Dr. Kalet Wins the 2023 AAMC Award for Excellence in Medical Education

From the November 10, 2023 issue of the Transformational Times

Our Friend, Dr. Kalet, Wins the 2023 AAMC Award for Excellence in Medical Education

By the Transformational Times editors

Sometimes, it turns out that our friend is pretty spectacular. 

Our editorial group, including Adina Kalet, MD MPH, developed the Transformational Times during COVID and has kept TT’s wheels on the tracks over the past three years. As we did so, we became accustomed to Dr. Kalet’s insightful comments and wise direction at our weekly virtual meetings. We devoured her Director’s Corners. We tracked down content contributors that she suggested. With her unfailing humor and insight, she talked us through each issue and kept things moving forward. 

Sure, we knew that she had other responsibilities. After all, she was running the Institute. She had published three books, fourteen book chapters, and over 200 highly cited scientific articles. We knew she was principal investigator on NIH and NSF grants. Of course we were aware of her multi-institutional educational trials. Yeah, she seemed to know absolutely everyone in medical education on every continent. But, to us, she was just Adina, y’know? 

Of course, we probably should have had a clue that she was a superstar. After all, she did receive the National Award for Career Achievement in Medical Education from the Society for General Internal Medicine in 2019. She was given the National Board of Medical Examiners John P. Hubbard Award in 2023, recognizing her extensive contributions to the field of assessment in medical education. But, during our weekly meetings, she remained the epitome of a collegial servant leader.

The AAMC’s most prestigious award

It turns out that our friend is pretty amazing. On October 25, 2023, MCW gathered to watch as Adina’s reputation and body of work were recognized by the American Association of Medical College with the AAMC’s Award for Excellence in Medical Education. The award recognizes the “highest standards in medical education,” and honors an individual or a team “whose contributions have had a demonstrable impact on advancing medical education. It “recognizes the highest standards in medical education.” 

More than once, we heard that the Award for Excellence in Medical Education is the AAMC’s “most prestigious award.”

Adina’s comments

Unsurprisingly, Adina’s prerecorded acceptance comments focused on students, colleagues, and learners rather than on herself. “We are educating physicians,” she said. “That matters.”  She continued that, “academic medicine has been so good to me because I could be a physician, leader, scholar, and innovator all within the same career. That’s really a gift of the academic medical center environment.” She added, “I’m very moved to have been nominated. If you look back at the numerous people who have won this award, they are my heroes and role models. It is the team I want to be on.” 

It was delightful to see our friend’s effectiveness, thought leadership, and hard work recognized by her peers in medical education. She really is a superstar working among us and, we are certain, she is nowhere near the peak of her remarkable path. We are fortunate to have front row seats as she continues on a journey that will improve physician education now and far into the future. 

From the rest of the Transformational Times editorial team, including Himanshu Agrwawal, MD, Wendy Peltier, MD, Bruce Campbell, MD, Kathlyn Fletcher, MD, Karen Herzog, and Joy Wick.

Lessons Learned While Caring for Dying Veterans

Originally published in the July 22, 2022 issue of the Transformational Times (Focus: Geriatric and Palliative Medicine)

Lessons Learned While Caring for Dying Veterans 

Adrienne Klement, MD

Dr. Klement, who completed a fellowship in Hospice and Palliative Medicine, cares for Veterans at the Zablocki VAMC in Milwaukee. As we approach Veteran's Day, she shares two stories from the COVID-19 pandemic that show some of the lessons she has learned caring for her patients…

“These doctors have the hardest job in the world.” It was a cold January evening during the pandemic, and the Milwaukee VA ICU was buzzing with a symphony of ventilator alarms, bedside monitor alerts, the closing and opening of isolation carts, and staff conversing about patient care needs. 

Visitor restrictions were in full force. Despite the noise, the unit felt empty and stark with closed doors and without families at bedside, except for one room. I gowned up and greeted our dying patient, Mr. D, and his family. 

There were several grandchildren joining on Facetime. We (they) had twenty minutes. We all had to speak loudly through our N95s to be heard over the Vapotherm. Mr. D acknowledged he was very sick. We talked about his hopes and wishes, and he gave his loving family all the appreciation he could muster. He just wanted to hug his grandchildren. At the end of the conversation, his son hovered in close to him and said, “Dad, these doctors have the hardest job in the world—they have done everything they can to help you. You are going to die soon, we are here now, and we love you.”

Lesson number one: Sometimes, the best way to reach a patient is through a trusted and familiar face.

I could tell Mr. D was holding back tears throughout our conversation. I wondered if this suppression of emotion was something he had learned in the military, and what trauma he had been through in the past. Was it a sign of weakness to admit feelings of fear or sadness? Was he trying to stay strong in front of his family as a way to bear their grief? I noticed a few quiet tears of my own while in the room, and I couldn’t help but wonder if my reaction was acceptable, or if it was detrimental to my roles as comforter and healer. 

