Should Medical School last 3 years? If so, which 3?

As we look at how to increase the number, and percent, of students entering primary care residency programs, it is interesting to see how some schools have creatively tried to address the problem. Texas Tech University Medical School and Mercer University Medical School’s Savannah campus have begun to offer MD degrees in 3 years to a select group of students who are both high performers and planning on Family Medicine careers, thus decreasing their indebtedness (one less year of school to pay for) and getting them into family medicine residencies, and several other schools are considering the same. They do this by essentially eliminating the fourth year of medical school. This is the subject of a piece by surgeon Pauline Chen, “Should medical school last just 3 years?” in the New York Times. She discusses different perspectives on the fourth year, previous experiences with reducing the length of medical school training, and two ‘point-counterpoint’ essays on the topic in the New England Journal of Medicine.

Chen addresses prior efforts to shorten medical school, including the most recent precursor of this current one. Specifically aimed at increasing the number of highly-qualified students entering Family Medicine residencies, it was implemented in several in the 1990s, and allowed students to effectively combine their 4^th year of medical school with their first year of family medicine residency, thus completing both in 6 years. The programs were successful by all criteria. Students did well on exams and were able to save a year of tuition money, and medical schools were able to retain some of their best students into family medicine. Of course, therefore, the programs were stopped. In this case the villain was the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education, which decreed that the fact that because students did not have their MD when they started residency training (it was granted after the first year, a combined 4^th year of medical school and internship) they were ineligible for residency training. Thus this newest iteration offers the MD degree after three years.

An older effort to shorten medical school is also mentioned, one with which I have personal experience. In the 1970s ”as many as 33 medical schools began offering a three-year M.D. option to address the impending physicians shortages of the time.” One of those was Loyola-Stritch School of Medicine, in which the only curriculum was 3 years. In 1973, I was in the second class entering that program. We spent 12 months in ‘basic science’, pretty much just in classes in the mornings, and then two full years in clinical training. Chen writes that “While the three-year students did as well or better on tests as their four-year counterparts, the vast majority, if offered a choice, would have chosen the traditional four-year route instead.” I have no idea where she gets this impression; it is certainly not at all my memory. Our friends across town at the University of Illinois went to school for two years of basic science, 8 hours a day to our 4. We did not envy that. As Chen notes, we did just as well on our exams, and saved a year’s tuition, and I daresay no one could tell the difference in the quality of the physicians graduating between the two schools, when they entered residency in 1976 or today after 37 years of practice. Again, it was all good.

And, again, it was stopped. Why? Of course, the experiment only led to one additional class of physicians being produced (after that, it was still one class per year) so that benefit expired, but what about the other benefits that I have cited? Why wasn’t the program continued? Chen hits the nail on the head in her next paragraph: “The most vocal critics were the faculty who, under enormous constraints themselves to compress their lessons, found their students under too much pressure to understand fully all the requisite materials or to make thoughtful career decisions.” In particular, the basic science faculty who taught the first two-years-now-compressed-into-one of school. The fact that students did just fine on USMLE Step 1 and became good doctors was apparently insufficient to convince them. They made arguments like the one above, shifting the problem from to the students (“they” were under too much pressure) rather than that the faculty felt the pressure. I can’t remember anyone wishing they had another year to spend in basic science lectures.

The truth is that there is no magic amount of basic science time educational time needed to become a doctor. The amount of time needed is the amount necessary to either: (1) learn enough to pass USMLE 1, a fine utilitarian standard, or (2) learn the key pieces of basic science information that every physician needs to know in order to be able to practice quality medicine. If there are some basic science faculty might bridle at the idea of #1 (“Teach to the test? Moi?”), trying to identify what comprises #2 is a lot of work. It is easier to teach what we have always taught, what the instructors know about. If the reason for more time were the amount of basic science knowledge, then what required two years 35 years ago would require 10 or more years to teach now, because so much more is known. That is not feasible. The right answer is #2, but getting folks to do it is hard.

Chen quotes Dr. Stanley Goldfarb, lead author of the perspective piece against three-year programs as saying “You can’t pretend to have a great educational experience without spending time on the educational experience,”  which is of course true but begs the question of what those experiences should be. If we are going to decrease the length of time students are in medical school, it makes much more sense to reduce the amount of time spent in learning basic science factoids that most will forget after USMLE 1 (reasonable enough, since they will never need most of that information again) and focus on adult learning by teaching that information that all physicians do need to know. This effort requires clinicians having major involvement in the decision about what that is. It makes much less sense to remove one of the years of clinical training; what should be done is that training should be augmented, become less about vacations and “audition clerkships” and more about learning.  Why this is unlikely to happen, of course, has nothing to do with educational theory or the quality of physicians produced and everything to do with medical school politics. There is no constituency on the faculty for the fourth year, and a strong basic science faculty constituency for the first two.

