Thursday, March 4, 2021

Setting the Expectation for a Growth Mindset in KINETIC3’s Excellence in Teaching Track

From the 3/5/2021 newsletter 


Perspective/Opinion 


Setting the Expectation for a Growth Mindset in KINETIC3’s Excellence in Teaching Track


Alexandra Harrington, MD


Dr. Harrington shares that character development in adults seems dependent on having a growth mindset, a frame of mind adopted by the Kern Institute's KINETIC3 Teaching Academy...



As I reviewed the results of my Values in Action (VIA) character strengths survey, I noted the ‘top 5’ of honesty, judgement, love, perseverance and fairness, but was naturally drawn to those strengths ranked at the bottom, self-regulation, social intelligence, and spirituality. For those unfamiliar with this survey, it is a free survey (available at https://www.viacharacter.org/)- that all KINETIC3 learners take prior to our first course- that ranks your character strengths based on your answers to a series of questions. Can I better control my emotions and reactivity? How do I improve my interpersonal relationships? These questions and other related ones had me reflecting on my mindset. With a growth mindset, I certainly could practice better self-control, but not with a non-acknowledging, resistant fixed mindset. Character development in adults seems dependent on having this growth mindset.

 A growth mindset is defined by Dr. Carol Dweck as the belief that talents and skills can be developed in oneself and/or others. We have adopted this frame of mind in the KINETIC3 program and have set the expectation for having a growth mindset with respect to teaching in the Excellence in Teaching Track. Our learners are asked early in the program to reflect on previous teaching evaluations. We ask learners to share their positive evaluations and reflect on growth opportunities. Then, we ask learners to share any negative feedback on their teaching and again reflect on growth opportunities. We try to explore those opportunities, even if the negativity of the evaluation seems like Jimmy Kimmel’s mean tweets! KINETIC3 learners are given time to reflect substantively on their teaching and character strengths and opportunities for improvement and commit to working on those growth fronts during their coached teaching observations.

“We’re all a mixture . . . it’s true that you can have a fixed mindset in one area and a growth mindset in another and that it’s a spectrum, not a dichotomy,” Dr. Dweck tells us in a videoed interview that we watch in KINETIC3 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-71zdXCMU6A&feature=youtu.be). 

Learners are asked to reflect and share stories wherein they had a fixed mindset and then situations in which they have had growth mindsets. And as Dr. Dweck advises, we ask learners to reflect on the triggers of the fixed mindset. What puts you in the fixed mindset in that moment? The goal in this exercise is to identify the trigger in hopes of avoiding the rigidity in the future. We stretch our learners to mentor themselves hypothetically then towards a growth-minded belief if they encounter similar scenarios in the future. Lastly, we share examples of fixed and growth mindsets related to our previous educational experiences, such as disregarding student evaluative feedback (fixed) and trying a new active learning exercise (growth). It is imperative we recognize that in the teacher-student relationship, our mindset may influence our learners’ mindsets (and vice versa!).

Alexandra Harrington, MD, MT (ASCP), is a Professor of Pathology and Director of Hematopathology in the MCW Department of Pathology. She serves as Director of the Faculty Pillar and the KINETIC3 Teaching Academy within the Robert D. and Patricia E. Kern Institute for the Transformation of Medical Education.

Friday, February 26, 2021

Let’s Renegotiate the “Social Contract” in a Way that Promotes Human Flourishing

From the 2/26/2021 newsletter


Director’s Corner


Let’s Renegotiate the “Social Contract” in a Way that Promotes Human Flourishing 


Adina Kalet, MD MPH



This week Dr. Kalet wonders how we might reimagine the relationships among society, the profession, and healthcare systems to ensure the ability to pursue human flourishing for us all …


Toward the end of his life, my father-in-law needed a generalist physician to provide real primary care, but he had neither an engaged, attentive physician, nor a system that was prepared to enable this type of attentive oversight. 

A couple of years before his death, a hurricane hit the region where he lived on the east coast of Florida. Unable to contact him and knowing that the area had lost electricity, my husband flew down from New York the next day. Mark found his father sitting in a dark, warm, damp apartment struggling for breath. Mark’s dad had experienced a significant myocardial infarction and was in florid heart failure. 

