My time in India reshaped my understanding of health. I realized the power and privilege of medicine. That while it should never be a luxury, it often times is. And I think sometimes, we as healthcare providers, future healthcare providers, and people from the US forget that. The comparisons between India and the US left me struggling to answer my questions. Could the US adopt certain cost-control measures without sacrificing the quality of our care? Could India learn from the US about emergency infrastructure and regulation without losing their accessibility? And more importantly, what can we do to bridge the gap in both of these countries?
Outside of medicine, India taught me about myself. Traveling pushed me so far outside of my comfort zone. I learned to place myself in someone else’s shoes. To try and imagine for even a moment what lack of healthcare and education, poverty or hunger feel like. I was also able to see my heritage differently. As an Indian American, I realized how much of my perspective was shaped by the privilege of where I was born. In Rishikesh, seeing those little girls selling goods on the street made me question the arbitrary nature of opportunity. There is no inherent difference between me and them. I was simply lucky.
That realization also made me think about my future role as a physician, and also as a leader and an advocate for my patients. I think conversations about access usually stop at the point of acknowledging the problem, but here I saw the importance of awareness and then doing something about it. I think about how even one healthcare professional can change the health of a community. And that is where I see my future. Hopefully not just practicing medicine, but working at the intersection of policy, community and clinical care to make sure that people most removed from the system can be brought into it.
