|
Virtual Mentor. December 2006, Volume 8, Number 12: 818-825. Medical Education The Educational Value of International ElectivesA medical student, resident and long-time physician volunteer tell medical students how to make the most of international elective experiences.Justin List, MAR, Rebecca Hope, MD, and by John Tarpley, MD, and Margaret Tarpley, MLS In this three-part medical education article, a student, a resident and a clinician-educator share their experiences of voluntary global health service with Virtual Mentor readers. Learning to listen in a resource-poor international setting: a medical student’s encounter with the power of narrative in Kenya After talking with a woman who was living with HIV and caring for an HIV-positive child in the resource-poor community of Kawangware in Nairobi and completing a public health needs assessment for her, one of my medical school colleagues posed the following question to our volunteer group as we were working at the clinic: “What do I say to her at the end of the needs assessment when she asks me if I have hope that she’ll live?” I remained silent. How can I as a healthy, educated, middle-class medical student from the United States answer a question so outside the context of my daily life? Given my position of relative global power as an American citizen and consumer, can I offer her more than words of solidarity or a prayer? What new moral claims do I feel placed upon me by these global neighbors as they let me into some of the most intimate parts of their lives? These questions were just the beginning of a larger personal reflection that grew from dozens of interviews with members of various resource-poor communities in Kenya and from discussions among seven of my fellow volunteers [1]. Most members of the group had just completed their first year of medical school only days before we arrived in Nairobi. As we laid the framework for our trip, we had decided that we wanted to experience an international service learning trip through the lens of public health by using a needs assessment to understand how social determinants of health impacted the lives of those we interviewed. We also designed health education modules covering hand sanitation and HIV transmission prevention. Compared to the modules, however, the needs assessments spoke volumes to us as illustrated by the eagerness to cooperate on the part of many of our participants. For some of those interviewed, it was the first time they had ever felt listened to, as we found out from them or their translators. And hearing about the power of having a voice and feeling heard illustrated for me a learning point that I might have missed had I come to Kenya primarily to study the science of medicine. I could have easily done just that given the disproportionate infectious disease burden there. As a person who feels “heard” more often than not, I realized that these survey participants were teaching me more about the art of medicine than I might have expected at first glance. I quickly realized how valuable it was to ask comprehensive questions about their lives and experiences, the answers to which informed my understanding of how their health was shaped beyond the ailments of HIV or malaria they might have had at that moment. I did learn some of the science of medicine, though, if not explicitly clinical. We used a needs assessment to acquire quantitative and qualitative data that—we hope—will serve the community through its analysis. But because we designed this trip from a public health perspective and left the stethoscope and Bates’ Guide to Physical Examination and History Taking behind, my education in the art of the medicine remained a key component of my experience in Kenya. Being invited for just a glimpse into some of the most unjust and difficult life stories imaginable demonstrated to me how powerful narrative (and the skill of listening) can be in the patient encounter. I did not need to go to Kenya to understand this clinical pearl, but it was there that I most acutely did. I suspect other students also experience this abroad if not in resource-poor areas of the United States. Paul Farmer writes, “We need to listen to the sick and abused and to those most likely to have their rights violated. Whether they are nearby or far away, we know, often enough, who they are. The abused offer, to those willing to listen, critiques far sharper than our own” [2]. I experienced this “sharper critique” as stories of dying from tuberculosis and AIDS-related illness, stories of poverty and a lack of employment, of abuse and, yet, stories of hope, love and faith poured out from the mouths of Kenyan men and women and onto my feeble survey, a document I could bury myself in when the raw emotion of the situation hit me. Medical students working abroad in resource-poor, low-income settings will encounter a host of experiences and confront a variety of feelings, perhaps including some I have described. Students bring a rich array of experiences and feelings with them that affect their ability to truly listen to the content of the patient’s words, and it is to our benefit to explore these feelings before, during and after our international immersion. Like me, students may find themselves seeking clarification about how to incorporate international health care into their future careers after short-term, life-changing work. And medical students traveling abroad for the first time in their burgeoning professional capacity should be prepared to expect the