“One day at a time.” These exact words I continue to say to myself even after matching and beginning my residency. I had always known my goal was to pursue a residency in the United States. I would read medical books, articles, and other research done in the United States to complement my learning back home. I always thought to myself: “I want to find out how they’re discovering all these new things, participate in them, and hopefully bring innovative techniques back home.”
Each journey in medicine is unique, but all are full of grit, strength, and motivation. I write this blog post in the hopes that you can derive inspiration during your experience as an international medical graduate. By no means is this an easy route, but it is incredibly worth it, and I would not have had it any other way.
It was November, and I was in the second year of my cardiology fellowship when I received a phone call from my brother in Saudi Arabia. It was an odd time for him to call me. I picked up and listened to his frantic voice: “Khalid, our mother had a cardiac arrest. She is in ER! Intubated! Going to ICU. I will call you back… I have to go…I will call you back!” I was at my apartment in Ohio, thousands of miles away, as my whole life was turning upside down. After about 15-20 long minutes, I spoke with my brother again: “Khalid, she just passed away!” Just like that, she was gone.
It is a common refrain that “things get better.” I now strongly believe that is true, but I didn’t always. I went through many ups and downs on my journey in medicine, such as dealing with homesickness, weathering professional and personal hardships, and trying to make good impressions and forge meaningful connections as an introvert. I navigated all of this before I understood that of course things will always, eventually get better—because when you are at your lowest, there is only one way to go: up.
“Did you see any COVID-19 patients today?” my wife nervously asked as I entered our home. I was clad in an N-95 mask for the first time. “Not yet” I replied.
My mask and her concerns were well-warranted; we were about to be first-time parents, and she was in her last trimester. Our relatives and friends would routinely ask, “When is your gift from God coming?” and we always cautiously replied, “Anytime now, just pray—you know how times are….”