A Bed in the Corner: What Medical School Didn’t Teach Me About Inequity

This article was exclusively written for The European Sting by Mr. Sangam Sil is a third-year MBBS student at Nil Ratan Sircar Medical College, Kolkata, India. He is affiliated with the International Federation of Medical Students Associations (IFMSA), cordial partner of The Sting. The opinions expressed in this piece belong strictly to the writer and do not necessarily reflect IFMSA’s view on the topic, nor The European Sting’s one.

I remember the patient clearly. Middle-aged, sun-wrinkled skin, wearing a faded sari. She sat quietly on the edge of the hospital bed, clutching her bag as if afraid it might be taken. She had walked three hours from her village to reach the hospital, skipping breakfast and her morning dose of medication to make it in time.

Her file said hypertension and anemia. But it didn’t mention that she lived alone, that her son had migrated for work and rarely called, or that she couldn’t afford the iron-rich foods we recommend. I stood behind the intern as they discussed her plan. I watched, listened, noted down the instructions in my logbook. She nodded, thanked the doctors, and walked out the door. I never saw her again.

In medical school, we’re taught how to take a history, how to examine, how to read lab results. But no one prepares us for the silence—the moments when you realize that the barriers your patient faces are not clinical, but social. That even the best medical care can feel like a luxury when daily survival is a struggle.

We learn about “health inequities” in theory. We list social determinants of health in exams. But it’s only in the wards that it becomes real—when you meet patients whose lives don’t fit neatly into your textbooks. When your advice, though well-intentioned, feels out of place in their reality.

I’m just a student. I can’t diagnose or treat. But I can observe. And what I see is a system that still doesn’t fully include the people it’s meant to serve. Patients waiting for hours because they can’t afford private care. Families sharing beds. Discrimination that’s subtle, but ever-present.

To build a fairer, healthier world, we need more than medical knowledge. We need empathy. Curiosity. The willingness to ask, “What’s really standing in the way of this person’s health?” and to listen—even if we can’t fix it right away.

This World Health Day, I carry with me not just what I’ve studied, but what I’ve witnessed. And I hope that as I grow in this profession, I’ll learn not just how to treat disease—but how to understand the person who lives with it.

About the author

Sangam Sil is a third-year MBBS student at Nil Ratan Sircar Medical College, Kolkata. He is passionate about understanding how structural inequalities impact patient care, with a strong interest in both public health and medical research. He enjoys reading and writing about his clinical experiences, often reflecting on the human stories behind the science.

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