Creativity

“Creativity involves breaking out of established patterns in order to look at things in a different way.”

Edward de Bono

Part of the New Year’s resolution I shared with you all was that I want to read more. I can proudly report I’ve read four books for fun since the beginning of the year, though my medical reading has some catching up to do. Reading has been a great way to pass time on rotations (Am I the only one who is sad this seems so long ago now?). Lately, it’s helped to take my mind off of the Stay at Home world we are currently living in. One of the books I read recently is Dare to Lead by Brené Brown, and I’m in love with it. It breaks down the barriers we put around ourselves that prevent us and our teams from reaching our full potential. She then demonstrates how we can combat these tendencies to become courageous leaders.

One observation she presented, which I think is all too recognizable, at least in my world as a medical student is the following: “We reduce work to tasks and to-dos, then spend our time ensuring that people are doing exactly what we want, how we want it- and then constantly calling them out when they’re doing it wrong… [This] leads us to strip work of its nuance, context and larger purpose.” Doesn’t that sound like the “cog in a machine” feeling so many healthcare providers have lamented against for years? We are continually bogged down by the EMR, insurance red tape and institutional bureaucracy, and what was our vocation has been reduced to a series of checklists. We’ve become so focused on things being done to the letter and putting up policy and protocols that the creativity and art have been stripped from our work.

Here is an example of how this plays out for us as medical students on rotations. When beginning a new service, students are often given little guidance for tailoring our patient presentations to the setting we are working in. Often, attending physicians are unsure of what we know, what experiences we’ve had or where our strengths lie. Residents are perpetually busy, trying to complete many tasks at once, and don’t often have time to sit down to orient us. When we do our best with what limited info we have, but then are scolded for missing a detail or not performing how the listening party would like, it’s easy to feel defeated. After I experienced similar situations, there were definitely moments where I questioned my abilities and was certainly less likely to speak up. Talk about impostor syndrome rearing its ugly head. Thankfully, those feelings never lasted long because I have a strong support system and encouraging mentors so the balance tips way toward the positive.  

There’s nothing like a pandemic to upend how our medical education is being delivered. We’ve been given an opportunity to breathe new life into our profession. We have a moment to step back and question whether the status quo really is working for us. Spoiler alert: it isn’t. I’ve been inspired by the work my colleagues and I have been doing to put together a telehealth delivery system in our hospitals and how we’ve banded together to come up with creative ways to serve our community during this trying time. With courses being moved online, our board exams being postponed until who knows when, and the uncertainty around the timeline of our residency applications, we have a chance to step back and consider what medical education will look 20 years from now. Do we want it to be the same, or dare we create something better?

We have the opportunity to shift our focus from filling our brains with outdated trivia that has little clinical relevance, to learning the art of medicine. Let’s immerse students in clinical care early so they can learn from patients and identify areas of interest. Let’s foster creativity and innovation by promoting inventive spirits and humanism in medicine. Let’s make learning clinically relevant so we can develop our clinical reasoning skills. Let’s help students identify mentors to uncover and build their strengths, coach them along their medical education journey and advise them during the specialty selection and residency application process. I wouldn’t be in medical school if it weren’t for mentors. I certainly never thought I’d become a published author or present my research at a national conference, and had no idea I would be interested in MedEd. Thank goodness for mentors who see something in me, save me a seat at the table and encourage me to take advantage of every opportunity. One day, I hope to pay it forward.