When I got home later that evening, I started to unpack my (unexpected) reaction further, realizing that my tears were complex. They were a reflection of empathy, as I recalled holding my mother’s hand as a teenager when she took her last breath. They embodied frustration with the end-of-life isolation protocols. And they were tears of immense gratitude for the life of service Mr. D gave to our country, and for the care given by his Oncology and ICU teams.

Lesson number two: Showing emotion in front of patients, colleagues, or families is part of healing, for all of us.

The appreciation given to us by our Veterans and their families is transformative. Medical training is a long road that comes with many sacrifices, but also deep bonds and human connection. 

I had the privilege of helping to take care of Mr. R, who had end-stage leukemia, in both a consultative role, and also as his primary Medicine attending. It was so special to me as a teacher, to witness my resident-in-training also provide exceptional care and supportive listening. Mr. R and his wife expressed their deep appreciation for the unique care that he gave, and all that our VA providers gave through to his dying day. 

As an educator, I felt fulfilled in witnessing our team experience the most rewarding aspect of practicing medicine, relationships with patients. Mr. R’s military and life stories were therapeutic for all of us, and he reminded us daily that we are caring for some of the most selfless and resilient servants in the world.

Lesson number three: Reflecting on our Veterans’ acts of service and life experiences through attentive listening and presence cultivates gratitude for our work.

I am grateful every day for the meaning that my work brings me. I am most thankful for our Veterans who have served our country, and from whom we have much more to learn.

Adrienne Klement, MD, is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Medicine, and is a faculty member in the Division of Geriatric and Palliative Medicine at MCW. She attends on the inpatient Internal Medicine and Palliative Care consult services at the Zablocki VAMC, where she was recognized in 2022 as "Employee of the Year."

Being a Parent and a Pediatrician

Originally published in the October 22, 2021 Transformational Times newsletter

Being a Parent and a Pediatrician

Cassie Ferguson, MD

Every weekday morning, I am confronted with my failure as a parent. Instead of filling my three kids’ lunchboxes with a colorful array of washed and cut, 100% organic, GMO-free fruits and veggies and a lean protein-packed sandwich cut into a dinosaur shape, I am typically frantically grabbing for a Dole fruit cup, an unnaturally colored yogurt tube, and a bag of Fritos. Guilt inevitably washes over me every time I shove a PB&J made with Skippy and grape jelly on white bread into their lunch boxes, and I cringe thinking about the teachers seeing what I knowingly

feed my children.

What you are to be, you are now becoming

–Carl Rogers

I don’t know if I feel this guilt more acutely as a pediatrician—as someone who spent nearly a decade learning about how to keep kids healthy and should “know better”—because I don’t have a different perspective to which I might compare. My first son, Ben, arrived two weeks after I graduated from pediatric residency. Will arrived as I finished my pediatric emergency. medicine fellowship, and Nick three years after I became an attending in the emergency department (ED) at Children’s. I became a mother as I learned to become a pediatrician.

While the guilt may be sharper, there were advantages to my training when it came to caring for my kids when they were little. The nurses in the well-baby nursery taught me how to swaddle a baby so that they couldn’t free their tiny little arms. I knew that 100°F was not a real fever. And I could assure my husband (and myself) that our child would eventually learn to pee in the potty.

There were distinct disadvantages, as well. I also learned about the randomness with which a four-year-old is struck with leukemia. About what it sounds like to hear a mother’s heart shatter when she learns her sixteen-year-old has died in the car crash. The health and safety ofmy own kids can feel so fragile; regularly witnessing the suffering of kids and their families makes it difficult to believe that my own kids would be spared, no matter the real odds.

Every system is perfectly designed to get the results it gets

–Arthur Jones

Most of the suffering that we witness as pediatricians, however, is not a result of random chance. Disparities in the utilization of health care services and in overall health spending, structural racism, and residential segregation that limits access to good schools, jobs, healthy food choices and green spaces for the majority of Black and Latino or Hispanic Americans directly translates to poor health outcomes for the families for which we care. Kids dying from gunshot wounds, physical abuse, asthma exacerbations, drug exposures; these deaths are not random. They are a result of the systems we have purposefully built in America and continue to support with our inaction.

A friend once described having a child as forever walking around with your heart on the outside of your body. As a mom and a pediatrician, I’ve discovered that my heart can be broken not only when my own child falls and breaks their arm, or is bullied at school, but by anything that harms children anywhere. I have come to see this as our superpower—this tenderness and vulnerability spurs my colleagues to fight courageously for the radical redesign of our systems.

We are called to disrupt the cycle of interpersonal violence in our communities, to address food insecurity in our ED, to protest the attempt to ban books about racism from our schools, and to ensure that the way we treat acute pain is equitable.

Hope is the thing with feathers

–Emily Dickinson

This calling can feel overwhelming, particularly when I am in the ED managing twenty very sick patients and a full waiting room, and then receiving a page heralding the imminent arrival of yet another child with a gunshot wound. On those nights nothing we do feels like enough; it feels as if we are digging a hole in the sand as the walls are caving in around us.

