Wednesday, August 5, 2020

Learning Communities at the Medical College of Wisconsin: Past, Present & Future

From the 7/24/2020 newsletter


Learning Communities at the Medical College of Wisconsin: Past, Present & Future 


Cassie Ferguson, MD, Kurt Pfeifer, MD, Marty Muntz, MD, Cassidy Berns, Kaicey von Stockhausen, and Adina Kalet, MD, MPH 


This Kern Institute team describes their work on the rapid evolution of Learning Communities at MCW and the proposal for expanding the effort putting the learner at the center of education ...



The new academic year is upon us. New medical students arriving in Milwaukee will be find a campus than that looks very different from the one they saw on interview day. Orientation will be mostly virtual. Those unscripted moments and chance encounters that allow students to make connections with new people in the first few weeks of school will be few and far between. Everyone will be wearing masks and sitting at least 6 feet apart in classrooms. There won’t be the option to wander the hallways or find that perfect place to study. It all must be scheduled in advance.

These changes to medical education necessitated by COVID-19 pandemic are layered upon the preexisting challenges of rapidly expanding biomedical knowledge and increasing time and fiscally constrained clinical environment. These challenges may have compounding consequences, including burnout and increasing rates of depression, anxiety, and suicidality. To better support our students and to help promote a sense of connection and community amidst social isolation, the MCW School of Medicine (SOM) is implementing learning communities (LCs). 

LCs were first developed on undergraduate campuses to foster professional growth of students with similar academic interests. LCs partner faculty members with groups of students longitudinally to promote communitybuilding, academic and personal support, professional development, and curricular activities. LCs transform the medical school curriculum from coursestructured to learner-centered; putting the student- embedded in cohesive communities, at the center of the curriculum. 

Since the early 2000s, many medical schools have implemented LCs, and a 2012 survey showed that 52.4% had LCs and 48.3% of those without them indicated that they were considering creating them.1 Studies of LCs have demonstrated substantial improvements in faculty engagement, student wellbeing, and professional development.2 2018 surveys of MCW students and faculty conducted by the Kern Institute confirmed strong support for the implementation of LCs. 

With implementation of a pass/fail course grading system for the first two years at MCW, a strong system of mentorship for students is imperative not only to identify students who would benefit from additional support and intervention, but also to encourage students who are already successful to develop goals in the pursuit of excellence. LCs can promote inclusive behaviors and ensure effective transitions for all students. Finally, as the COVID crisis persists and social distancing limits interactions between students and faculty, LCs are an excellent means of assuring support for students and development of student faculty relationships. 


Current State of Learning Communities at MCW 

REACH Well-Being Curriculum 

As referenced above, LCs can positively impact student well-being. Growing evidence detailed in the National Academy of Medicine’s 2019 report on professional well-being indicates that learner burnout may negatively impact the quality and safety of patient care, the adequacy of the workforce, and the professionalism and personal health of learners. While system factors are the major contributors to burnout, attention to well-being in the learning environment may mitigate their effects. 

In Fall 2019 at the MCW SOM with much support from Academic Affairs and the Office of the Dean, the Kern Institute Student Pillar implemented a well-being curriculum aimed at teaching well-being skills and providing opportunities to talk with and learn from peers and faculty members. The REACH (Recognize, Empathize, Allow, Care, Hold each other up) curriculum, which is intentionally structured as longitudinal groups of faculty, staff, and students, uses an LC model. 

Designed and directed, by Dr. Cassie Ferguson, Director of the Kern Institute Student Pillar, The objectives of the REACH curriculum are to describe how the well-being of medical students, trainees, and physicians is integral to becoming caring and competent physicians; and, to identify characteristics and practice the skills that will help students thrive in medicine. The curriculum is designed around research-based best practices across several disciplines, including psychiatry, positive psychology, and mindfulness; pilot program data; and, interviews with students. The content emphasizes the importance of several fundamental concepts: storytelling, embracing vulnerability, nurturing selfcompassion, creating space and opportunity to examine one’s thinking patterns, developing emotional health, and fostering community. These concepts are woven into discussion of core topics including seeking behavioral health help, community building, creating boundaries, mindfulness, meditation, suicide prevention, imposter syndrome, productive generosity, beginner’s mind, digital minimalism, and looking for joy in the learning and practice of medicine. 

REACH consists of four didactic sessions and three facilitated small-group sessions in the first year, and three didactic sessions and three facilitated small-group sessions in the second year. Each small group comprises 10 medical students and two volunteer facilitators- a clinical faculty member and either a behavioral health expert (some of whom are also clinical faculty members) or a student support staff member. Facilitators receive detailed session guidelines with learning objectives, suggested discussion questions, activities, and links to related resources (e.g., didactic session videos, podcasts, articles, books). 

