Newark, Delaware · Class of 2027
Future Clinician. Podcast Host. Storyteller.
I started HERstory in Medicine because I wanted to know what medicine actually costs a woman — not the tuition, but the real price. The women I have sat down with so far: a pathologist, an anesthesiologist, a physician assistant, an occupational therapist, an oncology nurse, a dentist. I keep asking because their answers surprise me every time — and because I wasn't the only one who needed to hear them. I needed their stories to know what I would face. Now I think every woman on this path needs them too — to keep going.
High school senior headed into clinical practice. I founded and host HERstory in Medicine — honest conversations with women who built careers in healthcare. New episodes dropping regularly.
Every guest, in her own words. Click any quote to hear it.
HERstory in Medicine
Across every conversation I've recorded, honest findings keep emerging — things no one had told me before I asked. These are the ones that stayed with me longest.
Every woman I have interviewed described some version of not being sure she belonged.
Every single one of them. If you are feeling that right now, it is not a signal about you — it is the most common experience in this profession.
A private community for women in medicine — and the women who want to become them. Peer advice, real answers, and a space for the conversations medicine doesn't make room for.
I started this podcast because I wanted to know what medicine actually costs a woman — not the tuition, but the real price. Every conversation deepens the question. The answers keep surprising me.
Each episode is a real conversation — unscripted, unhurried, and honest about what it actually takes to build a life in medicine as a woman.
They Came First
They didn’t wait for opportunities or permission.
Neither should we.
Hover to learn their story
All Episodes
Each conversation is unscripted and unhurried. I publish new episodes regularly — subscribe on Spotify or Apple Podcasts so you never miss one.
How This Works
I find guests one at a time — through family, through people my guests introduce me to, and through cold emails to women whose work I have read about. Nobody is paid and nobody sees the questions in advance.
Before each conversation I read everything I can find about the specialty, so the questions are specific to her and not a script I reuse. We record remotely for as long as it takes — some run seventeen minutes, some run closer to forty. I edit lightly and publish to Spotify, Apple Podcasts and Buzzsprout.
Afterwards I go back through the full transcript looking for what this guest said that nobody before her had. That is where the Lessons come from — not from my opinions, but from what the same obstacles look like across very different careers.
Are you a woman in medicine? I'm actively booking guests — physicians, PAs, nurses, NPs, CRNAs, therapists, researchers, and healthcare leaders at any stage. I record new conversations continuously — I’m building the library I wish had existed when I started looking. Each episode is an honest, unhurried recorded conversation.
Apply to Be a Guest →Charter School of Wilmington · Newark, Delaware
I've known for a while that I want to spend my career in healthcare — not watching from the side, but in the room, in the decision, at the bedside.
For most of this project I thought that meant nursing: a direct-admit BSN, an RN license, then anesthesia. My plan now is to become a physician assistant. The reason is sitting in the episodes. Nora Katurakes took a master’s in nursing into prevention and outreach instead of advanced practice, and can name six careers inside that one credential. Payal Patel chose occupational therapy over medical school and can tell you exactly why. Dr. Sapna Patel handed me a method for noticing when something is not the right fit, and she is clear that catching it is a skill rather than a failure. I have asked every one of these women how she chose. It would have been strange to ignore what they told me.
I started HERstory in Medicine because I had questions I couldn't find answers to in a textbook. What does it actually cost a woman to build a career in medicine? What do they wish they'd known? What do they still struggle with, even twenty years in? Every conversation teaches me something I didn't expect. And I'm still asking.
I've been preparing for the clinical path seriously — through the Apollo Program, Georgetown University's Medical Academy, college-level Anatomy & Physiology as a junior, and certifications in Basic Life Support and Human Research Protection through the NIH. The podcast is where the human side lives. Both matter to me equally.
What Drives Me
Every woman I have interviewed — without being asked — has named listening as the most important clinical skill they have. I'm practicing it every time I sit across from a guest and stay quiet long enough for them to say something real.
AP Biology, AP Statistics, college-level Anatomy & Physiology, NIH research certification. Advanced practice nursing demands scientific precision — pharmacology, pathophysiology, clinical reasoning. I take the academic foundation seriously because patient safety depends on it.
My Gujarati heritage taught me that identity is carried in small, consistent actions — not announced. The same is true in nursing. Bedside manner isn't performed. It's practiced until it becomes instinct. HERstory is how I practice showing up for other people's stories.
The Journey So Far
How I Work
None of my guests had to answer the harder questions. They did anyway, on the record, knowing a high school student would publish it. Everything on this site comes from those recorded conversations — and every quote is checked word for word against what was actually said before it goes anywhere near a page.
I would rather leave a good line out than put words in someone’s mouth. These women trusted me with their stories. Getting them right is the least I owe them.