On those nights, I come home defeated, or angry, or fearful; overwhelmed with the perspective on how dangerous the world can be for our most vulnerable citizens and feeling powerless to protect both my patients and my own kids.On those nights I come home to my kids and peer into their dark bedrooms, staring at their sleeping forms from the door, surprised at how easy and regular their breath comes. I renew

my vow to do what I can to make them feel safe and loved and find grace in the belief that this love is perhaps more communal than I realize.

Cassie Ferguson, MD, is an Associate Professor of Pediatrics (Emergency Medicine) at MCW. She is the Associate Director of the Robert D. and Patricia E. Kern Institute for the Transformation of Medical Education.

Writing is a Deep Conversation

Originally published in the 10/29/2021 issue of the Transformational Times

 

 

Writing is a Deep Conversation

 

Adina Kalet, MD MPH

 

 

Dr. Kalet, who recently published the latest edition of her book, Remediation in Medical Education: A Mid-Course Correction, which she coedited with UCSF faculty member, Calvin Chou, MD, shares her feelings about the value of writing together with others, and why authorship is among the most complex and critical aspects of what we do. She proposes that, if we can do it well, solid writing opens important conversations and can be deeply satisfying …

 

 

If writing seems hard, it is because it is hard. It is one of the hardest things people do.

-William Zinsser, On Writing Well: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction

 

 

As an early-career physician and clinical educator, I felt none of the traditional “publish or perish” academic pressures because, for most of my working life, I had no particular desire to be promoted. So, you may ask, why do I spend so much of my time writing now? The answer to this has evolved. I write to work things out and begin dialogues, much as Joan Didion hinted when she said, “I write entirely to find out what I am thinking.” Once a concept or project has been committed to the page, I am better equipped to engage in conversations about the things that matter to me. 

 

 

I didn’t always love to write

 

Thanks to a few generous mentors, editors, and spell checkers, I now love to write. This was not predictable. Despite a good-enough elementary education, it never occurred to me that writing could be a deeply satisfying communal experience. Like most of us, I learned the rules of grammar, parts of speech, sentence, paragraph, and essay structure, and how to appropriately use quotations and citations to passively draw on the ideas of others. It was all done in a dry, uninteresting, and lonely way. It wasn’t until I discovered, through writing for publication, that one was entering into deep, complex, and important conversations with others, that I became willing and eager to do the hard work. And it is very hard work. But luckily, it is almost never a solo pursuit. 

 

As medical education scholar, Lorelei Lingard, asserts in her stupendous new book Story, Not Study: 30 Brief Lessons to Inspire Health Researchers as Writers (Springer International, 2021): 

 “Medical education moves forward because we share insights, question methods, argue the relevance of emerging ideas and build on one another’s efforts. All of this is possible in large part because of writing, and it explains why writing is such a highly valued currency ….”

Dr. Lingard has taught me through her “writing about writing” to think of the process as a way of entering critical conversations to clarify our thinking. We converse with those who came before us by reading the relevant literature, we converse with those with whom we work by writing together (not easy by any stretch of the imagination, more on that later), we converse or spar with editors and peer reviewers and, finally if we are lucky, we get to converse with our readers. It is a cacophony of conversations. 

Learning the value of writing with others rather than alone

 

One of my most beloved mentors, medical sociologist Jo Anne Earp, ScD, had a framed picture in her office which, literally, is how I really learned to write.  It is a line drawing of a young child on tippy toes, holding a bright red crayon, caught in the act of crossing out and rewriting the statement, “A good mentor accepts ,expects, respects a first draft.” Sitting in her office, struck dumb by the anxiety of having to write about my work, facing that picture, I truly understood for the first time that writing could be a collaborative process. I was paralyzed as I tried to start writing my very first 300-word abstract to submit to a professional meeting. Recognizing my predicament, Jo Anne took her pen and lined yellow pad in hand and asked, “What should we title this?”  I dictated; she wrote. We switched roles.  Sentence by sentence, we polished the words until we were done. It took one hour, an hour in which I learned the key to collaborative writing—what I now call “yoked pair” writing—a process that I use with my colleagues and mentees almost every day. Now, we sit in front of a computer screen and ask each other, “What do we think?” 

 

Writing is hard. No question. Yet now I see that writing can also be a highly valuable, satisfying, and fundamentally communal experience. Since I learned the value of writing collaboratively with others, my writing partners will tell you I am relentless in extoling its virtues. This is because I believe that writing together is the best way to think clearly and develop ideas. 