Evaluation of the curriculum was accomplished through a 17-question survey made up of Likert scale and open-ended questions completed by 62 students at MCW-Milwaukee (30%). 85% of respondents believed that what they were asked to learn in REACH was important; 70% would recommend that other medical schools adopt REACH. The REACH small group sessions played a significant role (>70%) in building relationships with peers and faculty. Students commented on the benefits of getting to know their peers, realizing they were “not alone” in how they felt, and feeling faculty were genuine and cared about them. 


4C Coaching Program 

The Kern Institute at MCW identified LCs as also having great potential for pursuing innovations supporting character and caring in medical education. After exploration of LC-related components and features with Kern National Network partners and MCW students and faculty, the Coaching for Character, Caring, and Competence (4C) program was launched in August 2019. 4C is structured around the core concept of LCs – groups of students and faculty in a longitudinal relationship to cultivate professional growth. Within this framework, multiple different components can be implemented to meet specific objectives (See diagram). Roughly 50 students volunteered for the program during AY2019. 13 volunteer faculty were grouped with 3-4 students each, and these groups meet monthly covering character and professional development topics. In addition, faculty meet individually with each of their students every other month. The program is directed by Kurt Pfeifer, a faculty member in the Student and Curriculum Pillars of the Kern Institute. 

With its initial launch, 4C centered on longitudinal coaching at the Milwaukee campus, but in AY2020, near-peer mentorship will also be piloted, and activities will be extended to the Central Wisconsin campus. 

Initial data show great support for the program as a whole and strong impact on development of mentorship and support for students and sense of faculty engagement. Students in the program were less likely to have feelings of isolation and reported strengthening of several character traits, including perspective, self-regulation, perseverance, and social intelligence. 


Incorporating Learning Communities into Curriculum for Fall 2021 

The Office of the Dean identified a pressing need to intentionally and thoughtfully expand on the existing LC structures at the MCW Milwaukee campus this fall. As detailed above, LCs can mitigate the potential consequences of social distancing rules by providing a “home” for every student and built-in opportunities for connection with peers, faculty, and support staff. 

Based on discussions between Academic Affairs, Kern Institute faculty, Dr. Lisa Cirillo, Jennifer Hinrichs, Mary Heim, and Dean Kerschner, a proposal was created for a longitudinal, tiered structure of LCs, where smaller groups of students roll up into larger groups of students allowing for intimate discussions without missing out on interacting with a variety of people. The objectives, activities, and facilitation of each group will be appropriate for their size and will enhance students’ experience and learning at MCW. 

Class of 2024 will be broken into 5 “On-Campus Learning Groups” each of which will be broken into three Orientation Groups of approximately 16 students each (again, depending on the size of the class). These groups will be established during the Orientation week. The Orientation Groups will be broken into two REACH Groups. The REACH curriculum is currently a mandatory part of the Clinical Apprenticeship course (conducted in the spring of M1 and fall of M2 years). Dr. Ferguson, Director of REACH, is engaging in discussions with Academic Affairs and Dr. Cirillo about incorporation of REACH into the Foundations of Clinical Medicine and Foundational Capstone courses as well. 

Students will additionally have the option to sign up for the 4C coaching program, which has groups of 4 students led by a volunteer faculty coach and a near-peer coach (M3 student). Current plans are for two 4C coaching groups to combine to form a REACH group, with the 4C faculty coaches also serving as those students’ REACH facilitators. Because the 4C Coaching Program is optional, not all students will receive this content. 



Vision for the Future of LCs at MCW 

We envision LCs evolving to provide a longitudinal structure that both supports and challenges each student as they achieve required competencies and develop and pursue individual goals at MCW. Students will be welcomed into an intentionally created group of peers, faculty and staff that will provide a sense of belonging from Day 1 at MCW – with LC faculty leading small group activities during Orientation and presenting the coats to their group at the White Coat Ceremony. With consistent expert faculty and staff guidance, LCs will provide meaningful opportunities for shared learning, peer teaching, and social connectedness through the challenges and joys of medical school that we are currently unable to guarantee given our large class size and reliance on a traditional curricular and advising model. LCs will also enable MCW to more fully transform to a competency-based education model of learning and assessment, as each student and their LC faculty share responsibility in ensuring that progress toward competence and excellence is consistently pursued. The bond among LC members will grow with time and shared experiences, culminating with the opportunity for LC facilitators to meaningfully participate in the Hooding Ceremony and Commencement. Both faculty and students desire and would greatly benefit from the realization of the community described in this vision statement. 