Yes, we need more primary care doctors, lots of them, and we may need more doctors altogether, to help meet the health needs of the American people, and we need them soon. Data from the Robert Graham Center of the American Academy of Family Physicians (AAFP)[1] (attached figure) show the projected increase in need, including the one-time bump from the ACA, which will bring a large number of people who have not had access into care, and the longer-term need from population growth and aging. Programs that increase the number of primary care doctors (like the 6-year family medicine programs of the 1990s) are good. Programs that decrease the number of years by reducing basic science courses rather than clinical times obviously make more sense from the point of view of having well-trained doctors. (Programs like the 3-year option at NYU which is not even geared to training more primary care are, from this point of view, irrelevant.) We need to have these not be pilots, but scaled up to produce more clinically well trained primary care doctors.

And we need to do it soon. Medical school turf battles should not be the determinant of America’s health.

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[1] Petterson SM, et al., “Projecting US Primary Care Physician Workforce Needs: 2010-2025”, doi: 10.1370/afm.1431 Ann Fam Med November/December 2012 vol. 10 no. 6 503-509

The "Annual Physical": Screening, equity, and evidence

Three articles in the NY Times over a two-day period addressed the circumstances of a person’s (or, in medical parlance, “the patient’s”) visit to the doctor and their expectations. On Sunday, June 3, “Let’s (not) get physicals” by Elizabeth Rosenthal called into question the American habit (?) belief (?) that there is something called an “annual physical” that everyone should get to maintain their health, even if they are not having any symptoms. Rosenthal says that they are not necessary, and can even be harmful, and that the US is virtually alone in the world in perpetuating this idea.

She supports her argument by going through a list of tests frequently done at these visits that are not recommended by the US Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) and many other expert bodies. These include screening for prostate cancer with prostate-specific antigen (PSA) tests, routine electrocardiograms (EKGs, or sometimes more correctly, ECGs), Pap smears (should be done for most women every 3 years, and not at all for women under 21, or for those over 65 if they have had 3 previous normals). She doesn’t specifically address the actual physical examination part of the “physical” but there is little to no evidence to support this either. (And that is pretty much true of pre-participation physicals for school and sports also.) She indicates that the Canadian government recommends against these exams, noting that they are “potentially harmful,” and discusses the “Choosing Wisely” campaign of the American Board of Internal Medicine Foundation, which I recently discussed ("Eggs Benedict" and "Choosing Wisely": often the best thing to do is nothing,” April 14, 2012).

“Potentially harmful”? Yes, of course. When a screening test is positive, it is then necessary to do a confirmatory test (usually more difficult, expensive, uncomfortable, risky or all of the above than the screening test, which is why it wasn’t done in the first place) and this may lead to other procedures – biopsies, surgery, etc. We tend to think of this as good if we have the disease, but if we don’t we incur cost, risk, and sometimes actual harm in looking for it. Indeed, sometimes even if we do have the disease, the complications of the investigation can lead to worse outcomes that the disease we are looking for. Which is why no test should be ”routine”.

The right term is “screening,” which means testing for something for which you have no symptoms, and it should be reserved for conditions that are potentially serious, can be identified by testing before symptoms appear, and for which there is an intervention that is not only effective but is more effective when done before the symptoms appear. None of this relates to tests done when you have symptoms, or have a diagnosis, and are being tested to follow up on treatment. For example: a screening blood count (CBC) to look for anemia in asymptomatic people is not indicated, but it might be if you are tired and pale. And if you are anemic and are treated (say, with iron), further testing to see if it worked – if you are no longer anemic – is appropriate.

The next day (June 4) two pieces appeared in the paper. In “The trouble with ‘Doctor knows best’”, Peter Bach also discusses screening tests that are not indicated and the puzzling fact that many doctors do them anyway. He attributes this to a combination of 1) this is what they learned from their teachers, 2) their concern because of “bad things” they have seen before in their practices, and 3) our instincts that make us “apply these [cancer screening] tests as if they were treatments, as if getting a mammogram were somehow like prescribing an antibiotic.” He shows how all of these are, or can be, wrong. The first should be obvious to all of us: the state of the art and of medical knowledge has often, indeed likely, changed from when we learned from our mentors. We need to keep up with current information, based on the most recent data available.

