As a recent medical school graduate who has enthusiastically embraced technology, I have no fears that my use of digital technologies handicaps me from sharing the human connection essential for a healing and therapeutic patient-physician relationship.
In medical school, I witnessed much fanfare surrounding the teaching and “importance” of the physical exam. Still I found myself somewhat suspicious of what I was being taught—would it really warrant a workup if a healthy patient displayed “diminished reflexes”? Would I really be able to elicit an abdominal fluid wave in an obese patient, and even if I did, wouldn’t the patient have more urgent symptoms and treatment dictated by more accurate diagnostic testing?
A few times I ventured to express my skepticism, and across the board, my instructors responded as if questioning any aspect of the traditional physical exam was an act of blasphemy. They all assured me it was “very important” and often had an obscure anecdote to illustrate this importance to me.
I tried so hard to believe them. Yet, once I hit the wards in third year, the clinicians’ actions spoke louder than words. Early on I took time to report the minor changes in the patients’ daily physical exams. With great care, I documented new murmurs and the onset of crackles. But quickly I realized that no one cared. If the patient did not have corresponding symptoms, these details were brushed off as a waste of time.
Still I tried to maintain my enthusiasm for the physical exam by doing mini presentations based on material from JAMA’s “Rational Clinical Examination” articles. During these presentations I sensed the attendings reminiscing and the residents appreciating the refreshers. Still, the information I presented seemed little more than a nostalgic intellectual exercise. When it came to patient care, I couldn’t help but notice how rarely we changed our treatment plans based on the clinical exam.
As I look forward to residency, I worry about the limited time I will have to spend with each patient. Knowing the time constraints, I do not want to waste time percussing my patient’s heart when an X-ray or echocardiogram is more efficient and accurate. Does this mean that I do not value human connection? Of course not. Fortunately, I do not need the excuse of an obsolete physical exam maneuver to touch my patient. In forgoing the unnecessary exam, I will have time to take the patient’s hand in my own and ask her what scares the most or how we can make him more comfortable.
Please be assured I am not suggesting the physical exam is obsolete. The physical exam was and always will be an indispensable tool to diagnose and treat patients. Indeed it is imperative we continue to teach and maintain these essential skills. Acknowledging the technological advances in medicine and teaching a strategically streamlined exam would allow educators more time to emphasize the human connection and teach students skills to better connect and relate to their patients.
In his article, A Touch of Sense, Dr. Abraham Verghese extols the importance of the physical exam as a means to convey the message, “I will always, always be there, I will see you through this, I will never abandon you, I will be with you through the end.” Call me crazy, but I hope to take the time saved by my digital technologies and gently place my hand on the patient’s shoulder, look them squarely in the eye, and share the same message in my own words. Technology will never replace this privilege of human connection.