The outlander’s tale

“Alien Physician” – thus am I ordained by the document that allows me to train in America. I am the International Medical Graduate. This is my story.

I came from poverty and hardship. In other cases, I came from wealth and privilege. Regardless, I clawed my way over staggering numbers of competitors to earn my shot at a medical education. Back home, I was top of my class, fresh out of medical school. In other cases, I was a respected practitioner with a wealth of experience. Now I am a blank slate.

I am here because I heard of a place where questions were encouraged and boundaries pushed. Or I am here because I learned of the American dream. They told me I would be judged for my merit here and nothing else. I have escaped persecution, war, nepotism, or perhaps just a bogged-down system to get here.

Although I have taken the same tests as you, my resume comes with an asterisk. I have had to prove myself by rising to a standard higher than that expected of my peers. Much of my time and peace of mind are consumed jumping through bureaucratic hoops in order to continue my stay. For every one of me you see, there is at least one more who was forced to give up on his or her dream midway.

Know this, however – I appreciate working in a system where the team is greater than the individual, where no job is menial, where the ability to make choices about your health is yours alone, to be shared should you need to.

Know that I am good company, although my jokes sometimes fall flat in the space between our two cultures. Learning new things about your country and its people makes me feel young again.

Know that I have a keen appreciation of how important cultural nuance is to the doctor-patient relationship, even if I come across as ignorant. I have gained this understanding not by reading about it in a book, but by living it.

Know that nothing is more important to me than the health of my patients, and that my being a foreigner does not mean your child will receive anything less than my very best.

Most importantly, know that I feel blessed to be here. While my journey is still uphill, I have no regrets. If I were not made of hard stuff, I would not be here. Although I may grumble, I shall endeavor to accept my lot with grace and humility in the knowledge that I have earned the right to practice the subject that I love and the cognizance that not everyone would open their arms to outsiders the way you have. It has meant the world to me. Working with you has opened my eyes to things I did not see before and has inspired me to be a better doctor. I hope in some small way my presence here affords you that same inspiration.

Dr. Behere was a pediatric resident at the Children’s Hospital at Dartmouth, Lebanon, N.H. when he wrote this article. He is currently a first-year fellow in pediatric cardiology at the Nemours Cardiac Center at the Nemours/Alfred I. duPont Hospital for Children, Wilmington, Del.

“Alien Physician” – thus am I ordained by the document that allows me to train in America. I am the International Medical Graduate. This is my story.

I came from poverty and hardship. In other cases, I came from wealth and privilege. Regardless, I clawed my way over staggering numbers of competitors to earn my shot at a medical education. Back home, I was top of my class, fresh out of medical school. In other cases, I was a respected practitioner with a wealth of experience. Now I am a blank slate.

I am here because I heard of a place where questions were encouraged and boundaries pushed. Or I am here because I learned of the American dream. They told me I would be judged for my merit here and nothing else. I have escaped persecution, war, nepotism, or perhaps just a bogged-down system to get here.

Although I have taken the same tests as you, my resume comes with an asterisk. I have had to prove myself by rising to a standard higher than that expected of my peers. Much of my time and peace of mind are consumed jumping through bureaucratic hoops in order to continue my stay. For every one of me you see, there is at least one more who was forced to give up on his or her dream midway.

Know this, however – I appreciate working in a system where the team is greater than the individual, where no job is menial, where the ability to make choices about your health is yours alone, to be shared should you need to.

Know that I am good company, although my jokes sometimes fall flat in the space between our two cultures. Learning new things about your country and its people makes me feel young again.

Know that I have a keen appreciation of how important cultural nuance is to the doctor-patient relationship, even if I come across as ignorant. I have gained this understanding not by reading about it in a book, but by living it.

Know that nothing is more important to me than the health of my patients, and that my being a foreigner does not mean your child will receive anything less than my very best.

Most importantly, know that I feel blessed to be here. While my journey is still uphill, I have no regrets. If I were not made of hard stuff, I would not be here. Although I may grumble, I shall endeavor to accept my lot with grace and humility in the knowledge that I have earned the right to practice the subject that I love and the cognizance that not everyone would open their arms to outsiders the way you have. It has meant the world to me. Working with you has opened my eyes to things I did not see before and has inspired me to be a better doctor. I hope in some small way my presence here affords you that same inspiration.

Dr. Behere was a pediatric resident at the Children’s Hospital at Dartmouth, Lebanon, N.H. when he wrote this article. He is currently a first-year fellow in pediatric cardiology at the Nemours Cardiac Center at the Nemours/Alfred I. duPont Hospital for Children, Wilmington, Del.

“Alien Physician” – thus am I ordained by the document that allows me to train in America. I am the International Medical Graduate. This is my story.

I came from poverty and hardship. In other cases, I came from wealth and privilege. Regardless, I clawed my way over staggering numbers of competitors to earn my shot at a medical education. Back home, I was top of my class, fresh out of medical school. In other cases, I was a respected practitioner with a wealth of experience. Now I am a blank slate.

I am here because I heard of a place where questions were encouraged and boundaries pushed. Or I am here because I learned of the American dream. They told me I would be judged for my merit here and nothing else. I have escaped persecution, war, nepotism, or perhaps just a bogged-down system to get here.

Although I have taken the same tests as you, my resume comes with an asterisk. I have had to prove myself by rising to a standard higher than that expected of my peers. Much of my time and peace of mind are consumed jumping through bureaucratic hoops in order to continue my stay. For every one of me you see, there is at least one more who was forced to give up on his or her dream midway.

Know this, however – I appreciate working in a system where the team is greater than the individual, where no job is menial, where the ability to make choices about your health is yours alone, to be shared should you need to.

Know that I am good company, although my jokes sometimes fall flat in the space between our two cultures. Learning new things about your country and its people makes me feel young again.

Know that I have a keen appreciation of how important cultural nuance is to the doctor-patient relationship, even if I come across as ignorant. I have gained this understanding not by reading about it in a book, but by living it.

Know that nothing is more important to me than the health of my patients, and that my being a foreigner does not mean your child will receive anything less than my very best.

Most importantly, know that I feel blessed to be here. While my journey is still uphill, I have no regrets. If I were not made of hard stuff, I would not be here. Although I may grumble, I shall endeavor to accept my lot with grace and humility in the knowledge that I have earned the right to practice the subject that I love and the cognizance that not everyone would open their arms to outsiders the way you have. It has meant the world to me. Working with you has opened my eyes to things I did not see before and has inspired me to be a better doctor. I hope in some small way my presence here affords you that same inspiration.

Dr. Behere was a pediatric resident at the Children’s Hospital at Dartmouth, Lebanon, N.H. when he wrote this article. He is currently a first-year fellow in pediatric cardiology at the Nemours Cardiac Center at the Nemours/Alfred I. duPont Hospital for Children, Wilmington, Del.