The second and the third are maybe a little harder to understand. With regard to #2, we, even doctors, remember what is unusual, not what is usual, and we tend to think that “had we only done that test, the bad outcome might have been prevented” when it usually would not have. #3 has to do with the difference between treating a condition that we have diagnosed and screening asymptomatic people. For almost all conditions, the percent of people who actually have them is so low that a majority of the people who have positive screening tests will actually be false positives. The physician’s anecdotal experience, never a substitute for the actual population data, may have value in the treatment of a condition she sees frequently, but virtually none with regard to screening.

The third article, “Afraid to speak up at the doctor’s office” by Pauline Chen, which was published also on June 4 but originally appearing earlier on Dr. Chen’s blog, talks about the reticence of people (even, as she describes, intelligent, successful, and generally empowered people) to not only not question their doctor’s recommendations, but to not even ask questions. This is something I have seen over and over again with friends and relatives, who don’t want to bother the doctor, or, worse, have gotten the message that Dr. Chen’s friend did that “’I don’t really feel comfortable bringing it [her concern about her symptoms] up,’…While her doctor was generally warm and caring, ‘he seems too busy and uninterested in what I feel or want to say.’”  Dr. Chen cites an article from a recent Health Affairs, “Authoritarian Physicians And Patients’ Fear Of Being Labeled ‘Difficult’ Among Key Obstacles To Shared Decision Making”[1]which shows this is a really common problem.

How much this is due to doctors being “authoritarian” rather than simply “authoritative,” or due to the physician being very busy (despite being “caring”) and wanting to cut short potentially time-consuming conversations, I do not know, but it is not a good thing. Nor, of course, is it good for patients to be hostile or to treat the physician as if she were a retail store where you just put in an order for what you want. Shared decision making requires collaboration, but, as in all situations with unequal power (student-teacher, employee-employer, etc.) it is primarily the responsibility of the party with greater power – in this case the physician – to take primary responsibility for ensuring that they are open to and welcoming of sharing. This is not the same as becoming a rug for a demanding patient to walk on, just as a patient being aggressive is not the same thing as being assertive. But as this study shows, the absence of shared decision making is much more often a failure on the part of the physician to encourage it.

Annual exams are more complicated. Dr. Rosenthal is absolutely right in pointing out the lack of indications for many of the screening tests that we often do, and in the incorrectness of the myth of the “annual physical”. On the other hand, such visits, whether annual or less often, serve another purpose. They offer the physician a chance to talk to the patient, to ask questions about real or potential health risks that the patient may not have bothered to bring up because it didn’t seem “worth bothering the doctor about” or because they weren’t sure that they could talk to the doctor about it. The latter includes “sensitive” topics such as domestic violence, abortion, sexual health, drugs, etc. It also is a time that doctor and patient can discuss health risks and what the patient can do for themselves to minimize their risks, from smoking and alcohol and drugs to safe sex and bicycle helmets and healthful foods.

Indeed, this is the main use of a “school physical” for sports – not to really identify physical problems that put a student at risk, but as an opportunity to talk to adolescents, a group that doesn’t often come to the doctor, about their health behaviors. Dr. Rosenthal says “I respect my doctors, but I see them only when I’m sick.” But she adds “I religiously follow schedules for the limited number of screening tests recommended for women my age — like mammograms every two years and blood pressure checks — but most of those do not require a special office visit.” However, she is a doctor; a lot of people don’t know what is indicated without guidance, and may not be so “religious” about doing those things without encouragement.

The biggest problem, as I have said many times, is that do these unnecessary-and-potentially-harmful tests for patients with good insurance, going to extremes with even more and more expensive and more un-indicated tests for “executive physicals” when a company is paying, but not do even the most strongly-recommended tests for poor and uninsured people. These people may never get to the doctor until they are very sick.

This absurd inequity, too much testing for some and too little for others, based not on patient preference but class, income and insurance status, is the true scandal. While there is clearly much else to do, a universal health insurance program is the obvious first step.

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[1] Frosch DL, et al., Authoritarian Physicians And Patients’ Fear Of Being Labeled ‘Difficult’ Among Key Obstacles To Shared Decision Making, Health Affairs May2012;31(5):1030-8.

Do resident work hours limits create better physicians?