Cassie Ferguson, MD, Kurt Pfeifer, MD, Marty Muntz, MD, Cassidy Berns, Kaicey von Stockhausen, and Adina Kalet, MD, MPH are working on the rapid evolution of Learning Communities through their work at the Kern Institute, Medical College of Wisconsin.


1 Smith S. Acad Med. 2014 Jun;89(6):928-33. 

2 Eagleton S. Adv Physiol Educ. 2015;39(3):158-66. Smith SD et al. Acad Med. 2016;91(9):1263-9. Rosenbaum ME et al. Acad Med. 2007;82(5):508-15. Wagner JM et al. Med Teach. 2015;37(5):476-81. 

Sunday, August 2, 2020

Preview of presentation by Adam Hill, MD - Author of Long Walk Out of the Woods: A Physician’s Story of Addiction, Depression, Hope, and Recovery


From the 7/31/2020 newsletter


Three Questions for Adam Hill, MD 


Dr. Hill is Chief of Pediatric Palliative Care at Indiana University’s Riley Hospital for Children and author of Long Walk Out of the Woods ~ A Physician’s Story of Addiction, Depression, Hope, and Recovery


He will deliver Kern Institute's Grand Rounds on 8/6/2020 - 9:00 - 10:00 a.m. CDT


REGISTER HERE

  

TRANSFORMATIONAL TIMES: Dr. Hill, you developed and direct a program at Riley Hospital for Children called an "Compassion Rounds." What led you to develop the program and what impact do you see it having?


ADAM HILL, MD: We wanted to create a safe space for human storytelling, where individuals from all walks of life could come, share their experiences in a brave yet vulnerable way and know that they are being loved and supported for their authentic truth. We wanted to cultivate compassion, empathy, understanding and in doing so, breed a culture of human connection within our hospital walls. We intentionally open this space to all people, from EVS workers, cafeteria colleagues, to teachers, therapists, nurses and docs. We don’t focus at all onclinical medical decisions or even clinical encounters but instead about our own human experiences and how those experiences make us who we are today. In doing so, we create connections, friendships, perspectives and pathways for support. So that if an individual is struggling in their own story, they know that they are not alone and have cultivated their own silos and spaces now to reach out for help.

Over and over again we see these connections flourish outside of the meeting spaces. Sparks that turn into brushfires and true connections that develop when we take off our own blindfolds and realize that we are all in the same room together. Walking around with our own insecurities, fears, and anxieties in the same way. And we don’t shy away from the harder conversations like ourmental health, personal trauma, abuse, race, addiction, work trauma, grief/loss, etc.


TT: How do you use empathy to explore the emotions and needs of your patients?


DR. HILL: Having my own story of health conditions allows me to challenge myself to constantly stay open-minded and open-hearted. That we all have our own stories that are deeper than any stereotype or superficial assumptions assigned. That I hope people will get to know me as Adam, a man/husband/father/dog-lover/physician and not merely as someone with a history of addiction or depression. I hope to give my patients and their families the same dignity, a respect of listening to their story with a willingness to be changed.

From my own experience, I know that personal truth is layered under levels of denial, self-preservation, anger, projection, shame, guilt and the external pressures of having to portray some semblance of perfection or a stereotyped ideal of how to live your own life. Getting to the truth of someone’s experience requires patience, presence, trust, respect and a safe enough space where this truth can be explored. I hope to show up in this way for my patients, to build this trust and know that I can’t ever know what their story, life or lived experiences is like – but that I am willing to listen to find out.

 

TT: As a palliative care specialist, how do you manage your own mental well-being while caring for patients, especially during the pandemic or any other crisis?


DR. HILL: Without pretense. Without any expectation of perfection or that I have everything figured out. I am a work in progress and I strive not for perfection but for progress every single day. That I can show up, do my best and provide space for grace that I am a human being in the midst of difficult times and I can only control what I can control. Over almost a decade of recovery, I have learned my own triggers, my own needs, my own limits and where I need to set boundaries in my own life. I’ve developed skills and techniques, and I rely on ongoing counseling to continue to move forward in my own processing of the complexity of the daily work. I’ve learned how to communicate those needs to my family and my colleagues in a way that allows me to continue to do the intimate work every single day.

I also find deep meaning and purpose in the work that I do. Although difficult work, I see this as an incredible opportunity to make a difference in someone’s life during the hardest days of their lives. That I didn’t cause the pain, suffering, sadness or grief. I am not in control of what happens in the world all around, but I do have a role to play in showing up, doing my best and bringing intention into the work. And then, on the back-end, finding healthy ways to integrate that work into the story of my life in a way that allows me to be a father/husband/son as the top priority of my life.