Over the next few months, my father-in-law’s physician-son and nurse-daughter scrambled to manage his health care needs as he deteriorated. He required prolonged hospitalizations in a cardiac rehab facility utilizing resources up to the full limit of what Medicare would allow. When he returned home, none of Dad’s specialist physicians offered to take responsibility for coordinating his care or arranging for homecare. Luckily for Dad, his son and daughter-in-law were physicians, and his daughter and son-in-law were nurses. My husband attempted to manage things from a thousand miles away by phone, fax, and email, and eventually was able to hire a wonderful aide who stopped by for a few hours each day to help with the activities of daily life and a private care coordinator. Despite the fact that he could hardly walk or drive, Dad’s local physicians insisted that he come to their offices for regular weight checks and refills. He missed many appointments, was confused about his medications, and was disgusted with the whole thing. We would have paid dearly to offer Dad the level of medical care coordination my husband is able to provide his own patients through the VA System, our largest publicly financed, national health care model.


We REALLY need more primary care physicians and compassionate teams

Last week in this space, I outlined why and how medical schools need to train more primary care physicians. Data have shown that access to good primary care in accessible, coordinated, integrated, and globally funded systems is associated with the best outcomes and lower costs; these paradigms offer benefits to communities and to patients like my father-in-law who have chronic medical conditions. Without a solid primary care physician, even patients like my father-in-law with excellent insurance and attentive social support, have less-than-ideal outcomes. 

I think we need to come together to make things better for us all. I am convinced that if my father-in-law had had a generalist physician practicing in a coordinated and supportive healthcare system, he would have received more competent, coordinated, and compassionate care.  Dad and his family would have had a better quality of life over those final couple of years, less confusion and stress, fewer days in high-cost care, and a “better death.” No doubt, there would have been significant cost savings. While many systems strive to do this and many medical schools work toward preparing students to enter competent health care systems, this is not the reality for most of the country.


Rethinking how care is provided by reviewing an imperfect model

Recently, a friend shared an email she received from the primary care physician to whom I had referred her many years ago. This well-established physician was transforming her practice from an insurance-based to a “membership” model. In exchange for an annual retainer (relatively modest compared with similar arrangements), she offered herself to be personally accessible 24/7 for telehealth visits, promised next day appointments, and provided office visits that were three times the length of what she had been able to schedule before (thirty v. eleven minutes). For patients like my father-in-law, she offered to proactively oversee home care, ensure medications are delivered and taken appropriately, and stay in touch with the patient, healthcare team members, and family. She would serve as the team’s quarterback, providing the leadership that winning teams need. 

At first, I was critical of this Executive Model - what some call “concierge” medicine - where wealthier patients with health insurance pay for the kind of consistent, high quality access I believe everyone deserves. But, as I thought about what this change in practice model said about the physician’s well-being, my heart broke. This wonderful woman had always practiced “cognitive” medicine in a fee-for-service model where the only way she could generate revenue was by seeing office patients. In her old system, her “success” was measured by seeing more-and-more patients for shorter-and-shorter visits.  By embracing the new model, she would likely enhance her income while practicing medicine the way she knew it should be done. 

Numbers matter though. One serious problem with this type of “tiered” model of care is that, unless there is a dramatic increase in the number of primary care physicians, even fewer people and communities will have access to quality primary care. This shift will have the greatest impact on those who live in poverty, are disproportionately affected by the social determinants of health, have increased rates of comorbidities, and have little or no insurance. Yet, this is exactly the population that stands to benefit most from ready access to compassionate, attentive, and highly coordinated primary care.  


The divide between cognitive and procedural physicians is making the situation worse 

Part of the problem with workforce distribution and balance is the widening income differential between cognitive and procedural physicians. Since 1980, the median salary of cognitivists has increased at the rate of inflation, while the median salary of physicians who perform procedures has doubled. This gap translates into a $3-$5 million lifetime advantage for proceduralists. This economic power allows proceduralists to benefit more readily from modern practice management (e.g., partnering with advanced practice nurses or physician assistants, medical scribes, and other documentation technology), thereby gaining efficiency, further widening the gap, and increasing their personal salaries. Meanwhile, cognitivist physicians can only increase their efficiency by giving up what is most meaningful and valuable in their work: communicating with patients in the context of strong relationships, taking time to figure out complex problems, and committing to longitudinal care. Under the current models, cognitivists cannot optimize their practices without trading off what is most satisfying in their work. 


