meaning what you say

2
learners being only transiently part of the ‘microsystem’ that is the clinical workplace, and thus isolated from the quality improvement systems that rely on good communication and cycles of review. Their article proposes that Flexner would be displeased by the ‘rotational dance’ in which trainees are engaged, and he advocates strongly for reforms to the system to allow competency- based training, educational con- tinuity and improved quality. REFERENCE 1. Flexner A. Medical Education in the United States and Canada: a Report to the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching. New York: Carnegie Foundation for the Advance- ment of Teaching; 1910. Meaning what you say Salmon P, Young B. Creativity in clinical communication: from communication skills to skilled communication. Med Educ 2011;45:In press. Communication skills training is well-embedded within medical curricula. It seems to be a self- evident truth: students need to be trained in the distinct skills of interpersonal communication in order to assemble them into comprehensive clinical communi- cation competencies for use in the workplace. Dr Peter Salmon and Dr Bridget Young (psychologists from the University of Liverpool, in the UK) both have extensive experience in clinical communication training. Their paper in this month’s issue of Medical Education presents the somewhat provocative proposition that clinical communication can- not be taught and assessed as discrete skills, but rather as a holistic and creative process. This must come as a relief to clinicians who have felt uncomfortable about the complexities of clinical communication being reduced to a series of check-box micro skills, taught in the same step-by-step fashion as the skills of information gathering through history and examination. Is it really possible to treat something as organic as clinical communication as if it were a ritualistic dance? In the evaluation of commu- nication skills (for student assessment or research purposes), this ‘atomisation’ of complex behaviours into actions that can be observed and coded misses much of the creativity of success- ful communication. The authors give examples of experienced practitioners intuitively ‘depart- ing from the rules’ in order to get a better outcome for patients. The skilled clinician makes a lightning judgement about the needs of their particular patient at that particular moment, and presents information in the most appropri- ate way. Their example of a sur- geon telling a cancer patient that her prognosis lay ‘in the hands of God’ is particularly compelling. The creative nature of clinical communication is presented as meaning that there are no rigid rules for effective communication with every patient in every context. Salmon and Young take particular exception to the use of the word ‘skills’ to describe communication tasks. Whereas an eye surgeon has a set of skills to implant a lens in a certain way or a pilot has the skill to land a plane in a thunderstorm, the communicating clinician is deal- ing with a situation in which the patient’s response is far less pre- dictable than that of an isolated organ or a plummeting plane. The patient’s experience of the clinician’s communication is entirely subjective, influenced by their personal and social con- texts. The authors also decry the focus on linking communication skills with specific outcomes, given that employing the same skill can achieve extremely variable results in different patients. So, too, a skill that is used without sincerity rings hol- low in the patient’s ears. My personal belief is that students should be disciplined for parrot- ing the phrase ‘I can see that must be difficult for you...’ with- out meaning it. The paper comes to the conclusion that a reductionist Clinical communication cannot be taught and assessed as discrete skills, but rather as a holistic and creative process 68 Ó Blackwell Publishing Ltd 2011. THE CLINICAL TEACHER 2011; 8: 67–70

Post on 21-Jul-2016

245 views

Category:

Documents


0 download

TRANSCRIPT

Page 1: Meaning what you say

learners being only transientlypart of the ‘microsystem’ that isthe clinical workplace, and thusisolated from the qualityimprovement systems that rely ongood communication and cyclesof review. Their article proposes

that Flexner would be displeasedby the ‘rotational dance’ in whichtrainees are engaged, and headvocates strongly for reforms tothe system to allow competency-based training, educational con-tinuity and improved quality.

REFERENCE

1. Flexner A. Medical Education in the

United States and Canada: a Report to

the Carnegie Foundation for the

Advancement of Teaching. New York:

Carnegie Foundation for the Advance-

ment of Teaching; 1910.

Meaning what you saySalmon P, Young B. Creativity in clinical

communication: from communication

skills to skilled communication. Med Educ

2011;45:In press.

Communication skills trainingis well-embedded within medicalcurricula. It seems to be a self-evident truth: students need to betrained in the distinct skills ofinterpersonal communication inorder to assemble them intocomprehensive clinical communi-cation competencies for use inthe workplace.

Dr Peter Salmon and Dr BridgetYoung (psychologists from theUniversity of Liverpool, in the UK)both have extensive experience inclinical communication training.Their paper in this month’s issue ofMedical Education presents thesomewhat provocative propositionthat clinical communication can-not be taught and assessed asdiscrete skills, but rather as aholistic and creative process. Thismust come as a relief to clinicianswho have felt uncomfortableabout the complexities of clinicalcommunication being reduced to aseries of check-box micro skills,taught in the same step-by-stepfashion as the skills of informationgathering through history andexamination. Is it really possibleto treat something as organic asclinical communication as if itwere a ritualistic dance?

