All doctors should be on #TeamPatient.

Today I held a mother in my arms so she could cry her tears of frustration. She stays up all night to care for her crying kid who scratches herself until she bleeds everyday. She’s only 2 years old yet she’s spent most of her life putting creams after creams on her little body. The kid needs Dupixent (injection). But her insurance wouldn’t cover Dupixent until she fails crisaborole. It won’t cover crisaborole until she fails tacrolimus. It won’t cover tacrolimus until she fails 2 moderate to high potency steroids. The insurance-imposed step therapy sabotages the physician-patient relationship, delays care, and harms patients.

Anti-fatness is prevalent in medicine. Yet it’s baseless, unethical, and bad medicine.

“I think it’s all in her head.” Someone new on my team said about a patient. I don’t talk sternly much at work, because I don’t believe in scolding people. But this time I said: “We do NOT talk like that about patients anymore. Especially if you’d like to work on my team.”

When I promised Mimi — a teenage girl who lost all her hair to alopecia areata — that I would fight the good fight to get her the medications she needed, I meant it. I wish when I lost my hair almost 30 years ago, Olumiant and Litfulo existed, and someone would fight for me to get them. As the good fight turned into a terrible fight, the memories of my youth came to me. Can I keep my promise to my patient and myself?

“I screwed up.” A patient with a severe inflammatory skin condition told me repeatedly. He was convinced that he had the skin condition because of an allergy. I tried to tell him otherwise, but he wouldn’t let me get a single word in. In the past, situations like this where a man interrupts me all the time and refuses to let me get a word in would get me mad. And it did this time too, for a second. Then I realized he was in a vulnerable state of mind. He had been blamed for his skin condition for so long that he had become self-blaming.

10 years ago, serendipitously, me, a girl from Beijing, came to live in a small town in New Hampshire. My landlords are an old couple, who didn’t just take me into their home, but made this little place in the mountains home FOR me.

Medical school was hard. I was rather new to the country, and getting through an abusive relationship. My landlords fed me when I couldn’t bring myself to cook; they washed my clothes when all I did was stay in bed. Without them, and many others, I couldn’t have made it through. This little place on the river became a dream in which I could rest and heal.

Yesterday, I came back to visit. The past is long gone. I have more space in my heart for those who love me. And I’m determined to make that space a cozy home for them like they once did for me.

97 years ago, my great grandmother walked by a new mother’s open window in a cold winter morning and saw that she was trying to freeze her baby to death. Turned out, the pregnant woman came to Beijing from far away to look for her husband. But he was already sent to war, and she couldn’t afford to raise a baby on her own. My great grandma kneeled down and begged her to spare the baby. “Give the baby to my family. We will treat him like our own.” The two mothers shed tears, and exchanged information. 7 years later, the soldier came back from war and made a name for himself. The couple came to our family bearing gifts and asked to see the child. They saw my great grandmother upheld her promise to treat their baby well, and they were grateful. “We are indebted to you. We won’t take your son away. But please tell him he has a father with another surname, who will leave him a good inheritance.” Everyone stayed true to their words. Today, almost a century later, no one remembers my great grandmother’s name, as women didn’t carry their own names back then. But everyone talks about her kindness. And her 97-year-old son (my great uncle) is living proof. She was Benevolence. And we are all her legacy.

"One more thing," the patient says, right when I'm about to exit the exam room.

I used to be annoyed by it. Until one day, a patient's "one more thing" was actually "the" thing she wanted to say. But she needed to feel me out and make sure I was a safe person first. So, I sat back down and listened. Then we discussed and ran tests.

"You restored my faith in doctors." She took the bus just to tell me this today after making a full recovery. Her visit filled my heart with warmth and purpose.

If we ask people to wait for months for their appointments, then (sometimes) hours in our offices, we can hear them out for their one more thing.

97% of patients have been misunderstood, dismissed, and misdiagnosed by doctors. Many have lost faith in medicine. The urgent question is: how do we stop gaslighting patients? I asked Twitter to educate me. And here are the 11 lessons I learned.

Doctors make mistakes. But do they know they make mistakes? Do they admit to themselves they make mistakes? Dr. Zed looks into herself, with the help of her puppy, Moshi Moshi, to answer the question: when was the last time I made a mistake as a doctor?

Have you felt medical training engulfs your entire personhood sometimes? As medical trainees, we are judged solely as two-dimensional: good or bad, fast or slow, likable or not likable. How about who we are outside of medicine? Or just who we are as three-dimensional wholesome people? Don’t diminish who you are just because you are a medical student/resident/fellow.

Residency is a physically and emotionally exhausting time of a physician’s life, and it can be so unforgiving. Choose your program carefully. Here is a (very honest) list of questions I wish I asked during my residency interviews.

Doctors make mistakes, like all humans do. But when was the last time you received an sincere apology from your doctor when it was called for? I dissect my own vulnerabilities and pride through the two stories where I apologized: once to a nurse, and once to a patient.

“How did you get the patient to talk to you?” I asked the counselor, after failing miserably to do so myself. “I just sat with her, until she was ready to talk”. As information gatherers, sometimes we forget that the “awkward” silence can be the exact thing that forms a therapeutic relationship.

We all love to chart so much as physicians (not). I pride myself in spending almost no time on charting at home, and having a very clean InBasket. Here are my 8 practical tips to help you stay on top of charting.

Wondering if rural full-scope family medicine is for you as a career path? Wondering what the life of a country doctor is like? Look no further. This is my list of Pros and Cons of my beloved career path to help you make a decision about yours.