We need to rethink the social contract between physicians and society

Many (including me) have pointed out that medical professionalism is the basis of medicine’s social contract. But as things change, we see that this simplistic view of the contract is a poor metaphor for the complex physician-patient relationship. The COVID-19 pandemic has given the medical profession a reprieve from decades of society’s eroding trust as we move from a predominately solo practice model to a more systems-based model. Physicians around the world have demonstrated that we will serve, run toward disaster, and care for the sick even when our own health is threatened. It is time that the old, implicit sets of agreements between society and the profession be aired out and reimagined. The moment to reexamine the details of the social contract is here. 

As a country, we spend enormous amounts of money for healthcare, yet the outcomes, both for physicians and society, are far from optimal. Taxpayers provide $20 Billion annually to support graduate medical education, and support all aspects of medical education through public insurance, yet the average physician and their family sacrifices for years in order to join the profession and accumulates significant debt. We need real, granular conversations about the cost of medical school (of all school), effective practice models that balance outcomes with efficiencies in care, and ways to enable physicians and patients to spend more time together, engaged in doing the meaningful work that promotes wellness. If we don’t put our heads together and find a better way to improve public health while creating a healthy, physician workforce, both society and physicians will continue to suffer.


Human Flourishing 

In a perfect medical world, healthy physicians would expect to learn and work at the highest intellectual and technical levels while they spend their careers doing both what they ought to be doing but also what they want to do for its own sake. The environment would allow them to perform their callings at the level of the “highest human good,” what Aristotle called εὐδαιμονία or Eudemonia, translated as human flourishing. Ensuring these kinds of environments should be goals for both physicians and society as we renegotiate the social contract. 

I suspect many of you have similar tales to the one I shared about my father-in-law. Many people shake their heads talking about care lapses for elderly loved ones or other family members. These all-too-common stories reflect the perverse incentives, inefficiency, waste, burnout, and lack of attention that can emerge from our current bureaucratic models of care. Sometimes, it feels as though character-driven, compassionate care is the exception, not the rule. 

At the Kern Institute, we are committed to transformation, and today’s issue explores how we hope to promote human flourishing. If things are to change for the coming generations, physicians, who - as a group - have always demonstrated the willingness to be there, must be given the moral agency to do their work in safe and well-equipped environments while pursuing professional fulfillment, well-being, joy, and collaboration with other healers. We must commit to exploring new approaches where society can expect a healthy workforce, and every family knows who to call when that time comes for a prepared, highly competent, and compassionate hand on the wheel.



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. 

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

Coming Home

From the 2/19/2021 newsletter


Coming Home


Allison McLellan, MD



Dr. McLellan, a current Pediatrics resident at MCW, describes connecting her past and future through an instant and deep love of rural Alaska...



The fact that I was sobbing as the plane landed in Anchorage didn’t make sense. I was a fourth-year medical student about to interview for a residency spot; the crying would have made sense if it was due to nerves but that wasn’t the reason for my tears. I was treated to a monochrome view from my window- ice, sky, trees and snow, all grey. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I was struck by the feeling that I was going home again, which is odd, since I’d never been there before. 

Like most scientists, I trust the things I can see and hear; the things I can quantify and catalogue. The fact that I was trying to sob quietly into the sleeve of my hoodie so the man sitting next to me didn’t assume I was insane solely because of a “feeling” seemed odd. 

My childhood involved moving from place to place often enough that most people assume one or both of my parents are in the military. In reality, my father’s engineering degree and mining background allowed us to make the move from the northern Ontario mining town where I was born to the US. We went back to Canada constantly while I was growing up because we were the only members of our family in the US. We made trips once or twice a year to ice fish, camp, and see our relatives. 

I loved everything about it, until I didn’t. I thought things changed too quickly; people moved, houses were torn down, trees were cut and childhood memories vanished. In reality, I was the one who had changed but the end result was the same - Canada had stopped being my home.

This was fine; after all, I was now an adult. I didn’t need a home base - I inherited an adventurer’s spirit from my parents. The home I had I would make and carry with me. I had dreams and plans - go to medical school, become a doctor. I planned on being the doctor my grandfather had deserved as a child, rather than the one he had. He’d grown up in a remote area of Canada where medical care was sparse even for white children. For Native children like him, it was almost non-existent. 

