Categories
Lessons Medicine Reflection

On the Importance of Hobbies.

During medical school, professors advised us to “have hobbies” and to “do stuff outside of medicine”:

  • “It’ll give you have something to talk about with patients.”
  • “It’ll help you maintain balance as you go through your training.”
  • “It’s important for self-care.”

Medical students, as a population, tend to be compulsive and there’s always more to read and learn. (Medicine, like many fields, entails lifelong learning, even when you are tired of lifelong learning.) It’s easy to drop other activities and study all the time.

As I’ve aged, my understanding of their advice has changed.[1. Even before I chose to enter the field of psychiatry, I was skeptical of the reason that hobbies “will give you something to talk about with patients”. While I believe that physicians should present as human beings at work, patients also don’t visit doctors to talk about shared hobbies. There are plenty of other shared topics to talk about, such as the weather, regional sports, etc. As physicians have limited time with patients, it seems self-indulgent to talk about MY hobbies when my role is to help the patient. Some may argue that my stance results in too rigid of a boundary, though I don’t think patients want to learn about our hobbies during medical visits. That’s what social media is for, right?]

When I’m not at work, no one calls me “Doctor”. I have hobbies, sure, but not solely to provide balance to my work in medicine. Working as a physician is an important part of my identity, but it’s not my entire identity.

And that’s where the value of hobbies come in. Physicians spend a lot of time in school and at work. Our jobs can easily become our entire identities. So if we have a bad day at work—maybe because we saw more people than usual with severe illnesses; maybe because we learned that one of our patients died; maybe because we’re frustrated with all the things we have to do that seem unrelated to actually taking care of people—we can feel terrible if that’s the sole lens in which we view our lives.

If I view myself only as a physician, then a crappy day at work means I will be in a foul mood for the rest of the day. And the only thing that will change that is a “better” day at work.

The importance of having hobbies is to experience growth and success outside of medicine. Maybe a patient said terrible things to me today, but I made a delicious soup from scratch. Maybe one of my patients died, but I was able to write about the loss in a meaningful way. Maybe the system isn’t broken; maybe it was built this way… but I finished a half marathon without stopping to walk.

Similarly, maybe my coconut-and-vegetable rice dish didn’t come out quite right, but one of my patients who has been psychotic is getting better. Maybe my hamstring is strained from running long distances, but I was able to help a nurse practitioner improve his clinical skills. Maybe blog posts I am proud of don’t seem to impress anyone else, but I was able to help nudge a policy to help improve patient care for a particular population.

Those are binary pairings, but it works across multiple spheres. I finished a book about a murder AND one of my patients isn’t getting better AND that new soup recipe turned out better than I thought it would. Life has its successes and failures. If we’re able to look back on the day and the sum of events is greater than zero, we are lucky.

So, for any medical students who are reading this, yes, make an effort to cultivate hobbies. Yes, hobbies make you a well-rounded person. More importantly, though, when you practice cultivating your hobbies now, you’ll be better at both the cultivating and the hobbies themselves when you’re a resident and an attending. You will have terrible days while you’re in training and when you’re working. You have a front seat in the theatre of human drama. These other hobbies will help you remember that you are a multifaceted person, that you are not your job.

And while you may take pride in being a physician, the reality is that you will not practice as a physician forever. You will one day retire from the practice of medicine. And, indeed, this will all end one day and you will die. While people may remember you in your role as a physician, people may remember you even more for your talents in cooking, your boundless knowledge about sports, the curious pieces of art your crafted, and your perspectives as a person who happened to work as a physician.


Categories
Consult-Liaison Education Medicine Observations Policy Reflection

Why I Agree with the Goldwater Rule.

The New York Times and NPR recently published articles related to the Goldwater Rule. In short, a magazine sent a survey to over 12,000 psychiatrists in the US with the single question of whether they thought Presidential nominee Mr. Barry Goldwater was fit to serve as President. Few psychiatrists responded. Of those that did, more than half—still over 1,000—said that he was not. Mr. Goldwater ended up losing the Presidential race, but he sued the magazine over this… and he won. Thus, the American Psychiatric Association has advised that psychiatrists should not diagnose public figures with psychiatric conditions. Some psychiatrists have felt otherwise for the current Presidential election.