 

 

Now, I am an enthusiastic writing coach

 

I regularly share my inner writing nerd. On my shelf is a stack of slim books which I both read and give away. My favorites are the latest edition of Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style illustrated by Maira Kalman (I adore the Basset Hound on the cover), Stylish Academic Writing and The Writer’s Diet both by Helen Sword (where I first discovered that I was a “flabby” writer  - yikes!), the hilarious Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation! by Lynne Truss from whom I finally understood commas; How to Write a Sentence and How to Read One by Stanley Fish and, now, Lingard’s Story Not Study, which is an expansion of a series of papers she edited for the journal Perspectives in Medical Education entitled the “Writer’s Craft.” Of course, writers must also be readers and must have very good editors! 

 

 

Ode to our TT editorial team

 

This is my sixty-seventh Transformational Times Director’s Corner. Before March 2020, all the writing I had done had been as part of a team. I had never published an essay as a single author. When the newsletter was launched and I committed to writing a weekly column, Bruce Campbell became my editor. It requires great talent and generosity to craft someone else’s words. Bruce has done this for me almost every week for the past eighteen months as an act of kindness and compassion despite his surgical and clinic schedules, the publication of a book, and the responsibilities of a professor of otolaryngology at MCW. 

 

I experience his editing as I do an honest conversation with a close colleague.  What he does is the writing equivalent of “active listening.” By reading and rearranging my words, he is saying, “I hear you. Now let me restate that a bit and see if we can make it truer and clearer.”

 

This has been a profound learning experience. At the beginning, my drafts were “messier” and he had to push up his sleeves, often late at night, to find the wheat and eliminate the chaff. By rereading my words with his edits, I have learned how to write in this short essay format.  Originally, he did a heavy edit, rewriting sentences, reorganizing paragraphs and titling sections to hammer the piece into a readable form. Now he takes a lighter touch, refining the words, aligning the tenses, shortening the sentences, and very occasionally rearranging the paragraphs. We have learned to write together, and this has made all the difference.  

 

 

So, let’s get writing!

 

As the Kern Institute moves the mission to transform medical education forward, we must define, refine, and share our ideas. Writing and publishing are critical to this process. Consider writing as a team sport! I hope you enjoy this issue of the Transformational Times as we examine the highs and lows—and the nuts and bolts—of academic publishing. 

 

 

Adina Kalet, MD MPH is the Director of the Robert D. and Patricia E. Kern Institute for the Transformation of Medical Education and holder of the Stephen and Shelagh Roell Endowed Chair at the Medical College of Wisconsin.

 

 

 

Photography and the Medical Humanities

 From the 4/9/2021 edition of the Transformational Times

Photography and the Medical Humanities

Carlyle Chan, MD

Dr. Chan served on the AAMC Arts and Humanities Integration Committee that drafted the FRAHME (Fundamental Role of Arts and Humanities in Medical Education) report. He shares how a deeper dive into the humanities, and photography in particular, can teach physicians to be better observers and help “defy acceleration” in their lives …

“The arts teach creative means of expression, understanding of different perspectives, an awareness of knowledge and emotions throughout the human experience, and the sharing of perceptions through artistic creation and practices in the expressive world.”

“The humanities teach close reading practices as an essential tool, an appreciation for context across time and space, qualitative analysis of social structures and relationships, the importance of perspective, the capacity for empathic understanding analysis of the structure of an argument…”

-NASEM 2018

Similar to the NASEM (National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine) report, the object of the AAMC FRAHME (Fundamental Role of Arts and Humanities in Medical Education) initiative was to “improve the education, practice, and well-being of physicians through deeper integrative experiences with the arts and humanities.”

Photography is a visual art that consists of many sub-categories including, but not limited to, landscape, fine art, portrait, street, food, and photojournalism.  Like other visual arts a photograph can evoke very different personal responses from each individual viewing an image.  Photographer Minor White utilizes the term Equivalence to describe this response.   In psychiatry, we might describe this as a form of transference.  That is, we bring our past experiences into our present-day life.  

For the photographer, photographs have a magical element.  In a fleeting moment, a person can preserve a scene in perpetuity.  As the saying goes, “Take a picture.  It lasts longer.”  However, the camera is not as sensitive as the human eye.  With the exception of photojournalism, adjusting an image after capturing one (a.k.a. postproduction) allows the photographer the creative freedom to better represent what was seen in the mind’s eye.  This is not unlike a painter who may add clouds and move objects to improve a scene’s composition.  Both these activities, picture taking and postproduction, are creative processes.  The former requires, among other skills, powers of observation, perspective taking, composition, and appreciation of lighting.  The latter includes the same skill sets plus technical ones to help develop the final product.  

It has been said that one way to relieve stress is to find an activity that defies acceleration.  Taking and processing photos does slow down the pace of life.  One views and studies the scene to be captured and similarly views and studies the image to be rendered.  Engaging in photography not only provides a diversion from the demands of clinical practice and a respite from life pressures, but also an outlet for creative endeavors.  Photographs are another vehicle for implementing Visual Thinking Strategies while helping avoid burnout.  Parenthetically, the best camera to have is the one you have with you, be it a professional grade SLR or one on a smartphone.  Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, photography is fun.

