Carol Sandy has heard it before. A student walks into the Office of Learner Affairs (OLA), sometimes weeks into their first year, sometimes further along, and says some version of the same thing: I don't know why I'm struggling. I've never struggled before.
It's the paradox at the heart of medical school. The students who make it through the door at Temerty Faculty of Medicine are, almost without exception, high achievers. They've built their lives around performing well under pressure. And then they arrive somewhere that demands something different from them - and the tools that got them here stop working the way they used to.
"What got you here is not necessarily what will carry you through," Carole told me when we spoke recently.
She's a Learner Life Specialist in Temerty's Office of Learner Affairs, a role that puts her at the intersection of academic support, personal well-being, and the quieter, harder-to-name challenges that medical students face but rarely talk about.
OLA is easy to misunderstand from the outside. It sounds like an academic support office, and it is, in part. But when Carole describes her work, the scope is considerably broader. Students come to her navigating difficult dynamics. Others are working through major life transitions: new financial pressures, changing relationships, family responsibilities that don't pause because clerkship started. Some arrive at her door simply because they've been white-knuckling it alone for too long and finally ran out of steam.
"We support students beyond academics," she said. "Because life doesn't pause during medical school."
What she's describing is something closer to a thinking partner than a counsellor - someone who can help a student name what's actually going on, figure out what kind of support would help, and connect them with the right resources when the need goes beyond her scope.
One of the patterns Carole sees most reliably in incoming students is the tendency to measure themselves against their peers. It's understandable, they've spent years in competitive environments where relative performance mattered. But in medical school, it becomes a drain.
"Students start comparing their progress, overplanning future milestones, and losing sight of where they actually are," she said.
Her advice cuts against the grain of how most high achievers are wired: be present. Not as a wellness platitude, but as a practical strategy. Medical training moves fast, and students who are perpetually living two steps ahead of themselves miss critical learning that's happening right now. It's deceptively hard advice to follow. But Carole says it's one of the most important shifts students can make.
There's another conversation Carole finds herself having regularly, one that speaks to something more fundamental than study habits or time management. Even among students who are performing well by every objective measure, doubt creeps in. The environment is intense. Everyone around you is capable. Small stumbles feel larger than they are.Part of Carole's role is helping students reconnect with the thread that brought them here in the first place.
"Do you remember how you got here?" she said. "It wasn't by mistake."
It sounds simple, but for a student in the middle of a hard stretch, it can function as a genuine reorientation, a reminder that the foundation they built to earn their place at Temerty hasn't disappeared. It's still there.
Perhaps the most important thing Carole wants incoming students to understand is that support at Temerty is not a rescue service. You don't have to be failing, or falling apart, to walk through the door. The OLA runs an initiative called Check Your Pulse - a low-stakes, brief touchpoint designed to normalize exactly this kind of early engagement. The idea is that checking in when things are fine is just as valid as checking in when they're not.
"You don't have to wait until something is wrong to come in," Sandy said.
For students trained to equate asking for help with admitting weakness, this reframe matters. The most effective use of support isn't reactive, it's part of how you sustain performance over time.
Carole is clear-eyed about the fact that medical school is not the finish line. The students she works with will go on to careers that are long, demanding, and full of their own unexpected challenges. What she hopes they take with them isn't just a degree , it's a set of instincts. Knowing when you need support. Knowing how to ask for it. Knowing that doing so is a sign of self-awareness, not weakness.
"We want you to be successful, not just today, but throughout your career," she said.
It's a longer game than most students are thinking about when they walk in on day one. But it's the one Sandy is always playing.
To hear Carol Sandy speak about student support in her own words, watch the full conversation Meet OLA.