There is a hypothetical concept in psychiatry called the “identified patient“. It is most often applied in family systems. For example, consider a family that consists of a mother, a father, a son, and a daughter. The parents bring the daughter to a psychiatrist and say that she has worrisome symptoms. Maybe they say that she is always angry, doesn’t get along with anyone in the family, and does everything to stay out of the house. The parents and the son argue that there must be something wrong with her.

As the psychiatrist works with the family, the psychiatrist learns that the parents have the most conflict. The daughter may have developed ways to cope with this stress in ways that the parents don’t like. Because the parents have the most authority in this system and do not recognize how their conflicts are affecting everyone else, they assume that the daughter is the problem. To oversimplify it, the daughter becomes the scapegoat. The daughter is the identified patient.

Presidential nominees don’t become nominees through sheer will. There is a system in place—putting aside for now whether we think the system is effective or useful—where the American public has some influence in who becomes the ultimate nominee. Candidates are eliminated through this process.

Does the Presidential nominee actually have psychopathology? Could a nominee rather reflect the public that supports him or her? Could it be more accurate to describe the nominee for a specific party as the “identified patient”?

Erving Goffman presents an argument in his book The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life that has similarities with the monologue in Shakespeare’s As You Like It:

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts

Goffman and Shakespeare are both commenting on the presence and importance of performance in our daily lives. Goffman argues in his text that context matters[1. I agree that context matters. See here, here, and here.]. We all do things within our power to alter ourselves and the contexts to present ourselves in certain ways.

Some mental health professionals have argued that we can diagnose public figures with psychiatric conditions because of “unfiltered” sources like social media. While it may be true that some people are more “real” (or perhaps just more “disinhibited”) on social media than others, that does not mean that people are revealing their “true selves”. Do you think that people are always eating colorful vegetables in pleasing arrangements? or that people are always saying hateful things, even while waiting to buy groceries, attending a church service, or folding laundry? or that their cats are always cute and adorable, that hairballs and rank breath have never exited their mouths?

Lastly, the primary purpose of diagnosis is to guide treatment. There is no point in considering diagnoses for someone if you’re not going to do anything to help that person.

People have commented that psychiatric diagnoses often become perjorative labels. Unfortunately, there are those who work in psychiatry who will use psychiatric diagnoses as shorthand to describe behavior they don’t like. Instead of saying, “I feel angry when I see her; I don’t like her,” they will instead say, “She’s such a borderline.” That’s unfair and often cruel. If you’re not going to do anything to help improve her symptoms of borderline personality disorder, then why describe her that way? (We’ll also put aside that such a sentence construction reduces her to a diagnosis, rather than giving her the dignity of being a person.) If we are serious about addressing stigma or sanism, then we should only use diagnosis when we intend to help someone with that diagnosis.

I agree with the Goldwater Rule, though not because of the exhortations of the American Psychiatric Association.[2. I’m not a member of the APA. The reasons why I am not a member are beyond the scope of this post.] Diagnosis should have a specific purpose. We often do not have enough information about public figures across different contexts to give confident diagnoses. Presidential nominees are often appealing to various audiences, which can both affect and shape their behaviors. Most importantly, giving a diagnosis to a public figure without any intention of helping that person doesn’t help anyone, especially those who would ultimately benefit from psychiatric services.


Categories
Observations Reflection Systems

Black Lives are Also Lives.

For the past few weeks I have felt discouraged about ongoing local, national, and global violence. I felt powerless to do anything—including write—to help make things better. I could not find the words to express my sorrow.

So I turned to Buzzfeed.

I came across an article describing the efforts of Asian-Americans who were writing letters in their respective Asian languages to their parents about Black Lives Matter. My father and I hadn’t discussed the deaths of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling. However, the topic of race in America comes up in our conversations every few months.