On a few previous occasions (e.g., Student Debt, Resident Hours, and Primary Care Redux, Jan 2, 2009) I have written about the issue of medical residents’ work hours and the implications that it had, good or bad, for patient care. A recent article in the British Medical Journal (BMJ) by Moonesinghe et al, “Impact of reduction in working hours for doctors in training on postgraduate medical education and patient outcomes: systematic review”, provides the most thorough review to date of studies evaluating the impact of work hours reductions for medical residents in the US and the United Kingdom, where they are even more stringent. They looked at studies examining both “training” (how are the residents learning?) and patient quality and safety.

This was not an easy task; true “meta-analysis” (grouping all the studies together as if they were one and re-analyzing the data) was not possible because they were so different in methodology, issues studied, and quality. In fact, the quality of most of the studies was not terribly high, and they often looked at several different outcomes making it hard to understand whether the changes all went one way, or there were some things that were better and some worse and whether the net result could be stronger (or weaker) if we could focus on only one at a time.

The good news for those who have implemented, supported, and argued for the work hours restrictions is that they seem to have improved the private life of residents, and to have not significantly harmed either the quality of training or patient care, at least insofar as these somewhat contradictory studies seem to indicate. Most of the studies were done in the US, and most were of surgical (28 of 41) or “hospital-based” (e.g., anesthesiology, critical care) trainees, rather than primary care.

Here are some of the results:

Training outcomes:

·    2 papers (both of “low methodological quality”, one of medical residents in the UK and one of surgical residents in the US, which “did not report statistical analyses of the results”) reported an improvement in training outcomes.

·   12 studies found a detrimental association; half from the US (all surgical) and half from the UK.

·    27 studies found no change (20 US and 7 UK)

·    There were also mixed results regarding the quality of “training opportunities” (exam scores, caseload)

Patient outcomes:

·    31 of 34 papers were US

·    4 studies showed improved patient outcomes, including the only randomized controlled trial in the group (note: this was in critical care and coronary care units, where shift work may arguably be more effective)

·    2 studies (in trauma and orthopedics) found increased complications

·    28 studies showed no significant difference

Surgeon and NY Times writer Pauline Chen commented on this article in “Is a well-rested doctor a better doctor?”, April 7, 2011. She describes talking with a surgical resident she knows who is very pleased at how much better her life is than she had feared. “’Training has changed a lot…My life is different than yours was — I have a lot of time outside the hospital.’ She described how she loved her work but was able to sleep at home most nights, go out regularly with friends, stay involved with her church and take an improv class.”  Cool. It is good to know that surgical residents are not acting as slaves, and can have some kind of life outside the hospital.

However, her resident friend was less sure about learning and patient care: “’To be honest, I don’t really know if this is better or worse,’ she said, recounting how she felt she was signing over responsibility for her patients more often than she ever imagined she would, missing key events in their hospital course and even getting dismissed during the middle of a patient’s operation in order to stay within the limits on work hours. ‘Sometimes it seems so counterintuitive to just sign out as if we were shift workers, but this is all any of us know right now…We have nothing to compare it to.’”

So, probably, as Dr. Chen observes, the discussion will go on. Those who believe that working longer hours results in tired physicians and therefore bad patient outcomes will continue to push those ideas; those who (largely, it seems, surgeons) believe that artificial limits on work hours compromise resident learning, thus not only having a negative impact on their current care of patients but, more importantly, their care of patients in the future care because they haven’t had sufficient experience in their residencies. One “side” says “Do you want to be operated on by a surgeon who has been up all night?”, while the other says “Do you want to be operated by a surgeon who is not as skilled because they were coddled in their training and didn’t get sufficient experience?”

“The most important test of success of postgraduate training,” say Moonesinghe and colleagues, “is the professional performance of those who reach the end of it.” They go on to make several suggestions, including, most importantly I believe, that “a consensus should be reached by the medical profession on appropriate measures to assess the quality of postgraduate medical training.” They agree with the assertion (from Temple, et al, “Time for training. A review of the impact of the European Working Time Directive on training 2010”) that “training is patient safety for the next 30 years”. Wise regulation must understand the balance, the risk-benefit of any change, and try to reach the greatest benefit with the least risk.

I would like to comment a bit upon the issues as they relate, in particular, to primary care training. Most of the studies that have been done have been on surgical specialties, which can measure surgical complications, deaths or morbidity, or in anesthesiology or critical care, because these are hospital based and more amenable to shift work. While a very few of the studies were in pediatrics, they also examined hospital work; none were looking at the training of primary care or family doctors. One of the other reasons that the surgical specialties have been so studied is that they have long been those with the longest work hours; thus, they are both the greatest target of reformers and the greatest resistance by current surgeons and teachers who fear that work hours restrictions will jeopardize the skill of their future colleagues.

