While in the ICU, I was questioned by physicians and medical students, but never examined. I am convinced that had I not been an experienced family physician, I would have suffered a fatal postoperative event. The medical students assigned to my care would not have known that I died, unless they received a notification via Twitter.
My experience as a patient was in stark contrast to the way I practice medicine.
I use an EMR only to e-prescribe, and have chosen not to participate in submitting meaningful use data to the government. Rather than spending 2 hours a day making eye contact with an EMR, I prefer to use that time to listen to my patients’ concerns about their health. I know how to conduct a review of systems and I touch my patients at each visit. I look at their feet, skin, and eyes, listen to their heart and lungs, and palpate their abdomen. I perform a rectal exam on every patient who presents with abdominal pain.
I have learned to communicate my suspicions and thoughts (both positive and negative) to all of my patients. I take notes on scratch paper, not on a computer, just as my grandfather and father used to do when they were practicing medicine. I only order tests to confirm a suspected diagnosis, not as a primary means of evaluating patients.
Upon my discharge from the hospital, I reached out to the director of clinical studies at the local medical school and explained the deficiencies I’d encountered. I explained that the 4th-year medical students were ill-equipped to perform an adequate history or physical exam. They lacked knowledge of basic pharmacology. And they failed to appropriately follow a patient during the perioperative period.
The director appreciated my concern and provided me with the details of a corrective action plan that she had been working on.
“We need to implement our patient simulation computer program designed to teach our students how to appropriately interact with their distressed patients,” she said.
Really?
I suggested that the medical students needed to unplug their smartphones, computers, and iPads. Let them spend a day or 2 with one of us “old-time docs” who still work with our hands—hands that are skilled at evaluating patients, rather than texting and data entry. We’ll show these students how to become caring, intelligent, and dedicated clinicians.