Several months earlier, while discussing experiences of racism in his life, my father commented, “The Chinese should not be surprised to experience racism. We made the choice to come to America. It was voluntary. Black people didn’t have a choice. They were forced to come here.”

It was a perspective that I hadn’t considered before. And while I understood his point, I wondered what degree of racism any person should experience without feeling “surprise”.

It was only recently that I understood that some people who hear “Black Lives Matter” interpret that to mean “Only Black Lives Matter”. Thus, the rebuttal “All Lives Matter” came into being.

Of course All Lives Matter, I thought. That’s the whole point. Perhaps it would be more precise to say Black Lives Matter, Too.

I asked my dad if Black Lives Matter was receiving as much media attention in Taiwan and China as it was here in the US. I also expressed my surprise about the rebuttal of “All Lives Matter”.

“The Chinese media talk about it in a different way,” he said. “It’s not ‘Black Lives Matter’. It’s ‘Black Lives are Also Lives.’ It’s more clear.”

Indeed! There is no pithy retort to that. The clear implication is that we, as a society, value lives. The death of a Black life should disturb us as much as the death of any other life.

For all of us who are ever considered The Other—and everyone, at some point, is considered The Other—we must support the other Others.[1. We support other Others if their causes are noble and just. Make no mistake: I am not saying that we should support The Others who advocate for genocide, torture, etc.] There was a time in the US when The Majority were fearful of the Chinese, which resulted in the Chinese Exclusion Act. This was the first law that explicitly stated that a specific ethnic group could not immigrate to the United States. Though this law was ultimately overturned in 1943 (not even 100 years ago!), the Chinese are still the only ethic group specifically named for exclusion in the United States Code.

People who were not of Chinese descent disagreed with this law before, during, and after its implementation. They also supported its repeal.[2. I understand that some people opposed the Chinese Exclusion Act solely for commercial reasons. They did not care about equality. I’m not talking about those people.] I am grateful that they spoke up. Had they not, my parents would not have been able to immigrate to the US, contribute to this society, enjoy what America has to offer, and raise a daughter who now writes this blog.

We all speak up in our own ways: Some people participate in protests; others write words for others to read; still others have quiet conversations about it. Advocacy takes many forms. Choose what works best for you.


Categories
Observations Reflection Systems

Us and Them and Homicide.

If an event doesn’t happen often, it’s difficult to predict when it will happen next. We can only talk about “risk factors”.

For example, no one can predict when an earthquake will occur. We can, however, talk about the risk of an earthquake. We know that the risk of an earthquake is much higher in Seattle than in Houston: Seattle is on a fault line while Houston is not. Because earthquakes are rare, though, we don’t know when Seattle will have an earthquake. We just know that it’s more likely to happen there than in Houston.

Homicide is also a rare event. In 2013, about five out of 100,000 people died from homicide. That means 99,995 out of 100,000 people did not die from homicide that year.[1. A reader told me that these numbers are confusing. More than 100,000 people died in the US in 2013. My point is that the vast majority of people don’t die from homicide. Communication is hard.] Compare that with suicide: In the same year about 13 out of 100,000 people died from suicide. That’s right: In the US, people are over twice as likely to kill themselves than other people.

Because homicide is such a rare event, it is difficult to predict when, where, and how it will occur. We can discuss risk factors (e.g., alcohol and other substance use; access to firearms; gang involvement; exposure to domestic violence and child abuse; previous history of fighting of violence), but none of those risk factors will help us predict when it will happen. There are adults who were beaten as children, drink alcohol now, and own a firearm… but they will never kill anyone.

The data is mixed about the association between mental illness and homicide.[2. Here are three papers that discuss mental illness and suicide:

] Based on numbers alone, though, it is both inaccurate and unfair to state that homicide is due to psychiatric conditions alone:

Compare that to the rate of homicide: 5 out of 100,000 people.