Dr. Adam B. Hill is the division chief of pediatric palliative care at Riley Hospital for Children at Indiana University Health. His work in palliative care is focused on allowing patients to live the best quality of life possible, in the midst of chronic, life-limiting and/or life-threatening medical conditions.

Dr. Hill is passionate about physician wellness and self-care in the context of changing the culture of medicine surrounding mental health conditions and addiction. In 2017, Dr. Hill published a groundbreaking New England Journal of Medicine articled titled “Breaking the Stigma: A Physician’s Perspective on SelfCare and Recovery.” In this article Dr. Hill shares his own story of personal recovery from depression and substance use. As a result, Dr. Hill has become a nationally recognized lecturer on the topic and has also authored a book entitled “Long Walk Out of the Woods: A Physician’s Story of Addiction, Depression, Hope and Recovery”




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Excerpt from: Long Walk Out of the Woods ~ A Physician’s Story of Addiction, Depression, Hope, and Recovery


“...Worldwide, evidence continues to show that worsening mental health is an occupational work hazard in the medical field. I know firsthand how one’s mental health can deteriorate during medical training. Studies have shown that 27 percent of medical students are depressed, a rate three times higher than an aged-matched cohort of their peers. The numbers don’t get any better after graduation either as depression rates among medical residents are an estimated 29 percent. In medical schools in the United Kingdom, a multi-school study found 52 percent of medical students reported substantial levels of anxiety. While another study found the proportion of medical interns meeting criteria for depression increased from a baseline of 3.9 percent prior to medical training to a staggering 25.7 percent during medical internship. In the group of individuals reporting their mental health conditions, more than 80 percent did not feel adequately supported in their disclosure.”

Saturday, August 1, 2020

A View from Internship

From the 7/31/2020 newsletter

A View from Internship


Kim Tyler, MD, MS


Dr. Tyler, who recently graduated from medical school, shares her thoughts on developing a professional identity even as medicine goes through the upheaval of a pandemic …


Starting my intern year during a pandemic is not what I had in mind a year ago when I was preparing residency applications. I could never have anticipated what this first month of internal medicine residency would be like. I find myself thinking multiple times each day, “I should not be allowed to do this.” “Who decided that I was qualified to do this?!” “It is wild that they let me do this.” There is a constant tension between what I feel is expected of me and what I feel is within my abilities. I wrestle with “Impostor Syndrome.”

The first time a patient called me their “doctor,” for example, I nearly fell over. The first time I was summoned to pronounce a patient’s time of death, I stared at my pager wondering if they’d contacted the wrong person. A few weeks out of medical school, “doctor” is an identity I have not yet learned to accept.

As I move through my days, I experience twinges of incompetence. I fear that a patient might call me out. Of course, this is a familiar theme for many during the pandemic. None of us has the faintest idea where this is headed, and uncertainty lingers over all of healthcare. When the ICU fellow is questioned by a family member about treatment options for a COVID patient, does she feel the same doubt that I feel? Do even the most confident attendings have moments of distress? Perhaps some who have made careers out of medicine are being reminded of how they felt when they first started—now challenged by an illness in whose face previous medical knowledge seems inadequate. Is there, in this moment, an opportunity for all of us to acknowledge our hidden feelings of inadequacy and hesitation?


Sensing what it means to be a physician

Even though I am new to this, I believe I am starting to sense what it means to be a physician. In the quiet moments after a patient has confided a fear, a hidden addiction, or a smothering depression, I realize I am accompanying them on their journey. Even as I struggle to enter home healthcare orders, sort out conflicting lab results, or work through admission orders, there are times when I allow myself to just stop and be present in the spaces I inhabit with my patients. The specter of this pandemic highlights the importance of sitting with suffering even when we cannot relieve it.


Even in this time of great uncertainty – and in the midst of my first weeks as a doctor – I can see the beauty in simply and generously being present.



Kim Tyler, MD MS is graduate of the Medical College of Wisconsin Class of 2020. She is currently a PGY1 in the MCW Internal Medicine residency program.