Carlyle Chan, MD, is Professor and Vice Chair for Professional Development and Educational Outreach in the Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Medicine at MCW. 

Remediation: A Story About Maryam

Reprinted from the January 27, 2023 issue of the Transformational Times

Remediation: A Story About Maryam 

Cassie Ferguson, MD 

 

Dr. Ferguson, who is a reknowned mentor and educator at MCW, tells the story of one student who came to her when on the edge of academic despair ...

The most rewarding mentoring relationship I’ve had with a medical student began the day she came to see me in my office to tell me about her experiences on academic leave. Maryam* had heard that I started a task force to learn about our school’s remediation process and wanted to share her story with me. I now know her to be a fierce, determined daughter of immigrants, but that day in my office she sat hesitantly on the very edge of her chair, backpack on, and glanced frequently at the door, as if she hadn’t yet decided to stay. Her voice was flat, and she rarely made eye contact when she spoke. She told me that after failing a course by less than a percentage point, she was asked to take an academic leave of absence before her first year ended. She might be able to come back, she was told, in the fall and repeat her entire first year. What she was not told was that when she drove to school the day after her leave began, her student ID would not work, and she would not be let into the school’s parking lot.  

“They just threw me away,” she said.   

Maryam’s story—her whole story—would take me years to learn. How she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis during her first year of medical school after months of attributing her symptoms to stress. How she learned that she was dyslexic in her second year of medical school. How intense test-taking anxiety finally drove her to seek help from a psychologist. That information would be given to me in pieces as she grew to trust me, and I have slowly and carefully put those pieces together. Even now, four years after we met for the first time and three years of meeting with her every other week, I know that Maryam has not revealed all the pain she felt during that time, or during the struggles she has had since. I believe that this is in part because of her reluctance to seem as if she is making excuses, in part because of the intense shame that accompanies failing in medical school, and in part out of deference for the archaic medical hierarchy that still hangs over our profession, and the accompanying perception that my time is somehow more valuable than hers.  

That hurt we embrace becomes joy. / Call it to your arms where it can change.

-Rumi 

Medical school is not for the faint of heart. As a result, supporting medical students—particularly those who are struggling—requires love, grit, and fierce compassion. I have learned both through my own experience with failure and from working with students like Maryam that if we are to live up to the titles of teacher, mentor, and advisor we must walk with our students; we must show up even when showing up is uncomfortable. It is precisely when things get hard that we need to lean in and wade through the uncertainty and pain with our students. This requires that we recognize that we have something to offer because of our own life experiences, but I believe the bigger imperative is that we acknowledge that the boundaries of our experiences limit our ability to know what our students are going through. The only way to begin to truly understand is to get very quiet and listen to their stories.  

When we listen to a story, research using fMRI demonstrates that our brain activity begins to synchronize with that of the storyteller; the greater our comprehension, the more closely our brain wave patterns mirror theirs. The areas of our brain involved in the processing of emotions arising from sounds are activated, particularly during the more emotional parts of the story. Even more amazingly, when we read a story, the networks of our brain involved in deciphering another person’s motives—in imagining what drives them—prompts us to take on another person’s perspective and even shift our core beliefs about the world. 

It is impossible to engage properly with a place or a person without engaging with all of the stories of that place or person.

-Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie 

These findings should not come as a surprise to those of us whose work includes caring for patients. As an emergency medicine physician, I have heard thousands of stories. Whether they are snapshots relayed through EMS of how a 14-year-old child was shot in the head at two in the morning on Milwaukee’s north side, an exquisitely detailed account of a 3-year-old’s fever and runny nose from her mother, or a reluctantly provided history of pain and despair that led a 12-year-old to try and kill himself, each of these stories should transform us. They should move us to want and do better for our patients, for our communities, and for our world.  

At the same time, it is essential that as physicians and educators we also recognize what Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie describes as the “danger of the single story.” As an emergency medicine physician, I only hear stories of peoples’ suffering; I am listening to them when they at their most vulnerable, on what may be the worst day of their life. I only hear of the tragedies that have befallen a neighborhood we serve. As an educator who mentors students who are struggling, I often miss out on their stories that are not about failure or crisis. Adichie warns that when we only listen for the single story, there is “no possibility of feelings more complex than pity, no possibility of a connection as human equals.”  

So then our charge as physicians, as educators, and as human beings is to make room for more than just a single story—to remember that all of us are much more than our worst moments, and that compassion and connection arise authentically when we recognize the full spectrum of humanity in one another.  

*Names have been changed.  

Catherine (Cassie) Ferguson, MD, is an Associate Professor in the Department of Pediatrics, Section of Emergency Medicine at MCW and Associate Director of the Robert D. and Patricia E. Kern Institute for the Transformation of Medical Education. 