I still retained a fondness for the north, much to the chagrin of my Florida medical school, who assured me it would be much easier to match to a residency in Florida. “Why even try to leave the state for residency? It is so difficult, and you could risk not matching,” they told me. I did everything they told me not to. I did multiple away rotations as far north as I could get. I applied for residency in every state that wasn’t Florida, and I applied for programs that were considered to be out of my league by my medical school. I didn’t care. I wrote my personal statement about my grandfather and my desire to care for people that needed it the most - those living in places others didn’t want to live, or those people that are often deemed “lesser than” due to the color of their skin or their genetic makeup. I wanted to be the pediatrician that my grandfather never had, and I wanted to find a town where I could do that and also find my home. I did not match into a residency program that granted me an all-access pass to Alaska, but that didn’t stop me. I had called my husband from the bathroom of Ted Stevens International Airport in Anchorage and asked if I could just not come home. 

We’d settled on a pact - I would do everything I could to get back to Alaska, and he was up for the challenge. I was absolutely relentless - I had seen the light and found my home after only spending three days there. I talked about it incessantly, researched where I could work and where my husband and I could live. I structured my whole residency around the plan that I was going to get to Alaska, come hell or high water, come earthquakes or global pandemics. 

The next time the plane landed in Anchorage, it was after midnight. No view of the water or snow or sky, just lights in the darkness. Thomas Wolfe said, “you can’t go home again,” and I honestly believed him. What if I didn’t have that feeling again? 

My husband knew that I had started crying before I did. I don’t know when it happened; probably when the plane turned in the same spot it had three years ago and I was treated to the lights reflecting off the snow of the city below me. My heart pounded, my mouth went dry, and I squeezed my husband’s hand until the plane landed. 


Allison McLellan, MD is a PGY3 resident in the Department of Pediatrics at MCW. 


Friday, February 19, 2021

Some Questions for Lisa Grill Dodson, MD - Dean, MCW-Central Wisconsin Campus

 From the 2/19/2021 newsletter


Some Questions for…

Lisa Grill Dodson, MD - Dean, MCW-Central Wisconsin Campus



Rural hospitals have long faced tight funding, declining resources, challenging recruitment/retention issues, and low volumes/reimbursements, yet they are expected to be ready to care for the full-range of health issues including opioid / methamphetamine addiction, obstetrical care, COVID-19, refractory mental health issues, farm machinery accidents, and high-speed vehicular trauma. We spoke to Lisa Dodson, MD, the Dean of the MCW-Central Wisconsin Campus in Wausau, about the challenges facing her campus and the future of rural healthcare …



Transformational Times: How does a regional campus help address some of the challenges of rural health care?  

Dr. Dodson: Regional campuses play several roles as we address the unique challenges of rural health. First and foremost, a regional campus can directly impact workforce availability. Students who grow up away from large urban areas, train in smaller cities, and are accustomed to the lifestyle are more likely to practice in less densely populated, underserved counties. These students have the extra level of resilience needed to survive and thrive and will be ready for the constant challenges in both pathology and policy that have an oversize effect on rural communities. 


TT: What can you tell us about students that are drawn to regional campuses?

Dr. Dodson: First of all, they are truly unique. Students coming from rural areas to medical school are unbelievably underrepresented. Nationally, medical schools  currently have the smallest percentage of students coming from rural backgrounds since records have been kept and most medical students in urban areas will never meet a rural mentor or have any rural experience. So, we actively look for students from rural areas, believing they have a greater likelihood of going back to the same or similar communities. 

The mentors these students meet are critical. They show the students that that they don’t have to be “saints” or “missionaries” to go into rural medicine. These are great, fun, rewarding jobs. Intrinsically motivated, curious, and pragmatic students find great challenge and reward in these settings. 

Because of their backgrounds and the backgrounds of their teachers, regional campus students might be less susceptible to the overt and subtle messages aimed at discouraging them from pursuing smaller community primary care careers. These students tell me that they are often subjected to comments asking them why they don’t want to “aim higher.” They hear that a lot but, fortunately, they also see how satisfied their mentors are. The students learn to say, “Thanks for the advice but this is what I want to do.” They learn to believe in themselves and their choices. Our goal is to support them to make the right choices for themselves. 

Think about the challenge: 

It is nearly impossible to convince a student to enter primary care in a small town if they have come to medical school from an urban/suburban background, have only seen urban medicine, and are convinced they want to be a subspecialist in a large city. The system is designed to take students who want to be family physicians and steer them toward specialties; rarely, does it work in the opposite direction. 

Recruiting students from less populated areas isn’t foolproof, of course. Some students from small towns will see medical school as their “ticket out of Dodge.” Finding students who will commit to return to a small town after having been through medical school and residency training is special. 



TT: What challenges do you see in the rural health care workforce and in rural health care in the coming decade? 