The irony is that, as in so many areas, when laws or rules are being violated by one group, they are tightened on everyone, and those who were not violators of the old rules find their greater restrictions to comply with while, often, those who were violating it before continue to. In the 1970s when I was in training at Cook County Hospital, we had a resident union (yes!) and were limited to every-4^th-day overnight call. But the surgeons were on more often. If family medicine or internal medicine or pediatrics violated the rule, they were penalized, but the surgery residents were afraid to complain. And so, today, the violations of hours rules in some specialties increases the restrictions for all.

The problem with applying these rigid rules to primary care is that it is not shift-based. While residents spend time on inpatient services, the core of family medicine training is the continuity clinic where those doctors-in-training follow their own patients. It is important to be able to do this, to show up for your office hours to see your patients who are expecting to see you, even if you were up much of the night delivering the baby of one of your patients. If that happened every day, it would be a big problem, but it doesn’t. Yet there is a “zero tolerance” for work hour violations by the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education (ACGME), so the program would be cited. Rigid cut-offs, indiscriminately applied, are a bad idea.

Residents should have work hour restrictions; they shouldn’t be on call every third night and up all night. They should get days off, should get time to spend with friends and family or sleeping. But the restrictions need to regulate hours in a more global fashion: hours in a week, days off in a week, average or typical number of hours off between shifts. They should not be counting minutes (and they currently do!), not create automatic violations for each instance in which, say, a resident returns to clinic after only 9 ½  instead of 10 hours off. They also should be specialty-specific, examining the character of the specialty’s practice, not to allow exploitation but to make them appropriate to how the specialty is practiced.

Some fields, like ER and critical care, work well with shifts. Some, like most hospital work that characterizes internal medicine and pediatrics training, generally work pretty well with “night floats” and days off, as long as there is careful attention paid to information transfer at the shift changes (“hand-offs”). Surgery may require longer shifts with more days off. And family medicine needs to allow residents to occasionally deliver their babies at night without canceling all the patients on their schedule the next day, as long as it is not the everyday norm.

We can do this rationally. We can have training that both provides time for the non-work lives of residents and good training for their careers; that ensures quality care of their patients now and in the future.

Primary Care’s Image: A Problem?

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Pauline Chen, a transplant surgeon and respected author of “Final Exam: A surgeon’s reflections on mortality” (Vintage Books) also write a “Doctor and Patient” column for the New York Times. On November 12, 2009, the topic was “Primary Care’s Image Problem”, in which she talks about the decreasing interest in primary care among medical students, and the perception among many, increased by many faculty members, that primary care was a backup to more “prestigious subspecialties…like dermatology, orthopedics, plastic surgery or radiology.” In particular, she talks of Kerry, one of her classmates, who wanted to (and did) enter primary care “despite” being at the top of her class, and how this amazed her friends. Dr. Chen addresses the attractions of the “ROAD” (radiology, ophthalmology, anesthesiology, and dermatology) to financial success as well as greater prestige, and the challenges it presents for having an adequate supply of primary care physicians.

While scarcely optimistic (“But even with current legislative efforts to address educational debt, payment discrepancies and lifestyle differences, many medical educators worry that the results will not be enough….Why? It is due to an issue deeper than money and paperwork. While the frisson of continually advancing treatments and approaches to patient care seem to envelope most other specialties, the image of primary care remains one of a vaguely anachronistic practice — a group of doctors who do not stand on the forefront of creative change and who are continually left holding the biggest bag of administrative expectations and clinical care coordination and demands.”), she also notes that “That image, however, may be changing”.

Dr. Chen attended a meeting of the Association of Deans and Directors for Primary Care, held in conjunction with the annual meeting of the Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC) in Boston on November 9, 2009, where the discussion focused largely on changes in the type of practice, particularly in the creation of a “medical home” and a team approach to care. She quotes organization chair Bruce Gould, MD, of the University of Connecticut: “In a patient-centered medical home, I would not be the sole proprietor. Sometimes I would be the leader because of my specific skill set. But if we were dealing with adherence to diabetes care, the team’s social worker might be the leader….With a team approach each of us is freed up to practice at the top of our scope of training. And that leads to better patient outcomes and more job satisfaction.”