The Difference Between Confidence and Competence: Growing with a Confident Humility

Originally publishsed in the June 18, 2021 issue of the Transformational Times

 

The Difference Between Confidence and Competence: Growing with a Confident Humility

 

 

Adina Kalet, MD MPH

 

 

Dr. Kalet shares one of the “hidden” tasks that each new resident faces: the need to develop competence without risking becoming overconfident. In this encore essay, she shares some of the pitfalls and invites housestaff to be part of the journey ...

 

 

“It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.” 

- Mark Twain

Thousands and thousands of newly minted physicians begin residency training each year. At MCW, we welcomed our new residents in July, many of whom movied to Milwaukee for the first time. This is a poignant, anxiety-provoking, and exciting time, a new beginning, and a critical transition on the journey of becoming a seasoned and caring physician.

 

Incoming residents embark on the steepest leg of their learning curves. Not only have many of them just moved to a new city, found a new home, and located a new grocery store, each new day brings them an avalanche of firsts: the first patient, the first procedure, and the first time they need to find the cafeteria or the bathroom or the emergency room. Many important components of their new professional identify will take shape in these first summer weeks. Our newest physicians will work to discern how best to balance confidence and humility. Getting this equilibrium right is crucial, and I think MCW is an especially wonderful place to foster this process.

 

The difference between confidence and competence

As physicians on the front line, residents are expected to develop enough confidence to quickly analyze data, make crucial decisions, and act decisively. Think about how difficult and fraught that task can be! We want physicians to make critical judgements under emotionally charged and complex conditions. Even drawing blood for routine laboratory testing (a task interns do daily) means facing an anxious, fearful, suffering person, and causing them some pain. Confidence is critical, yet—to ensure that our teams provide the highest quality and safest health care—we stay on the lookout for overconfidence in ourselves and in others because of the complex and paradoxical relationship between confidence and competence.

The Dunning-Kruger effect, described in 1999, elegantly summarizes this complexity. Stated simply, people with low ability tend to overestimate their competence and, therefore, become overconfident. Conversely, people with high ability tend to be underconfident in their ability. Even worse, poor performers are often unable to recognize their own limitations, and overconfidence is especially pronounced for those at the lowest end of the ability scale. As ability improves with practice, confidence, paradoxically, can take a nose-dive because the difficult journey can create humility and self-awareness. This sense of deflation can feel terrible at the time but, in the long run, is good since it can lead to insight and growth.  

Numerous studies have confirmed that humans are just not good at objectively evaluating their own level of competence, but by honing one’s own metacognitive awareness or being observant—like a scientist—of one’s own thinking and feeling, a novice can guard against using his or her own confidence as an indicator of competence. As teachers, we must avoid making our trust judgements based on a trainee’s confidence alone. As Ronald Reagan was wont to say, we must, “Trust but verify.” Confidence is good, but we must guard against allowing our feelings of confidence to blind us to our own ignorance.

“Confident humility”

In his book, Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don't Know, organizational psychologist Adam Grant reminds us how critical it is to cultivate a mindset “confident humility.” From this stance, one can act even when they are not certain of what is right, but they act with a scientist’s curiosity and perspective, seeking evidence that might refute their current beliefs. Grant reviews the accumulating evidence that intelligence does not protect us from common human foibles. In fact, many researchers have pointed out that smarter, more tenacious people (like many medical students and residents) are prone to blindness to changing conditions and may have a harder time adjusting to new circumstances. They have difficulty admitting when they are wrong. Stubborn, inflexible physicians will run into obstacles when trying to provide competent, character-driven medical care.

 
If, however, a hypothesis survives repeated attacks, it becomes the working theory until such time as it can be disproven. Approaching one’s own competence in this rigorous way—repeatedly challenging beliefs and understandings—keeps a person humble, curious, adaptable, and learning. It is the key to deep, durable, and lifelong learning. 

The remarkable value of working in an institution defined by confident humility

 

Like many of us, I am a transplant from elsewhere, having arrived in 2019. I have traveled extensively and have lived and worked in other institutions in the northern and southeastern United States. To my delight, I have come to know MCW as a uniquely confident, humble place to work and learn. It is remarkable to me—given the excellence in clinical care and research—how little our institution tolerates the everyday self-promoting arrogance typical at many of our peer institutions. This institutional culture is a towering strength and I believe is one of the many reasons we have adapted and thrived for a century and a quarter. 

Adam Grant points out that a hallmark of wisdom is knowing when it’s time to rethink and collect data that might refute and, therefore, cause you to abandon what you think you know and who you think you are. This habit of honest reflection and an openness, or even a delight in learning when you are wrong, is a path toward a deeply satisfying confidence. It’s true in business and especially true in medicine.

So, to our house staff, I say, “You've got this!” You have several difficult tasks ahead, not the least of which is to master your chosen field. You will grow as you learn to work in teams, experience ambiguity, become lifelong learners, and bring your intellect and compassion together to tend the sick and heal the suffering. You will thrive if you tend to your own wellness and character. These are huge tasks responsibilities. We wish you all the best and are here to support you.

