Letter 22.

Dear Future JailMD,

Three years ago, the metal sliding doors slammed behind me, and fear settled in, but little did I know that it opened a door into a world that would change me forever. 

Before embarking on this journey in medicine, I was centered in serving disadvantaged communities that I am a product of and was doing work so I could do my part in “changing the world” for the better.  I valued the bidirectional exchange and personal growth that came from caring for people and working with communities.  During my time in the jail it was overtly apparent that no one in their right mind would ever want to be in this environment— this space where despair brews in the walls and infects the hearts and minds of everyone in it.  With every shift, I guarded my heart and mind by opening them as widely as possible to every person I interacted with whether it was a patient, medical assistant, nurse, nurse practioner, other doctors, pharmacist, or even a deputy.  From every person, I learned something about life and humanity that I carried forward into my next interaction.  The lessons I learned were usually related to how several systems and structures fail people, but more so were about how those people survived despite them.  I left every shift feeling frustrated and hopeless, but always with the gift of one more human story that informed my perception of the world. 

I tried to share these trauma-filled stories through my letters as a way to reflect.  A part of me hoped that the words would be read by someone (or even a lot of people) who could help me change the circumstances of perpetual generational pain that I witnessed over and over again.  This help could come in many forms — a moment of empathy, an attempt to better understand how hurt people hurt people, or even a decision to dedicate time to serve this population in some capacity.  I am not sure if I accomplished any of that or even if that was the purpose of my time with people in the jail. What all of the experienced reinforced is that

1) everyone’s story matters and my story is intertwined in theirs (and yours),

2) there is no diagnosis I make or treatment that I can give that cures the trauma we inflict on one another, but

3) love can. 

As you begin this journey and I start a new one, remember to always lead with love and amplify the voices you have the privilege of hearing. 

Love always,

Dr. A