unexpected despite extensive planning and pre-trip education; to experience complementary or conflicting feelings of duty, ignorance, education, helplessness and purpose all in a matter of days or weeks; to anticipate an unfolding lifetime of further professional and vocational reflection and action. Remaining truly present and attentive may be the most difficult aspect of learning the art of listening in medicine, especially where unfamiliar contexts, cross-cultural issues and language barriers coexist. As physicians-in-training, we have a potentially easy exit—turning our focus to the rigmarole of the chart, looking down at the survey with intent, deflecting a consideration of the often difficult-to-comprehend social determinants of health or concentrating on the biomedical components of the present illness. For me, listening to these difficult stories took more energy at times than I could have imagined listening could possibly require. And yet listening is a skill that we as medical students must continue to practice consciously as we discover our personal limits in relation to our pursuit of justice and caring for patients holistically. Listening is an end unto itself, but it is also a means and a beginning to addressing aspects of patients’ lives that lie outside but impact the biomedical context. In seeking out patient narrative, especially in international resource-poor settings, we must ask questions (in a culturally sensitive manner) to which we may fear to know the answers, answers that expose injustice yet open a new world of possibility to the patient and physician. Justin M. List, MAR, a former fellow at the American Medical Association’s Institute for Ethics, is a second-year medical student at Loyola University Chicago Stritch School of Medicine. He received his master’s degree with a concentration in ethics from Yale University Divinity School and worked at Yale’s Interdisciplinary Center for Bioethics. Doctor without borders or doctor without qualifications? How to be of use and stay safe on international student placements It is likely that as a medical student you will learn more from an overseas placement in a low-income country than you feel able to offer. Faced with unfamiliar diseases and living in extreme poverty, patients seek medical care much later than you would imagine. Operating with limited resources tests your clinical skills when diagnostic investigations are rationed or unavailable. Immersion in a second language taxes your communication skills and ability to establish rapport. Working in a different culture will indeed foster understanding, tolerance and patience, and you may return with startlingly different ideas about the world and perhaps more questions than answers about what is happening on our planet. In light of all this, how can medical students try to make their time overseas effective for their hosts and patients? An early venture to Nepal after my second year of medical training made me acutely aware of my limitations in the face of these challenges and inspired me to find out more before returning to international work. I offer some tips here to help you make the most of overseas placements. Most of those who want to work in low-income countries do so in response to the humanist imperative: to help where there is need. As medics we are equipped with skills to benefit that most precious of possessions, human life. Where health workers are in short supply and the burden of disease weighs heavily, doctors can be of great help. But without careful planning, students may find themselves unsure of their role and uncertain about whether they help or hinder the work of their host organization. Many students have found themselves out of their depth, asked to perform unfamiliar procedures with less supervision than they would have had at home. You may be, as I was, welcomed as the “overseas doctor” and, by virtue of foreign training, expected to have superior skills. As much as you feel ready to meet these challenges and gain practical experience, you are ethically—and perhaps legally—on shaky ground if you undertake the role of doctor without qualifications. Be aware of your limitations and discuss your level of experience and knowledge with your hosts beforehand. Do your best to familiarize yourself with local conditions, treatments and the social context before you arrive. Be frank about what you hope to gain and agree to a suitable program or research project of mutual benefit. As students, you have much to offer; it may be that teaching English to health workers and students is the most useful thing you can do. Share expertise with local students and bring teaching aids or textbooks, and you’ll contribute to a long-term investment. With the question of sustainability in mind, even experienced humanitarian workers return home asking, “Was my work of any use?” The fact that you have come and that you care, through work and through friendships, builds solidarity with overseas colleagues. It is worth thinking about how you can continue the support at home, through hospital or medical school partnerships and professional exchanges. International rotations, if well-organized, are a valuable learning opportunity and introduction to international health work. Look forward to it and plan it well. There are some ills that medicine cannot cure, but an ability to see the bigger picture, the social, economic and public health issues surrounding each patient, will make you a better doctor…wherever you choose to work.