 

 

Adina Kalet, MD MPH is the Director of the Robert D. and Patricia E. Kern Institute for the Transformation of Medical Education and holder of the Stephen and Shelagh Roell Endowed Chair at the Medical College of Wisconsin.

Reimagine: It’s Easy if You Try

 From the 1/15/2021 issue of the Transformational Times

Reimagine: It’s Easy if You Try




Balaraman Kalyanaraman, PhD – Professor, MCW Department of Biophysics






This amazing, prescient essay was originally published almost three years ago! We hope you can sense Dr. Kalyanaraman's excitement about Katalin Karikó, PhD and her research. Dr. Kariko and her team were just awarded the 2023 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for their work laying the groundwork for an mRNA COVID-19 vaccine ...

“Anything you do I can do better, but only if you do it first. That’s because I have no imagination, only a re-imagination.”
–Andrew Keith Walker

Right now, I bet you are telling someone, or have been asked, to reimagine some aspect of your work or life. Or perhaps you are reading about or watching an advertisement focused on reimagining. But what does reimagine mean? According to Merriam-Webster, the first use of the word was in 1825, and it is now among the top 1% of words that are looked up. I don’t know about you, but the word “imagine” makes me happy; hearing it frees up space in my brain. Conversely, the word “reimagine” makes me feel tense and anxious; it sounds task oriented and somewhat contrived! Well, the more I’ve pondered the word “reimagine,” the more I’ve realized I do not have to feel this way!

While trying to understand “reimagine,” I came across this anecdote about imagination from the book The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything by Ken Robinson, PhD:

An elementary school teacher was giving a drawing class to a group of six-year-old children. At the back of the classroom sat a little girl who normally didn’t pay much attention in school. In the drawing class she did. For more than twenty minutes, the girl sat with her arms curled around her paper, totally absorbed in what she was doing. The teacher found this fascinating. Eventually, she asked the girl what she was drawing. Without looking up, the girl said, “I’m drawing a picture of God.”  

Surprised, the teacher said, “But nobody knows what God looks like.”

The girl said, “They will in a minute.”

The girl was making an image of something she could not feel with her senses but could feel in her heart!

Try to reimagine “Imagine” written by John Lennon and inspired by Yoko Ono:

Imagine there’s no heaven

It’s easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us, only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today

Hmm, the song is not the same when reimagined, right?

Clearly, reimagination requires a lot more imagination with a lot more passion!
In business, people “think outside the box” and reimagine everything from A to Z! (Do you have a novel idea? Sorry! Amazon already claimed it.) I considered synonyms for reimagine: reconceptualize, re-envision, reinvent, rethink, refine, re-create, reevaluate, or reinterpret imaginatively. It seems that “reimagine” is a word meant to inspire us; it captures the essence of what we need to do together or in collaboration that builds upon our strength.

Below, I’ve given my thoughts on reimagining a few aspects of research and life that are personal to me, but I know there are plenty more that you can reimagine. Some of these also could be applicable to other areas, such as workplaces, social systems, communication, teaching, childcare, sports, and recreation.


Reimagining ideas in research

How does one reimagine research ideas? Here are some ways to get started:

• To find one good idea, you ought to begin with several ideas. It’s important, though, to work on only one idea at a time.
• Become obsessed with your idea. Believe in yourself but be prepared to modify your idea.
• Always be ready to talk about your research ideas passionately at different levels depending upon your audience.
• Don’t be afraid to talk to your colleagues about the grant that was not scored or did not score well enough to be funded, even if they are not in your field!
• Rejection happens to everyone, no matter your reputation in your field. Even Nobel laureates experience it. Ideas, new and old, are rejected all the time. What matters is how you respond to criticism and reshape your ideas!
• Even though you may have the most cutting-edge idea, your proposal may lack widespread approval in the study section and require tweaking. Sometimes you have not exactly read between the lines in the summary statement, and you keep resubmitting the same idea while expecting different results. This is when you really need to get out of your comfort zone and reimagine—consider a chemist/biochemist collaborating with an immunologist, a vaccine researcher (perhaps, an extreme example)!

A great example of reimagining - Katalin Karikó, PhD

Katalin Karikó, PhD, a Hungarian-born biochemist, first laid the foundation for the messenger RNA (mRNA) therapeutics that have been used to develop the COVID-19 vaccine. Messenger RNA transfers the information from DNA to ribosomes to make specific proteins in cells. Karikó hypothesized that if a genetically coded synthetic mRNA was injected into mice, the cells in the body would make the specific protein instructed by the synthetic mRNA. In the 1990s, when she was faculty at the University of Pennsylvania, Karikó submitted several grant proposals on this idea. The proposals were repeatedly rejected, as the reviewers’ thought this concept would not work because of the potential degradation of the synthetic mRNA in the body and the potentially dangerous inflammatory immune reaction.