I admit that I found it somewhat frustrating, having been in the room, that the 3 physicians Dr. Chen quotes are all general internists, despite the fact that at least half the participants in the meeting and 2 of the 5 speakers were family doctors. I agree with the general theme expressed by many that it is important for primary care doctors to work together and not fight, but there are important differences in these specialties. In addition to the fact that family doctors care for adults and children and often pregnant women, the breadth of their practice makes them more suitable for rural practice, where there may be only a few doctors. While most family doctors do not practice in rural areas, about 20% do, which is comparable to the percent of the overall population; indeed, family medicine is the only specialty that “distributes” according to where people live.

More important for this discussion is that virtually all family physicians practice primary care, thus it is the primary care “bellwether”, going up more when student interest in primary care is up, and down more when it is down. Internal medicine, on the other hand, offers those who complete its 3-year residency the option of entering primary care / general internal medicine practice (or hospitalist practice, which is not primary care) or continuing into a subspecialty fellowship (cardiology, gastroenterology, pulmonary medicine, etc.); it is thus less sensitive to these ups and downs. As I have discussed previously (most recently in “Rankings of medical schools: do they tell us anything?” on September 25, 2009), the trend for general internal medicine is definitely down. General pediatrics, the third primary care specialty, has not seen a decrease, although the distribution and career trajectories are an issue, as I have discussed in “Primary care, pediatrics, and physician distribution” on May 21, 2009. Indeed, facing a shortage of pediatric subspecialists, many pediatrics groups are trying to encourage subspecialization.

Dr. Chen’s article ended with some guarded optimism, and an invitation to join the discussion on Tara Parker-Pope’s “Well blog”, “Giving primary care more respect”. With 180 responses (by November 16), it is clear that there are a lot of opinions out there, from physicians, medical students, other health professionals, and the general public. I admit to adding my comments, and “plugging” my October 8, 2009 blog piece “`Uncomplicated’ Primary Care?”, where I argue that primary care is anything but uncomplicated.

I thought that some comments on this from medical students on this issue might be welcome. The following comments are from students who spent 6 weeks with rural family physicians in Kansas between their first and second years of medical school, from quotes they gave to a reporter from the Kansas Family Physician, publication of the Kansas Academy of Family Physicians:

“This summer, I learned that people don’t choose family medicine because they want an easy profession. They choose it because they want to be life-long learners and truly want to help the community. Their knowledge base and diagnostic ability is no less than any specialist. The only difference they think ‘big picture’, and don’t focus on any one organ system.”

“A young man in his mid-30s came into the clinic. He was a partial quadriplegic of 15 years from a car accident. He was not there complaining of any acute symptoms or any problems; he was just there because he wanted to find a new doctor…Out of curiosity, I asked him what he was looking for in a physician. His only reply was: ‘I want someone who cares about me, not for me.’”

“I could not help but be impressed with the enormity of information family physicians are expected to ideally know. We are talking about working with every organ system of the body and also understanding the procedures and diagnostic tests that go along with these systems.”

“I learned family medicine is not simply caring for patients with chronic health issues or diagnosing and treating the common cold. While family physicians do both of those things almost every day, they also provide a variety of other care. They can deliver babies, provide women’s health, perform EGDs and colonoscopies, manage chronic pain, and diagnose extraordinarily well in the acute setting, just to list a small amount of what they do weekly.”

“Nothing compared to the feeling I got watching a family physician take care of the mother during delivery, perform an emergency C-section, and then treat the infant all within the same day. The ability of a family doctor to care for both mother and child simultaneously made me truly appreciate the rich complexity of family medicine.”

“A family physician should be held in the highest regard among physicians, for he or she must have the patience of a geriatrician, the gentleness of a pediatrician, the courage of an ER physician, the steady hand of a surgeon, and a knowledge base of every medical specialty.”

There are more, and many of them – which maybe I’ll post later – specifically talk to the role of the rural family doctor. Remember, these are not a random sample of students; they elected to do this experience. Many of them are from rural backgrounds and many are also planning careers in family medicine. All of them, having just finished their first year of medical school, have a long way to go before deciding on their specialty, and undoubtedly some will take some variant of the “ROAD”. We know from recent research that empathy takes a nose dive in the third year of medical school (“Are we training physicians to be empathic? Apparently not”, Sept 12, 2009).

However, it is great to hear these attitudes and know that at least among some students family medicine and primary care do not have an “image problem.” We can only hope that it persists in them, and in their peers. Hope, and do everything we can to foster it.
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