Dr. Dodson: Over the coming decade, we need to better understand and develop pipelines for all rural populations into health care professions. For example, we have an Advancing Healthier Wisconsin grant that is targeted to increasing matriculation for Hmong students. We hope to expand to other groups. One successful example in Wisconsin is the UW-Madison Native American Center for Health Professions which was founded by Dr. Erik Brodt (View the We are Healers website here). 

To attract and retain rural students into our communities, we are partnering with Aspirus, a local health system. The Aspirus Scholars program provides full-tuition scholarships to medical students in exchange for a commitment to return to work in the area for at least five years. There are fifteen current or recently graduated Aspirus Scholars at MCW-Central Wisconsin.

Political and policy changes are imperative. Policy makers must refocus on community engagement, health equity, population health for all populations throughout the state. Unfortunately, the solutions that work in urban regions don’t always work in smaller towns. Both areas need access to equitable public health. Both areas need access to quality care in trauma, medical emergencies, and obstetrics. Even though they might not be needed often and the volumes of patients are low, the systems - and society writ large - need to make certain that these services and properly trained staff are available when needed. When someone is in urgent need, you can’t always just “drive to the next town.” Keeping these services available is a larger problem than any one town or county, and the loss of small-town hospitals across the region is a concern.  

We could think of the need for healthcare in the region the way our predecessors faced the need for electricity when it first became available. In those days, rural areas developed public utilities. There was a societal decision that everyone should have access to electricity because the benefits outweighed the costs of getting wiring to remote regions - a concept with which we all agree. To reach rural areas, utilities required federal and state funding, but still maintained local control. Medicine, like electricity, could be delivered to all people in need, not to the highest bidder.  

We need to advocate for our communities. If school systems are underfunded and failing, it will be hard to recruit physicians with young families. If infrastructure is not maintained, there will not be enough people to support practices and physicians will not have enough resources to provide care.  


TT: What challenges do you see in your accelerated curriculum, and in medical school curricula, in general? 

Dr. Dodson: We do need to build different curricula. A compressed medical school curriculum like ours does not easily fit for someone who intends to enter subspecialty surgery; there just isn’t sufficient time for them to get the exposure they need to be a competitive applicant for residency. On the other hand, not every student needs the same length of time to master what they will need to succeed. We need to stop thinking of medical school duration in terms of  “integers”; curricula should be more flexible than exactly three, four, or even five years. In competency-based curricula, students finish when they have displayed mastery. I have seen students who are close, but not quite ready, after their three years. Some need a few extra months beyond three years to be prepared, but not a full year. Curriculum reform should focus on using time to optimize student preparation and not as “remediation.” 



TT: What has surprised you most in your position? 

Dr. Dodson: Being a dean is a weird job! It’s like having a baby. Nothing is every quite what you planned or thought it would be. You hit surprises. You hit roadblocks. For example, when I arrived, there were great physicians here, but we needed to launch into faculty development to turn them into teachers. It was harder than anticipated but very gratifying.

It has been rewarding to see how much our community physicians clearly enjoy the opportunity to give back to the next generation. Since the classes are small, we find the chance to work with the students to be very engaging. They challenge us. They want to know, Why do you do things that way? The students bring ideas, keep us fresh, and keep the job rewarding. 

I have been surprised by how difficult it can be to recruit physicians. Wausau isn’t that small of a town and we are close to major metropolitan regions. The area is amazing. We really need neurologists, but the system has been unable to get people to look.  It’s hard. So we’ll grow our own. 



TT: Any final words?

Dr. Dodson: I have loved seeing how in rural areas we all depend on each other in ways that aren’t always seen in larger urban areas. A small town will find out what you can do and put you to work. In my first rural practice, the hospital hired my husband (a chemical engineer) to install their first computer system. Once that project was completed, he was been hired to do regional economic development, also something out of his core area of expertise. Rural communities work together. 

I think being part of a regional campus has given me a unique perspective on the current state of medical school education. Too often, schools focus on what doctors need and want. “We want more specialty training!” At our regional campus, we also focus on what the community and society need. That is more rewarding and is, I believe, where medical education needs to turn. When we ask, “What do the neighbors need?” we think about where best to place our resources. Regional campus can demonstrate this. We listen and respond. 



Lisa Grill Dodson, MD is the Sentry Dean and Founding Dean at MCW-Central Wisconsin, a position to which she was appointed in August 2014. She completed her family medicine residency and fellowship at the Oregon Health Sciences University. 

Interview conducted by Bruce H. Campbell, MD.