Despite professional setbacks, Karikó believed in her idea and continued the work with little money. Karikó began collaborating with immunologist/mRNA vaccine researcher Drew Weissman, MD; together they came up with the idea to modify the structure of uridine, one of the four nucleosides of the building blocks of RNA. As they predicted, the modified mRNA encapsulated in a lipid nanoparticle was taken up by cells; Karikó and Weissman then extended this technology to deliver the synthetic mRNA in mice.

They published a paper in 2005 and obtained NIH funding, and this new technology was patented by the University of Pennsylvania. BioNTech, a German company known for developing vaccines, licensed this technology, as did Moderna, a biotech company in Boston.

Karikó is now the senior vice president of BioNTech RNA Pharmaceuticals. The Pfizer-BioNTech partnership developed an mRNA vaccine designed to induce neutralizing antibodies against a portion of the SARS-CoV-2 “spike” protein that the virus uses to gain access into human cells. The antibodies against the “spike” protein recognize and neutralize SARS-CoV-2, thus preventing the infection.

Although Karikó encountered early setbacks in her research, she never gave up and always “imagined how the synthetic mRNA approach could treat so many diseases.”


Reimagining a work-life balance

Ideally, having a good work-life balance would give one satisfaction, fulfillment, a sense of purpose, and empathy.

During this pandemic, a barrier to optimal work-life balance exists for parents (more often mothers), particularly single parents, as they juggle work with childcare and home schooling.

People in the workforce are on different trajectories. Some just starting, some climbing up and trying to reach cruising altitude, some pushing the “reset” button, and some pushing the “rest” button. All too often, people (myself included) are too carried away in their work and give little attention to their life outside of work. Organizations conduct workshops to teach us ways to restructure our lives, which may not seem like rocket science, but it may be nearly as difficult. In what ways can we strike a good work-life balance?

I leave this to the experts to ponder. If we take the time to pause and contemplate it, we will be off to a great start.



Reimagining relationships

Professional advice on improving relationships is available everywhere, in workshops, talk shows, magazine articles. This is all well and good and may work for some people, but often we just need to reimagine the little things that are forgotten. Yes, I understand, “Physician, heal thyself,” and I think it goes well with “better late than never.” In his article, 10 Ways To Reimagine Your Relationship, Barton Goldsmith, PhD, says “doing new things together, and old things in new ways, makes your love stronger.” He proposes a number of ideas to reimagine relationships:

• Let go of the past. Learn to forgive and forget, and focus on the positives. Be grateful for each other and treat each day as a blessing. Write down at least one thing (daily or weekly) that you appreciate about your partner.
• Create your fantasy vacation. Daydreaming about your ideal vacation can be fun! During the pandemic, this may be hard to fathom, but things will get back to normal. And when you are able to take a vacation, you will be ready.
• Take a class together. Or do other activities with your partner: Take a virtual cooking class, learn CPR, learn a new language, take a walk through the park.
• Have lunch together once a week. This will help break the monotony.
• Ask your partner 20 questions. Show curiosity in your partner’s interests. What are some things you’ve always wanted to know about your partner but never took the time to ask?

To this list, I’ll add: Never be afraid to poke fun of yourself. Self-deprecating humor can ease those tense moments.

I am sure you can find many more fun things to add to this list.

Reimagining stress reduction through mindfulness

Emerging science convincingly shows that routine exercise, yoga, meditation, and mindful meditation can alleviate stress, anxiety, and depression. Herbert Benson, MD (Benson-Henry Institute for Mind Body Medicine at Massachusetts General Hospital) pioneered the beneficial effects of meditation (e.g., lowering blood pressure and heart rate, and increasing brain activity). Functional MRI studies support the beneficial aspects of meditation to combat depression and anxiety.

Suzanne Westbrook, MD, a retired doctor of internal medicine, says, “our mind wanders all the time, either reviewing the past or planning for the future.” Mindfulness teaches the skill of paying attention to the present, and that life is in the moment. Mindfulness is not about trying to empty the mind; rather, it is about remaining present. It is a practice designed to improve brain health. Taking a slow deep breath through the nostrils (i.e., inhaling) and then slowly breathing out through the mouth (i.e., exhaling) will help you relax, reenergize, and reconnect. Repeat this inhalation/exhalation technique about 10 times. Use it as a “balance break” as needed during tense times (e.g., grant preparation). Mindfulness will improve your focus on the task at hand and face challenges with a healthy attitude, reduced stress, and increased energy. Mindfulness could be incorporated into many things—eating, conversation, listening. Some people practice 20–30 minutes of meditation that involves “mindful body scan,” during which one notices the sensations one is feeling without judgement. Indeed, mindfulness is presently at the top of the wellness universe as a stress reduction technique!


Let us imagine and then reimagine 2021! But not without first learning from 2020. Yes, hindsight is 20/20.



Balaraman Kalyanaraman, PhD, is Professor and former Chair of the Department of Biophysics at MCW.