Before You Start Reading
Every woman I have interviewed described some version of not being sure she belonged. Every single one — physicians, a physician assistant, a nurse practitioner, occupational therapists, a nurse anesthetist, an oncology nurse, a dentist. Women with decades behind them, at the top of their fields.
So if you are feeling it right now, it is not a signal about you. It is the most common experience in this profession, and not one of these women let it stop her. That is not encouragement. It is what they told me.
A Note About The Women Here
None of them had to say any of this. They were asked hard questions and they answered honestly, on the record, knowing I would publish it — the exam she struggled with, the role she did not get, the morning someone shouted at her on her first day in an operating room.
Those specifics are the entire reason this page is worth anything to you. A careful, general answer would have been safer for every one of them and useful to nobody. That candor is the gift, and I do not take it lightly.
Four stages, in the order they arrive. Open the one you are living in.
Many of my guests are Indian-American. None of them called it forced. None called it entirely her own idea either. What separates them is the distance between what was suggested and what was chosen — and every one of them still had to do the choosing.
This is the question I get asked most by people my age, and the answers I have been given cut against almost everything we are normally told about finding your passion.
More than one guest has described catching a wrong fit and correcting it — in medical school, in pharmacy school, on a single four-week rotation, and in one case out of direct clinical work altogether. None of them treated the correction as a failure. Dr. Sapna Patel gave me a method for noticing, and Nora Katurakes gave me the test for whether a change is worth making at all.
Four guests hold four different qualifications, and not one of them is doing the job that qualification is assumed to lead to. This is the hurdle I have thought about the most myself.
That was the choosing. Arriving turned out to be a different problem entirely.
Every single guest, without exception, described this. It shows up first in school, and I want to be honest about what comes later: it does not end here. You will see this same hurdle again in Stage Four, decades later, because that is what the women told me.
This one is not in your head and it is not something you outgrow on schedule. Nirja Patel still gets it twenty years in — and her answer is not to wait for people to come around.
Two guests handled a hostile encounter the same underlying way — by reading it as information about the situation rather than as a verdict on themselves.
This came up unprompted in almost every episode I have recorded, and it is the one skill every guest called essential that not one of them was formally taught. When I asked Dr. Patel-Pannullo directly whether medical school teaches it, the answer was blunt.
Every woman answered this differently, and that is the finding. This is the hurdle where I have found the least agreement — which I think means there is no single right answer to it. The newest answers widen it further: a mentor does not have to be one person, and does not have to outrank you.
The most useful answer anyone has given me on this came out of something Dr. Sapna Patel was taught as a child, and it resolves what looks like a contradiction: how to forgive yourself without letting yourself off.
Nobody hands you a number for this, so I asked for one. Three guests gave me an answer, and all three are longer than you would like to hear and far less frightening than they sound.
Four guests in four different professions described the same thing: having to explain what you do before you are allowed to do it. Not one of them treated that as an insult. All four treated it as part of the work.
Training ends. The hurdles do not — they change shape, and they start competing with the rest of a life.
Five women, five completely different exits from the same trap. None of them found balance by accident, and none found it early. This is the clearest evidence I have that there is no single correct answer — only the one that fits your life.
One guest lost the role. One got it. Putting them side by side says more than either does alone.
The same pressure, answered five different ways. One absorbed it for years. One refuses it outright. One says plainly that it never fully goes, however much support you have. And the two newest answers are both about subtraction — deciding in advance what you are not going to do.
Dr. Sapna Patel treats burnout as an engineering problem before it is an emotional one, which is a framing no other guest offered — and the women after her answer it from the opposite end, with what they do once the shift is over.
Dr. Sapna Patel drew a distinction nobody else has: the bias lands in a different place than you expect, and the two need completely different responses.
This began as the most uncomfortable thing anyone had told me — that the backing you expect from other women does not always arrive on its own. But every guest who named it also told me what she does instead, and that half is the useful one. The answer is not to expect it. It is to be the person supplying it.
One guest named this directly, and her answer turns the whole thing from a confrontation into a job description.
Decades on, the women here are still answering the question they first asked in Stage Two.
This is the same self-doubt from Stage Two, still here decades later — and that is the finding. Not one woman told me it went away. What changed was what they did with it, and how much of it they aimed at themselves.
Three guests here run something — a department, a practice, a prevention programme. Not one of them described leading as having authority over people. All three described it as making room for them.
I have asked a version of this question in every episode. The answers have been remarkably consistent, and none of them were about the work.
This is the last stage, and the one worth reading first. Everything these women would change happened decades before they could see it.
Every woman here worked out the same problems her own way, and no two answers match. That is the most useful thing I have found in these conversations — not one path, but permission to build your own.
Hear Them In Their Own Words →Whether you're a potential podcast guest, an admissions officer, or someone who wants to say hello — I'd love to hear from you.
✉ navina.v.patel@gmail.com