I've noticed a change in the way that I think, and I'm not sure if I like it. I've started wanting an H&P (history and physical) on my friends and relatives. Now, I don't mean that I literally want to peek into their medical records; it's more that I have come to expect a certain amount of background information before addressing a problem. When I'm asked for advice by people I know, I go into "doctor mode" and immediately want more information than it's socially acceptable to ask for.
One of the most important things you learn early in medical school is that your ability to diagnose and treat is most directly affected by the quality of your history and physical. You can't rule out or rule in anything if you don't have all the appropriate information. Doctor-patient privilege is a powerful thing, allowing you to ask anything - with the understanding that the conversation is confidential, useful, and may help to solve the problem at hand.
I want that same ability for certain situations. I want to be able to call timeout on our normal relationship and deploy this higher standard of listening, but that's just not socially feasible most of the time. Now, I think this is usually fine when the problem is medical; people naturally expect to have to share details if they bring up a medical problem on their own. But with interpersonal problems, issues at work, or in academics, there is a level of discretion employed that you simply get to bypass in medicine.
If a friend is asking for serious non-medical advice, I go into "problem solving mode" (a close relative to "doctor mode"). It's fun. It turns even terrible situations into puzzles. If I can just see all the pieces, eventually I will solve it. But this is a false analogy. There are times when the broken pieces will never add up to a full picture. When problem solving doesn't help. When all a person needs is comfort and understanding. This is a scary route to desensitization and it is plotted out by the most benign and even well-meant reasoning.
For years we are trained to elicit a problem, break it down into useful pieces of information, elicit more info if needed, and then start offering solutions. That's great, usually. But in real life, we aren't hearing the problem from an exam prompt or even a patient in a clinical setting. These everyday questions come from friends, from family. They probably aren't telling you their troubles because you're a doctor or medical student, but because you are a person close to them who they can trust to listen and reassure them. Sometimes they already know the answer to their problem. Sometimes they aren't sharing everything because the problem is too personal and you figuring out the solution (using your mighty problem solving skills) will only bring more pain, not less.
To any med students reading this, try to keep in check the wonderful, powerful ability you are honing to someday save untold lives. Your ability to problem solve is part of what makes you special and able to apply the vast knowledge you are accumulating, but it also can isolate you from your fellow humans if you let it dominate your thought process.
TIL*: Uremic pericarditis kills dialysis patients in blizzards. This is part of why only certain vehicles are supposed to be on the road in snowstorms. The average healthy peron can go a couple days bundled up and playing board games. But if a person in renal failure can't get to a dialysis clinic (thanks to roads blocked by accidents or stranded cars) they die - often from this form of pericarditis (inflammation in the tissue and space surrounding the heart). Stay off the roads in an emergency!
*It's a new record! I'm three days late on posting this one, but I'll be damned if I don't maintain my post-per-day-of-class run. Apologies for the delay!