A Letter to our 2020 Interns

From the 7/31/2020 newsletter

A Letter to our 2020 Interns


Wendy Peltier, MD
Froedtert & MCW Palliative Care Section


Dr. Peltier, who graduated from medical school in 1991, shares her perspectives with our newest graduates on how the uncertainty of treating COVID-19 reminds her of her days caring for patients with HIV/AIDS …


Dear friends going through your internship,


Congratulations on becoming PGY1s! Truthfully, most memories of the times around my internship at Rush Medical College in 1991 are a blur. For example, I cannot recall the popular songs, who won the Super Bowl, or even the model of car I drove. However, as clear and crisp as if it was yesterday, I remember the faces and stories of many of the patients and families for whom I cared.

1991 was near the peak of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Young, talented, previously healthy homosexual men were hospitalized in droves with frightening, rare conditions including Kaposi’s sarcoma, PCP pneumonia, CNS lymphoma, and terrifying degrees of cachexia. Each diagnosis was a death sentence and most HIV/AIDS patients knew they were dying. Their families were afraid to walk into their rooms or to touch them. Many patients disclosed their sexuality to loved ones for the first time at the same time they learned they had a terminal diagnosis. I sensed everyone’s fear and anxiety. I saw first-hand the stigma and bias the patients and families endured.

As health professionals, we were considered at high risk, as well. There were no effective treatments. Needle sticks and fluid splashes might kill us, and it took weeks to get test results back after an exposure. We wore double gloves and goggles. We adopted increased vigilance when performing procedures and interacting with potentially infected patients. It was scary.


Uncertainty and fear

There was much uncertainty, fear, and misinformation about the HIV virus. At the same time, as interns, we were directly responsible for hands-on aspects of hospital care in ways that would be unthinkable now. Even after being up all night on call, we stayed until late the following evening until the work was done. We often went thirty-six hours without sleep, went home for a few hours, and then went back in for more. There was no such thing as a “weekend.” We placed IVs and central lines, drew blood, inserted catheters, and – often – transported patients for after-hours testing in Radiology. Our scut lists were long.

Years later, I can see how working with patients with HIV/AIDS and my internship experiences laid the foundation for the doctor I am today.

Internship has always been – and continues to be – a time of transition, excitement, and anxiety. Despite the stress, we considered our intern years both a “rite of passage” and an honor. We were gratified to be trusted with the care of our patients and were uplifted by their moments of grace. We were frequently exhausted but did not see it as abuse. And, besides, our chiefs and faculty constantly told us how much worse they had had it.


A steep learning curve

The intensity quickly imprints memories that will last through your career. Every intern likely remembers the first patient they admitted, the mystery case where they nailed a diagnosis, and the first central line they placed. They remember the first time one of their patients died. You will likely carry similar memories with you.

It is also a time when relationships with colleagues take on new meanings. You learn about functional and dysfunctional teams. You develop your own habits of caring for patients while you explore disciplines and seek out role models that can show you how you might want to build your career.


Some things have changed and some have not

In the years since my internship, much changed. Scientific discoveries led to transformative medical treatments for HIV/AIDS and, by the early 2000s, contracting the virus was no longer a death sentence. The LGBTQ community and its allies tirelessly fought the bias and stigma surrounding the diagnosis.

As part of my practice as a neuromuscular neurologist, I saw patients in clinic with longstanding HIV/AIDS and neuropathy. I always asked them to share their stories. This led to meaningful conversations, reaching far beyond their neurologic symptoms. After my internship where essentially, every HIV/AIDS patient died, I was amazed to meet individuals living full and active lives fifteen years after infection. I suspect you will see patients experiencing post-COVID effects many years from now, as well.

My friends, there are parallels between my internship and yours. Just as with HIV/AIDS, previously healthy people, young and old, become suddenly and critically ill. They are isolated from their families. Patients are victims of bias, guilt, and isolation. Medical professionals fear for their own health. There is uncertainty and misinformation. There are more questions than answers. Just as in 1991, politics intrudes on patient care.


Here are my wishes 

As a long-ago intern, here are my wishes for you:

May you be in the moment, and stay close to the patient and family experiences amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, with keen attention to empathy and advocacy.

May you keep your faith in Medicine and vigor for Science, even when you feel tired and overwhelmed.

May you take time to regularly reach out to support and encourage your colleagues and team members with patience and kindness.

May you look back on this time with pride and wonder.

 

I know you feel overwhelmed by the challenges and opportunities you face. I encourage you to honor and share stories of your experiences with colleagues and friends. Reach out to faculty like me, who have been through crises for support and perspective. You are not alone. We will get through this together.


In gratitude for all you are doing, 

Wendy



Wendy Peltier, MD is an Associate Professor of Medicine and Section Head of the Palliative Care Center in the Division of Hematology and Oncology at MCW. She is a member of the Faculty Pillar of the Robert D. and Patricia E. Kern Institute for the Transformation of Medical Education.