The ultimate fashion accessory

White Coat Ceremony 2009- Love my family

When walking through the halls of a hospital, it's fairly common to see non-physicians in white coats. Some departments use this as a symbol to denote the leadership- such as charge nurses, higher education etc. To many people, this simple article of clothing (which seems to also double as a stain magnet) is just that: nothing more than a weird and thin coat that has traditional meaning but has little value in today's world.

There may be many, many versions of this coat out there, but I would argue that the true testament to the emotional weight of a physician's coat would set it apart from the rest.

After one particularly difficult morning and on my way to see my next patient, I found myself with the rare opportunity to think and reflect. The morning had been filled with the loss of a patient after a prolonged code (i.e. CPR), which is unfortunately common when on adult ICU. Barely having time to recover from the frustrating and physically demanding past 45 minutes, I was sent to see another patient out on the regular hospital floor.

Grabbing my coat, I began to make my way out of the ICU and down the hall to the next patient. Caught up in my thoughts and trying to prepare myself for the next encounter, I was struck by the weight of the coat as I slipped my arms into the familiar sleeves. Being the good medical student that I am, these pockets are filled to the brim with flashlights, pens, highlighters and books. Oh and my stethoscope, alcohol wipes and probably a granola bar or two. I've never weighed this thing mid-rotation but I do know that I may be developing a hunchback from it.

With each step I took towards the next patient, I took deep breaths to clear my mind of the past 45 minutes and prepare myself for the person in need at my upcoming destination. It's not that I didn't care about the person who had just passed, that is certainly the furthest thing from the truth. It's that the role of any nurse, technician or physician has to be ready, 100% present and ready for the next person in need.

That's when I realized what the white coat means. It may mean leadership. It may be protection from the exposure of germs and body fluids that we daily encounter. But most importantly, this coat in all of it's weight-whether we choose to wear it or not-is a reflection on all of our experiences and the strength that we have gained from them. I have laughed in this coat, I have celebrated. I have sought it out for warmth in a particularly cold OR locker room. I have used it to wipe tears inspired by patients gained and those from patients lost. It has graciously received many a coffee stain so that my clothes don't (and other stains as well but I'll just denote them as 'other').

Last day working
as an FSU Med student!

But most importantly, this white coat has helped me to experience life in all of it's forms. While wearing this coat, it has taught me how to love, listen and be present. It has shown me to be always be prepared (refer to comment on what's in those pockets...) but to always be humble. It should call us to a deeper meaning of the word servent. While wearing it, we should try to inspire calm and peaceful confidence in our patients. It should encourage us to act like the greats of our times- embracing each person with the dignity and respect that they deserve- with the gift of our education, time and most importantly, our ears.

I have had one coat for the past 4 years and have recently retired it after having seen my last patient on my last clinical rotation of medical school. I will have many more white coats in the future, and may very well only wear a physical white coat for 3 more years. Regardless, the lessons learned in this simple cotton and not at all flattering piece of clothing will carry me through my life and I will be forever thankful for it.

So so long FSU coat. I will wash you one last time, but the impact that you have had will resound for lifetimes to come.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me through the past 8 years of higher education. I could never had done any of this without your constant support and total accessibility via phone, video chat or physical presence. You all have taught me how to love and for that I am eternally grateful.