious conditions begin with mild and manageable symptoms. Simple, everyday symptoms can sometimes be messengers of a serious underlying condition.
I could manage these thoughts when it came to my own health, but when my loved ones experienced such symptoms, my anxiety would increase. Even the slightest symptoms and small aches of theirs reminded me of the related concepts and lectures, and every possible diagnosis used to come to my mind.
Until one day, I realised that my increasing knowledge about health should help me understand things better and handle situations more confidently. It should be my strength, not my weakness. I couldn’t let it make me more anxious.
So, I started focusing on evidence rather than presumptions. I began applying my knowledge step by step to assess situations objectively and tried to draw a line between where facts ended and presumptions began. Slowly, I learnt when to stop myself, rely on appropriate tests, and seek guidance from more experienced professionals rather than making judgements on my own, getting anxious, and thinking about the worst-case scenarios based on my limited knowledge.
I am sure many of you have faced this. That is why we have a term, medical student syndrome, for this relatively common experience.
Would you like to share your experience?
MBH/PS