The other day, one of the senior emergency residents (who is very comfortable with cardiology, resuscitation, respirology, ICU, and advanced procedures), admitted during a shift that his knowledge of orthopedics was “not great.” He asked his staff to go over xrays with him and walk him through a basic radial gutter slab–something that a third year clerk would usually know how to do.
I really admired his honesty.
His acknowledgement did not diminish my impression of his clinical skills. It reinforced, in my mind, that he was safe as well as competent and humble.
Because how often do you see people reflect on their blind spots and be okay with asking for help?
It’s so rare.
Even after all of these years, I struggle with asking for help.
I’m sure I’m not the only one.
One of my favourite questions to ask medical trainees is this:
“What does it take to be a GOOD emergency resident?”
And inevitably, I hear answers like “smart, fast, kind…” and after a pause, they say “to be perfect.”
When I ask emergency staff the qualities they value in residents, they often say things like “hardworking, safe, be a team player,” but I rarely hear staff asking for perfection.
I think residents hear the need for perfection through the hidden curriculum–because it’s the modelled behaviour for them.
Most staff would not admit to ignorance on a medical topic.
We don’t openly talk about instances when we’ve been sued–it’s hushed.
M and M rounds can feel excruciating, especially those brave enough to present their own clinical misses.
Staff like to be the expert, not the master questioner. We tell residents to embrace a growth mindset, yet it’s painfully humbling when we ask ourselves to do the same. I know lots of staff who feel like gagging when they talk about growth mindset (even though there is great evidence to suggest a mindset that normalizes failure and mistakes is more ready to handle the challenges of real life).
The emergency resident’s very straightforward admission about his orthopedic knowledge gap reminds me that becoming a doctor is a lifelong process, and a humbling one at that.
Motherhood is also a lifelong evolution and process. Motherhood can be learned. Being a mother doesn’t have to “come naturally” as one friend of mine once expected.
So “failure” is really just a new opportunity to “learn.”
Question: “Where can you learn from a failure today?”