Rebecca Hope, MD, is a junior doctor working in Cornwall, England. She became involved in international health through Europe’s first bachelor of science program in International Health at University College London’s International Health and Medical Education Centre. She has worked on projects with Save the Children, the Centre for International Child Health in London and Gudalur Adivasi Hospital, India, to study and improve community-based health insurance in low-income settings. How can medical students be prepared for international rotations? Medical students seeking information about the feasibility of an international experience contact us regularly with questions about initiating the process. We encourage their interest because of the global perspective they will gain from interacting with diverse and often underserved populations. Added benefits include enhanced cultural sensitivity toward patients and professional coworkers in a field that is increasingly international. Many students also find they’ve broadened their career options as a result of global health service. The first meeting or correspondence with students, often before they have settled on a particular nation or continent, involves getting acquainted and asking several questions: Why do you want to go? What do you want to accomplish? How much time can you commit? Students are motivated by a combination of the desire to serve, interest in academic research, curiosity about non-Western medical education and training and a wish for personal enrichment. Those who express humanitarian or faith-based ideals usually seek to be useful in whatever way an institution can employ a person with limited medical skills. Some hope to design a research project, while others desire to experience an exotic environment, with medical practice being only one aspect of the cultural enrichment they seek. The opportunity to interact with local medical students or residents might determine the choice. Any research project requires institutional review board approval or exemption from approval on the part of the home and the host institutions. The length of time a student can commit affects both the possibility of school credit for the rotation and the availability of funding sources. The specific requirements for credit and funding should be explored carefully. Longer stays may benefit the host because the student becomes more productive after learning the system. Settling on a mutually compatible time frame is often surprisingly complex, thus necessitating an early start when planning. Advice for the medical student seeking an international rotation Considerations essential to each student’s decision include cost, language and culture, visas, skills, health and safety issues and the educational benefits. Airfare is usually the single greatest expense. Sources of support are rare, although some medical schools provide limited assistance. International institutions almost never offer funding but may assist with housing. If English or another language in which the student is conversant is not the dominant language of the area, he or she must make certain that adequate translation services are available. Language difficulties compound adjustment frustrations and reduce a student’s usefulness. Likewise, students should examine their other skills and assets. In addition to the knowledge and skills acquired in the first years of medical school, some institutions may value computer expertise, English language teaching aptitude or a knack for simple repairs. Suggestions for students overseas
As you begin working, remember that you are a guest; be respectful and polite. Treat host physicians with the same respect shown to physicians in the U.S. Do not use first names with any hospital personnel unless they insist upon it. Titles such as doctor, mister, professor or madam are always correct. Offering gratuitous advice on how to improve procedures or infrastructure will be received politely but will be neither appreciated nor acted upon. “Now in Nashville, we do it this way,” is as annoying in an international setting as it would be in Dallas or Milwaukee. Water and electricity are often precious and intermittent, so practice economy in their use and have a good attitude towards conditions that are the norm for your hosts. Culture shock is normal and rarely fatal Appreciate the value of a “high touch, low tech” medical practice by observing that health professionals take careful histories and perform thorough physical exams when MRIs and sophisticated lab tests are unavailable. Emphasize the positive aspects of the experience. Honesty is in order, but focusing on problems may be viewed as culturally insensitive and hamper other students from obtaining an invitation from that medical center. As the experience draws to a close, make certain you take away more than souvenirs. Perhaps you might learn a greeting (Africans often ask, “How is your family?” rather than “How are you?”) or adopt a procedure (Nigerian pediatricians have the mother hold the child during a routine well-baby check-up) or request a recipe. The international experience is a two-way street. What is acquired frequently outweighs what is given if a person is open and intent on gaining new insights and strategies. John L. Tarpley, MD, is professor of surgery, program director for general surgery and a master clinical teacher at the Vanderbilt University School of Medicine in Nashville, Tenn. International health, history of medicine and the role of spirituality in clinical medicine are areas of particular interest to him. In October 2006, he won the American College of Surgeons Volunteerism Award. Margaret Tarpley, MLS, is an associate in surgery education at Vanderbilt University School of Medicine in Nashville, Tenn. She conducts bibliographical research and is a Web master for the Association of Program Directors in Surgery. Related in VMDo international experiences develop cultural sensitivity among medical students and residents? December 2006 The “ethical imperative” of global health service, December 2006 A caution against medical student tourism, December 2006 A student clinical experience in Africa: Who are we helping? December 2006
The viewpoints expressed on this site are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the AMA.
© 2006 American Medical Association. All Rights Reserved. |