In the evaluation of commu-nication skills (for studentassessment or research purposes),this ‘atomisation’ of complexbehaviours into actions that canbe observed and coded misses

much of the creativity of success-ful communication. The authorsgive examples of experiencedpractitioners intuitively ‘depart-ing from the rules’ in order to get abetter outcome for patients. Theskilled clinician makes a lightningjudgement about the needs oftheir particular patient at thatparticular moment, and presentsinformation in the most appropri-ate way. Their example of a sur-geon telling a cancer patient thather prognosis lay ‘in the hands ofGod’ is particularly compelling.The creative nature of clinicalcommunication is presented asmeaning that there are no rigidrules for effective communicationwith every patient in everycontext.

Salmon and Young takeparticular exception to the use ofthe word ‘skills’ to describecommunication tasks. Whereas aneye surgeon has a set of skills toimplant a lens in a certain way or

a pilot has the skill to land aplane in a thunderstorm, thecommunicating clinician is deal-ing with a situation in which thepatient’s response is far less pre-dictable than that of an isolatedorgan or a plummeting plane. Thepatient’s experience of theclinician’s communication isentirely subjective, influenced bytheir personal and social con-texts. The authors also decry thefocus on linking communicationskills with specific outcomes,given that employing the sameskill can achieve extremelyvariable results in differentpatients. So, too, a skill that isused without sincerity rings hol-low in the patient’s ears. Mypersonal belief is that studentsshould be disciplined for parrot-ing the phrase ‘I can see thatmust be difficult for you...’ with-out meaning it.

The paper comes to theconclusion that a reductionist

Clinicalcommunication

cannot betaught andassessed as

discrete skills,but rather as a

holistic andcreative process

68 � Blackwell Publishing Ltd 2011. THE CLINICAL TEACHER 2011; 8: 67–70

Page 2: Meaning what you say

approach to communicationtraining is in conflict with thebelief that communication is

intuitive and imaginative. It isan art rather than a science, andso ideas for effective training

may lie more within a humanis-tic paradigm than a scientificone.

Getting real: encounterswith patients duringproblem-based learningDiemers AD, van de Wiel MWJ, Scherp-

bier AJJA, Heineman E, Dolmans DHJM.

Pre-clinical patient contacts and the

application of biomedical and clinical

knowledge. Med Educ 2011;45:In press.

These researchers from theNetherlands venture intoimportant territory as they probethe impact of pre-clinical patientcontact with the early learning ofstudents. A concise introductionoutlines the approach that expe-rienced clinicians take to solvingproblems, activating their ‘infor-mal’ knowledge (recognising pat-terns of previously encounteredcases), while using their formaltraining to analyse the case fromboth a clinical and biomedicalpoint of view. As novices,students have little experienceon which to rely, and so have touse their basic biomedicalknowledge to explain clinicalpresentations.

Much of modern medical edu-cation is built around usingproblem-based learning cases tohelp students integrate theirknowledge networks for moreeffective diagnostic reasoning.Using real patients (rather thanpaper-based cases) helps studentsto be better engaged with thereasoning process, while alsoposing the risk that the studentwill be too seduced by thereal-life problem-solving taskto bother with cementingtheir pathophysiologicalknowledge. Being able to solve apatient’s clinical problem is

one thing; being able to explainhow the problem occurred isanother.

The research questions in thispaper relate to understandingmore about how biomedical andclinical knowledge is addressedwhen a real patient’s case is underconsideration by preclinicalstudents, and whether clinicallytrained tutors dominate thesediscussions. Three groups ofsenior pre-clinical studentsundertaking problem-based learn-ing cycles with 29 real patientswere selected. The cycles involvedthe groups preparing for theirpatient encounters in one sessionand then reporting back on theirexperiences afterwards. Tutorswere responsible in the first phasefor helping students to elaborateon the patients’ problems beforethe encounter, and then todiscuss them in depth afterwards,

forming connections betweentheir biomedical and clinicalknowledge.

The groups were observedand their discussions were codedinto ‘patient information’, ‘for-mal clinical knowledge’, ‘bio-medical knowledge’, ‘informalclinical knowledge’, ‘proceduralinformation’ and ‘other informa-tion’. The results indicate that –after presenting the cases theyhad seen – the students spent asubstantial proportion of theirtime exploring the biomedicalknowledge underpinning theclinical presentations, and thatthe tutors did not dominatethese discussions (although theywere more dominant during thepreparation phase of the cycle,albeit in a facilitative ratherthan a didactic style). Studentsused their biomedical knowledgeto explain the underlying

Using realpatients inproblem-basedlearning iseffective inmakingconnectionsbetweenbiomedical andclinicalknowledge

� Blackwell Publishing Ltd 2011. THE CLINICAL TEACHER 2011; 8: 67–70 69