During my limited experience as a junior doctor, I have often found myself asking the exact same question Dr. McCartney asks; "where's the joy in medicine?". I was once informed that it could possibly be found somewhere in amongst the virtual piles of online bureaucracy. Maybe it lay beneath that fourth 360˚ appraisal or possibly between the sixth mini-cex and twelfth reflective practice entry? I spent month after month searching, yet to no avail.
Until recently that is. Now, as a junior doctor currently "out-of-training" on the other side of the world in New Zealand, I am reveling in the joy of medicine. Because now I have the opportunity to learn for learning's sake, rather than learn purely to prove to the powers that be, that I am indeed learning.
I no longer waste precious time chasing people to fill out online assessments, which invariably deem me to be simply "average", because to write that I am above average would require my assessor to complete even more boxes with a justification for their assessment. Conversely, to be simply "average" requires no further justification. I no longer spend evenings working half-heartedly on my e-portfolio, whilst the TV lingers on in the background.
Now I am free to read up on my patients' conditions, simply because I wish to update my knowledge, liberated from any ulterior motive. On quiet days on the ward, I am able to observe endoscopy or help assess patients in clinic. I often follow the echo technician to learn ultrasound skills. I am free to badger the radiologists with burning questions about scans I cannot fully interpret alone.
Yet when I return to the UK for further training, I will be forced to forgo a wide range of learning opportunities to ensure that I complete the desired numbers of tick-box competencies (which by no means would deem me competent in any such skill). I will continue to chase down my assessors to fill out yet another online form and collect the required number of certificates to prove that I am indeed training the way the leadership expects me to train. I can only hope that there will be times, in between the monotony of the tick-box exercises that will form the basis of my training, to re-discover moments of joy that will remind me of exactly why I chose a career in medicine.
Rapid Response:
Re: Fed up with forms
During my limited experience as a junior doctor, I have often found myself asking the exact same question Dr. McCartney asks; "where's the joy in medicine?". I was once informed that it could possibly be found somewhere in amongst the virtual piles of online bureaucracy. Maybe it lay beneath that fourth 360˚ appraisal or possibly between the sixth mini-cex and twelfth reflective practice entry? I spent month after month searching, yet to no avail.
Until recently that is. Now, as a junior doctor currently "out-of-training" on the other side of the world in New Zealand, I am reveling in the joy of medicine. Because now I have the opportunity to learn for learning's sake, rather than learn purely to prove to the powers that be, that I am indeed learning.
I no longer waste precious time chasing people to fill out online assessments, which invariably deem me to be simply "average", because to write that I am above average would require my assessor to complete even more boxes with a justification for their assessment. Conversely, to be simply "average" requires no further justification. I no longer spend evenings working half-heartedly on my e-portfolio, whilst the TV lingers on in the background.
Now I am free to read up on my patients' conditions, simply because I wish to update my knowledge, liberated from any ulterior motive. On quiet days on the ward, I am able to observe endoscopy or help assess patients in clinic. I often follow the echo technician to learn ultrasound skills. I am free to badger the radiologists with burning questions about scans I cannot fully interpret alone.
Yet when I return to the UK for further training, I will be forced to forgo a wide range of learning opportunities to ensure that I complete the desired numbers of tick-box competencies (which by no means would deem me competent in any such skill). I will continue to chase down my assessors to fill out yet another online form and collect the required number of certificates to prove that I am indeed training the way the leadership expects me to train. I can only hope that there will be times, in between the monotony of the tick-box exercises that will form the basis of my training, to re-discover moments of joy that will remind me of exactly why I chose a career in medicine.
Competing interests: No competing interests