Comments on: The Short Bus: Thoughts on Disability, Mortality, and Accommodations

By: blakecharlton

blakecharlton — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 00:51:57 +0000

Thank you so much for these thoughtful remarks! You are so very right about the being trained to accommodate our patients’ disabilities while our own disabilities are denied. Many days I can laugh about the irony of it, but some days I have to fume about the unfairness of it all.

Doctors have trouble admitting to their own shortcomings. There’s some of this at play in medicine’s wrongful denial of student accomodations; they can’t recognized us as both disabled and doctors. If we are to become doctors, we must deny our disabilities. (And I should say that I was rightly denied accommodations. Sadly, my research suggests I am in the minority in this regard).

It’s not good for patients that doctors can’t recognize disability within their ranks. It is, I think, one of the reasons why society is so obsessed with the “wounded healer” archetype, presently typified (heaven help us)in the character of House MD. I think that we are so obsessed with the wounded healer because, on some level, everyone knows that the idea of the “impeccable physician” is only an idea.

Thanks again for your thoughtful and kind words. I hope to hear more about your training (not having any other LD Med student with whom to compare notes). Meantime, take very good care!

By: Another MS

Another MS — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 01:28:22 +0000

I empathize your situation with dyslexia and the absurdity of the NBME and USMLE. Here we are in the medical field where it is supposed to help those with medical/physical/other disabilities…it is the only field left (compared to law, business, other professional fields) in which students with learning disability have to go through so much more hoops, where medical students with learning disability but high intelligence basically are denied to be on the same playing field, where their future is basically marred by a score that does not reflect truly what they know and how they can critically think, where their options are closed because of a score…. It is the only professional field left where it does not believe that students with learning disability are actually very intelligent and can apply what they know in much creative ways to bring great contributions. Ironically, it is THE FIELD that MUST NOT DISCRIMINATE students with disability since it is THE ONLY PROFESSIONAL FIELD that has a fighting chance of helping these students. I myself was denied the accommodations and had to work ten times harder than everyone else. I will forever have to struggle through the absurdity of timed standardized tests which will NEVER allow me to demonstrate what I can do.

I applaud your braveness and sincere honesty in telling your story. Thank you for sharing your story to give hope to others! Good luck with the rest of your medical training.

By: BlakeCharlton.com » What’s in a Score? What’s in a Score?

BlakeCharlton.com » What’s in a Score? What’s in a Score? — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 05:14:39 +0000

[...] those who consistently read this blog, both of you might remember my post about how the exam brought me to my knees. Preparing for the test and confronting my fears about my disability created one of the most [...]

By: blakecharlton

blakecharlton — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 03:48:51 +0000

Jess, Eliza, & Kei: thanks so much. You are all friends better than anyone deserves.

Darcy: How wonderful to hear! Bless you for your compassion. Receiving the “right” accommodation is, I very firmly believe, what we are all after. Keep fighting the good fight.

By: Darcy

Darcy — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 04:01:26 +0000

Your reflections on disability and accommodation are thought-provoking. I work with students with disabilities in higher education. One of the things I do is meet with students to determine appropriate academic accommodations based on the documentation they provide. I’m going to remember you when I’m meeting with students. Thank you!

By: Kei

Kei — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 01:03:27 +0000

“The test has come and gone, and I’m still alive. It felt absolutely, completely brutal.”
You faced a major obstacle and survived. Congratulations! Will this make you a better writer? Could be. A better physician? Oh, absolutely. Mostly I think this experience will make you an even more compassionate, empathetic person than you already are.
Hope you took some time to celebrate.

By: Eliza

Eliza — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 17:44:14 +0000

This is really good. I have always felt as though I knew you really well yet, after this piece, I feel like another layer has been revealed… one that was underneath all the other deep parts of who you are. Thank you for sharing!

By: Jess

Jess — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 02:37:36 +0000

This is gorgeous, which seems the wrong and the right word.

As one of your many editors, I feel compelled to make an addition to paragraph 5: in addition to misdiagnosing yourself, you also managed to convince one of your most attractive and brilliant (but not always smart) friends that she probably had ovarian cancer.

Can’t wait to celebrate the test (and I have no doubt, the results) properly very soon!

By: blakecharlton

blakecharlton — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 20:59:55 +0000

Tyson, as always you make some very important points, especially about how the meaning of the word “smart” is vague at best. Some days I feel as if “smart” is only what you can convince other people to believe. We often believe that standardized tests are an ‘objective’ measure of intelligence when in fact the intellect that can accomplishing something in the real world is so so much more important than the intellect that can excel on an exam. So keep on writing, my man; you’ve got some great points to make!

By: Tyson Perna

Tyson Perna — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 19:44:54 +0000

I’m trying to think of things to say in response to this that don’t come out sounding trite. I can relate to a lot of what you said even though I did not have a learning disability. Grade school teaches us to measure ourselves by the results of our standardized tests. I always blew everyone out of the water, so I came to judge myself as smarter than all my classmates. Then as we grew up and many of them caught up to me, I had a similar identity crisis to what you describe. If I’m not smart, than what am I? It wasn’t until I realized that “smart” is an almost meaningless word and intelligence has many measures that I got over it. Now I focus on specific abilities that are actually relevant to me, such as writing. I’d rather be J.D. Salinger with his 102 IQ and shit loads of talent than some genius who can’t get his act together and works as a cashier for Home Depot. I guess what I’m saying is that ultimately accomplishment means more than potential, which is all those tests were really trying to measure.