yash-pandya

Yash Pandya

Yash Pandya is a science writer at The "Almost" Doctor's Channel. He is a rising third-year student at the University of Pittsburgh, majoring in Emergency Medicine with minors in Neuroscience and Chemistry. Yash plans on attending the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine in Fall 2016 with guaranteed admission. In addition to the usual humdrum of academic involvement, Yash loves to play Ping Pong, catch up on the latest "Big Bang Theory," and travel. Having lived in India for half his lifetime, Yash aspires to expand his horizons into international healthcare by practicing medicine globally.

Wait! I Need Some Time To Think About It

Dear Adam, Ideally speaking, I should say that I am happy to hear back from you. However, I am genuinely sorry to hear about your newfound condition of Hereditary Sensory Neuropathy Type I (HSN Type I). Based on what I know about the disorder, which is obviously quite limited due to the ailment’s nature, the best treatment is indeed symptomatic therapy coupled with optimism for your health. The questions that you posed in your letter bring up crucial points. I agree with you that while we have funds from national institutes devoted towards the development of therapies for disorders commonly found in the populace, the rarest of medical conditions often go unnoticed due to the overshadowing influence of diseases such as diabetes and coronary artery disease. The study of the most unique of disorders serves the dual purpose of helping a select group of individuals suffering from incurable as well as unmanageable diseases and of expanding our knowledge about the intricacies of the human body. There are many scientists out there who are passionate about pursuing a career in finding out more about these rare medical conditions. However, national and government institutes that provide the funds for their work would rather boost their public image by providing their financial support to investigations of widespread diseases. It is a reality that is hard to face yet inescapable. Whether one looks...

Just How Poetic Can You Get with a Medical Disease?

Bright was the day and dark was the night, When I first lost the distinction between wrong and right. What am I thinking, what am I doing? Formulating strange thoughts with delusional ideas brewing. Is this what it has come to in pursuit of my dream? Making me question myself, demanding a loud scream?   Some call me a hypochondriac, others call me crazy, But what truly is happening to me, is it maybe just a doozy? Looking in the annals of psychiatry, I see one condition, Medical Student Syndrome, what a pertinent addition!   Here I am living, every day of my life, Thinking, “What is this headache, could it be a surgical knife?!” From the skin to the gut, my body is an infectious sore, Crawling with bacteria and viruses, as I am no more. Schizophrenia, bipolar, depression, or anorexia, Let it be anything else, even my avant-garde intelligentsia.   Every minute of every day, I learn a new disease, Ingraining a new pathophysiology with unnerving ease. I go from neoplastic meningitis to basal cell carcinoma, Dreading my demise at the hands of a freakin’ coma!   The days as a medical student are stretching hard and long, Testing my will to survive and come out of it strong. But will I make it with so many disorders? So many risks teetering on their borders? What will...

These People are Just Doing Their Jobs, But Here’s Why I’m Thankful They’re Good at It

6:20 PM “Ok everyone. We’ve got eyes. Sir, my name is Dr. Hanger. Can you hear me? You were in an accident earlier today and you are in the ER right now. We’re gonna take good care of you. Just stay with us, ok?” That is undoubtedly something no one wants to hear when they open their eyes. I struggled to remember how I had ended up in the ER when I should have taken bus 71B and headed straight home to finish my long-overdue calculus homework. It took a moment for me to recall the details, but it all finally came rushing back to me.   5:00 PM “That physiology exam…I wonder if the professor just likes to torture us for fun,” I thought to myself as I walked out of the exam room. It was sunny out today. I could see everyone sitting in the lawn, relaxing under the shade of the sun that had appeared after countless months, and all I could think about was how I had just screwed up on my test. “If this is undergrad, med school’s going to be a treat.” I just kept on walking, approaching the intersection on Fifth and Bigelow. I was distracted, thinking about my plummeting grade in physiology class, when I was swept off my feet (literally) and thrown to the ground 10 feet away from the...

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