Six Heads are Better than One
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Another day, another Arbor meeting...or twenty. =) After some riveting biochem studying in the AM, I headed to the med school for a meeting with my fellow Arbor Free Clinic managers.
I mentioned yesterday my abhorrence of red tape, but stepping into an administrative role, it becomes strikingly clear that there is often no other way around it. Frequently, the mere task of coordinating the schedules of multiple busy people in order to set up a meeting can delay progress for days or weeks, not to mention handling differences of opinion or other logistical roadblocks once you finally have everyone together in the same room.
Fortunately, I have the pleasure of working with three other exceptionally capable, dedicated and wonderful managers on the clinic this coming year, along with a terrific staff of Steering Committee members.
Later on in the afternoon, Kim, Asya and I met with three members of the Pacific Free Clinic management team to share ideas and discuss issues that affect both clinics. It was the first joint meeting we've had since the transition of leadership at the clinics, and it turned out to be extremely productive and beneficial (certainly for us, and I would hope for both sides!)
As relatively small and underfunded service organizations, we are constantly trying to boost our resources and make improvements without incurring significant monetary or personnel costs. It makes sense that we should work together toward achieving these goals, and hopefully our combined efforts will yield some positive results this year.
I am especially excited about the prospect of transitioning the clinics to an electronic medical record (EMR) system. I cannot even begin to count the number of times that we have been unable to find the chart for a returning patient (only to later discover it misfiled and buried under stacks of overflowing manila folders), or that illegible handwriting has left us with no means of contacting a patient who needs follow-up.
Not only would an EMR eliminate these problems, but it would also allow us to synchronize patient chart information with our online database, and generate a visit report for each patient, so that they have their own copy of the visit record, including their vital signs, diagnosis, results of lab tests, medications dispensed, and, importantly, any physician instructions. Still, as I alluded to earlier, the reality of implementing so large-scale a change is daunting at best (perhaps another instance where not letting the perfect become the enemy of the good should be the order of the day?)
With most of the afternoon consumed by meetings, I had just enough time to squeeze in another chapter and a quick run before heading off to a surprise birthday party for Carly, a friend in the first-year class.
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Over the course of the last two quarters, I've gotten to know quite a few of the first-year class for a couple of reasons--one being that I had the privilege of TAing two of their classes (Developmental Biology and Neurobiology), and another being that my boyfriend is in the first-year class as well (although he is NOT my boyfriend as a result of reason number one...which fact I always feel compelled to emphasize, lest cries of "scandal" go ringing through the air).
Having a small class size (86 per year), and the flexibility and opportunity to get involved in activities like teaching, make it really easy to meet people and get to know them well. And there is certainly no shortage of diverse, interesting, amazing, off-the-wall, you name it, people to meet here. It would be hard NOT to be inspired by the incredible things people are doing here and the life experiences they've had--from traveling to Mongolia with the Peace Corps, to teaching West African tribal dance, to having owned a construction company prior to starting medical school.
But I will be the first to admit that the same admirable ambition that is so rampant in this environment, can also be intimidating, and a little unsettling...particularly for someone such as myself, who really doesn't have it all (or any of it, really) figured out.
During my first year of medical school, I recall speaking with a faculty member in a highly competitive specialty, who pretty much implanted the notion in my head that if I were to have any chance of getting a coveted residency position in that field, I would have to begin doing research--and not just any research, mind you, but research in that specific field--immediately. And while I declined to take that advice, on the grounds that I was nowhere near certain that I would want to pursue that specialty, the lingering feeling of "am-I-doing-something-wrong-here" stayed.
What if I didn't choose a field right away, but eventually decided that I did want to pursue a competitive specialty? Would I have put myself at a disadvantage for residency because I didn't decide early enough and thus had less relevant experience than other applicants? But what if I committed myself to a field and a lab now, but later, perhaps after clerkships, discovered my true passion lay elsewhere? Then might not the time that I had spent on lab work have been better spent exploring other interests, or pursuing projects that had more personal meaning to me (but that I may have forsaken because residency applications were my top priority)?
These questions terrified and tormented me for a long time, until recently, when I had the good fortune of meeting and speaking with Dr. Kelley Skeff.
On the (great) advice of my boyfriend, Mark, I went to hear Dr. Skeff speak at a lecture in the Pathways in Medicine series, which is designed to be a forum in which faculty members speak candidly and in a small group setting about their journeys in the medical profession. Having heard that Dr. Skeff's research interests were in the area of medical education, and knowing that I have strong interest in teaching and the design of medical curriculum, Mark encouraged me to speak with Dr. Skeff about the field, and also about my concerns and doubts regarding finding a direction within medicine.
This turned out to be a wonderful idea, and not because Dr. Skeff gave me a direction to take, but because he emphasized to me that it was okay not to know. "Don't worry, let the path choose you," seems like such a simple message, but sometimes it really helps to hear it from someone else--particularly someone who's been through the process and who has ended up in a place that I'd like to be someday.
It's really something, how a brief conversation, a few encouraging words, can make such an impact on your mood, your attitude, your outlook. And I think that's part of what draws me to the practice of medicine--to be able to make that kind of a difference in the lives of your patients (and especially at a time when the vulnerability of illness makes what you say and how you say it monumentally influential). If I can impart that same hope and encouragement that Dr. Skeff gave me to my patients, I will have felt like my career was successful--regardless of the exact direction I've taken.
Well, I've veered irreparably off course now (having started off talking about the surprise party), so I'll leave you with a couple of pictures from Carly's birthday (which, by the way, was really fun, and a great opportunity to see a lot of people...as medical school progresses and things get busier and busier, time spent just hanging out becomes an ever more precious commodity).
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Posted at 11:41 PM
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