During the first two years of medical school, on several occasions I was certain I was suffering from some dread disease. This feeling was particularly bothersome during the spring semester of my first year of medical school school, from early January to June, 1966. The Spring semester in Indiana is fraught with cold, snowy, wintry days from January to late March followed by the rainy, gray, chilly days of March, April, and May when it just refuses to be warm. These environmental downers coupled with a stressful workload, sleep deprivation, and Neuroanatomy conspired to play tricks with my mind.
Neuroanatomy was one of the more challenging courses taken during medical school. The anatomy of the nervous system is far more complex than the “general” anatomy, or “gross anatomy,” of the rest of the body. The nervous system has many anatomic peculiarities, and when these oddities malfunction, or get “sick,” one must know Neuroanatomy to understand what’s going on and why.
A huge part of learning Neuroanatomy is the inclusion and explanation of neurologic symptoms and explaining what will happen to a person when a part of the central nervous system is disrupted by a disease. Thus you learn about dozens of neurologic syndromes. Sometimes, when you’re tired, frustrated, and stressed the headache you’ve had for a day or two becomes a brain tumor, or you imagine your hands are shaking abnormally and you wonder if you have Parkinson’s Disease.
These “vivid delusions” are very common and lead to a form of “temporary hypochondria” called the Medical School Syndrome. You’re studying something intensely and learning about its signs and symptoms, when BAM! you imagine you have the disease—when you really don’t. We are vulnerable, suggestible, and flat out tired and stressed out, and we’re sure we have some dread disease we just read about.
The Medical School Syndrome fortunately has a cure, and that is common sense and rational thinking. The wary student comes to his senses and realizes he’s actually fine and is as healthy as ever. The symptoms go away, or at least the delusional aspect of it ceases, and he/she goes back to preparing for tomorrow’s test.
From this experience, the student/doctor-to-be learns about himself and becomes more sympathetic and understanding of patients with both real and hypochondriacal symptoms. Medical School Syndrome is a real syndrome. I know! I had it. It is temporary, but worrisome. However, educational maturity gets rid of the problem.
Reference: Loudin A. Why med students think they’re dying —(when they are not). Medscape 2026 February 9.
