As a new academic year in medical training begins, and as I have made the transition in my own training from residency to fellowship, I want to take the time to reflect on my experience during the part of training that every physician seems to remember the most, Residency.

Dear Residency,

There are some things that can only be adequately explained through experience, no matter how hard you try with words: Awe. Fear. Triumph. Failure. Love. Grief. Even though these are typically emotions, weirdly enough I believe You, Residency, to also be one of those things.

Residency, I’ve always struggled to explain exactly what You are like to nonmedical professionals, and even some nonphysician health care professionals too. To be on a 24-hour call in the PICU/NICU, and during that 24th straight hour awake, rushing to be there for a patient and their family during the worst hour of their lives. To comfort a hurting coworker. To be hurt and comforted by a coworker. To take in a 30-minute “vent session” by a parent over something seemingly minute, only to realize they are simply desperately worried for their ailing child. To be asked if I’m still in medical school. To be questioned when the “real” doctor is coming. Business hours? Not always a thing in Your world. Need to do a simple chore or respond to some emails? Well, my body isn’t always quite up for it after a long day’s work, so gotta wait until You just so happen to give me some time off during the rest of society’s normal business hours. Do you think I would choose to work six 14-hour night shifts in a row? No, You made me do that. Long nights? Yes. Long days? Yes. Long months? Yes. Long years? Actually… no.

Because that’s where the beautiful flip side to You comes in, Residency. You made the years short, almost as a sneaky trick. You started off by humbling me when I already felt like I knew nothing. Then, You taught me things day by day without me even being aware of it. Then, You helped me grow and realize who I am as a pediatrician while caring for the sickest of children. And finally, You allowed me to foster the growth of other pediatricians in the infancy of their careers, which in and of itself was heartwarming to witness. The days that I wish I didn’t have to spend with You were few and far between. I tried to give You my all whenever I could, and in return, You gave me more than I could have asked for: humility, strength, perseverance, patience, kindness, and so much more. You gave me the joy and privilege of treating children and bringing happiness to them and their parents. You allowed for my vulnerability. You gave me so many highest of highs, which far outweighed the occasional lowest of lows. And lastly, You introduced me to a new set of best friends in my coresidents. You showed me what true compassion is by working alongside them. You let me enjoy their success more than my own. You let me laugh with them. You gave me the opportunity to spend time with SO MANY of the best people I know. Every. Single. Day. You showed me there’s something about a long, meaningful, shared journey with the best people that creates an unbreakable bond. Where else do you get that?

So thank you, Residency. I know others may feel differently about You, and I kind of get it. I really do. But I do feel sorry that they don’t feel the same way I do about You, because You were responsible for some of the most formative, impactful, and best years of my life. As weird as it feels to say, I’m gonna miss You, because I guess all good things must come to an end.

Sincerely,

Adarsh Kulkarni

A former resident

2024