Friday, March 5, 2021

Three Questions For Teresa Patitucci, PhD

 From the 3/5/2021 newsletter


Three Questions For Teresa Patitucci, PhD 

Assistant Professor Cell Biology, Neurobiology & Anatomy 

Medical College of Wisconsin



What was most beneficial about KINETIC3? 

The KINETIC3 Training Program was valuable for learning more about becoming an effective medical educator. This included various modalities that can be used for effective classroom sessions, like different active learning strategies, as well as how to assess learning from those sessions and provide feedback to learners. As a foundational scientist, it was hugely valuable to me to participate in these workshops with those engaged in clinical teaching to get a better understanding of where students are headed once they are finished with my courses. It was great to learn teaching tips from other participants in the courses! 


 How have you incorporated what you learned?

 I incorporate what I learned in KINETIC3 all the time! I had some teaching training experience prior to KINETIC3 where I learned nuts and bolts of writing learning outcomes and assessment questions, but really benefitted from learning more about adult learning theory, incorporating character into teaching, culturally responsive teaching, and turning education into scholarship. I regularly apply these lessons when designing courses and sessions, looking for “teachable moments” and ways to go over material that is engaging to an adult learner and trying to put the concept in context of how they will use it in the wider world with their patients. As an anatomist training learners for direct patient care, I find it important not just to talk about a structure on the body, but also how we as a culture interact with that region of the body and when a patient may need extra reassurance. 


What was your capstone and where has it gone? 

My capstone project focused on using critical reflection of strengths and weaknesses to develop character and emotional intelligence. Our project examined reflective writing pieces from M1 learners enrolled in Cliical Human Anatomy on the MCW-CW campus. We learned a lot about the student experience during their first 6 months adjusting to medical school, specifically analyzing comments in the domains of emotional intelligence, wellbeing, and teamwork. Students received feedback from a faculty member and completed self-assessments as follow-ups to the reflective writing activities. Since then, my capstone partner and I have continued working on this project, now with the help of a Transformative Initiatives (TI2) Grant from the Kern Institute. We are enrolling students from campuses other than MCW-CW, adding discussion sessions, and evaluating impact of repeated critical reflection on selfawareness and professional identity.

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.