With increasing news reports of people killing others, my colleagues and I have wondered how we can intervene. Many people who have committed homicide have never encountered the mental health system. Even if they did, they may not have endorsed or demonstrated symptoms that would warrant any intervention, including a follow-up visit. We agree that individuals who kill others are disturbed, but they may not have a “mental illness” that is described in our field. (We then wonder: So what is going on with them?)

The book The Spirit Level describes the correlation between greater interpersonal violence in societies with greater inequality. The authors also show evidence of higher prevalences of psychiatric disorders, obesity, and teen pregnancies in societies that are more unequal.

While it is easier to attribute these acts of heartbreaking violence to individuals—They are the problem; this happens because They are “mentally ill”; Their religion dictates that They should kill people; We would never do that—perhaps we should attribute this violence to our society and our communities (or lack thereof).

How would our society function if everyone had food, clothing, and a home? What would happen if everyone had steady employment and income? How would relationships change if everyone in school and at work learned how to recognize their emotions and practiced coping skills? What would happen if people didn’t drink, use drugs, or resort to violence when feeling distressed? What would shift if everyone had the chance to go to school and learn about different people, places, and ideas? How would things be different if people didn’t feel hopeless and helpless? What if people believed their communities could create something better? What if people didn’t believe that the only solution involves destruction?

It is easy to blame Them: They have mental illness; They believe in a religion that is false; there is something wrong with Them.

They and We, however, are part of the same community. Until we realize that we must work together to reduce risk factors and help each other, we cannot expect that these tragic events will stop.


Categories
Medicine Observations Reflection

My CV of Failures.

Several people on Twitter and Vox recently discussed “CVs of failure“.

We don’t like to share our failures, though we often don’t realize how our failures resulted in opportunities. (Or maybe that’s the narrative we tell ourselves so our failures don’t sting as much.)

Someone who provides wise counsel to me commented that sharing a CV of Failures is much easier to do when you’ve achieved success. I can see his point, though would argue that sharing a CV of Failures more reflects self-acceptance than success. Some people don’t ever think they’ve achieved success even though everyone else thinks they have.

So, in case it does provide inspiration for others, here’s my informal and abridged[1. This is most certainly an abridged version of my failures because (1) this includes only the professional failures I can remember, and (2) it includes strictly “professional” failures.] CV of Failures:

Universities I Did Not Get Into[2. Patients rarely ask me where I went to college or what I studied.]

  1. Stanford University
  2. Harvard University

Medical Schools I Did Not Get Into[3. Patients are even less likely to ask me where I went to medical school. The people who most frequently ask this question are physicians who work in academic settings.]

  1. University of California, Los Angeles (I cried)
  2. University of California, San Diego
  3. University of California, Irvine
  4. University of California, San Francisco
  5. Loma Linda University
  6. Stanford University
  7. Johns Hopkins
  8. Vanderbilt University
  9. Northwestern University
  10. Georgetown University
  11. New York Medical College
  12. Baylor University
  13. Tufts University
  14. Albert Einstein College of Medicine
  15. Case Western Reserve University
  16. Wake Forest University
  17. Mayo Medical School
  18. MCP Hahnemann University (now Drexel University)

I can’t remember the other schools I applied to. All told, I applied to 28 schools. Two offered letters of acceptance.

Residencies I Did Not Get Into[4. I don’t think any patient has ever asked me where I did my residency.]

Applicants “match” into a residency. Medical students apply and interview at residency programs. They then make a rank list of where they want to go. Programs also generate a rank list of medical students they want. A computer then “matches” the lists.

The lore is that “good” students will match into one of their top three choices.[5. Somebody who interviewed me at one of those programs actually asked me during the interview: “Were you abused as a child?”] I did not.

  1. New York University
  2. University of California, San Francisco
  3. Mount Sinai School of Medicine

Places That Rejected My Essays[5. I compare this list to the list of medical schools I applied to and realize that I should submit more essays. More attempts may lead to more failures, but increases the likelihood of actual success.]

  1. Bellevue Literary Review
  2. New York Times
  3. Salon
  4. Slate
  5. Vox

As a total aside, there was a time when I did not list my blog on my actual CV. About five years ago I did. I wish I had sooner.