We're Not Special
Listen up. This is important.
We're not special.
I know this may be difficult for you to hear, given that your specialaciousness seems so sparkling and pervasive to you, but I think it's about time you heard the truth. Unless you can bend spoons, you are almost certainly not all that. Someone had to say it.
Here's where we're at: you have at your disposal hundreds, maybe even thousands, of puny details about the human digestive system. You can expound poetically on the wonders of neuroendocrine tumors. In any given room, you are the authority on perirectal abscesses and anal fistuli. Congratulations. You're a star!
Glamorous as it may seem to be the resident know-it-all, an unfortunate consequence of being medical students is that we haven't looked up from our books all that much. In the words of Ferris Bueller, "Life moves pretty fast—if you don't stop to look around once in a while, you could miss it."
One of the many perils of a life in medicine results from exposure to a gaggle of nosocomial infections that can threaten the very fabric of your character. The most serious of these ailments are the IRS (I'm Really Something) virus and hyperplasia of the ego, both of which can prove fatal to humility and general good will and can, even in their mildest forms, eliminate you from my inner circle. That should bother you.
The thing is we're medical students. We're supposed to know things about medicine. If you're reading as much as you say you are and you don't know a thing or two, well, maybe you need glasses. Having access to minutiae doesn’t make us special. It’s true that you could win millions on Medical Jeopardy, but you think I care?
"But we are responsible for human lives," you say. "We lay our hands on people." If those things made a person special, then airline pilots and masseuses would be revered as movie stars. Talk about happy endings!
Oh, and Alec Baldwin? He’s special.
What I'm trying to say is simple: in this day and age, honesty and integrity are just about the only things that can set a person apart from your average Joe. Sure, genius can make a fellow interesting, but I have yet to meet a genius in the flesh. When I do, you'll be the first to know.
Auto mechanics can replace your carburetor and change your oil. Plumbers can fish the hairballs out of your pipes. Doctors can perform splenectomies and prescribe the appropriate antibiotics for your staph infection. Big whoop! I can pat my head and rub my belly at the same time.
A physician at one of Mount Sinai's gleaming affiliates once told me that intelligence can actually hamper a good physician. A strong work ethic, he said, is prerequisite, but intelligence can be the kiss of death. If you don't agree, ask yourself this: would any intelligent person sign up for this?
Now, some of you may be thinking, “I’m special! I really, really am!” Well, maybe that’s true, but it probably isn’t because you’re in Medicine. Too many of us use this career (and it is a career, just like accounting) as a get-out-of-jail-free card. We volunteer to help the homeless, we donate blood, we dedicate ourselves to caring for the underprivileged. Our chests expand with self-satisfaction and our egos swell like floats at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, but do you really think we’re so different from everyone else? Doctors sometimes cheat on their taxes. Doctors lie from time to time. Some even pay cash money to see Sandra Bullock movies. We’re not special. You’ll be a better doctor if you just accept it.
So, if our school has chosen appropriately, we are the hardest working, most diligent bunch they could dig up on short notice. I'm impressed, as much with myself as with you.
There are millions of similarly gifted individuals out there waiting to take our places. We are not an endangered species. We’re not special. Say it with me.
Be generous. Be sincere. Be compassionate. We may not be special, but that’s no reason to stop trying.
Mount Sinai Mosaic: Aug/Sep 2003
We're not special.
I know this may be difficult for you to hear, given that your specialaciousness seems so sparkling and pervasive to you, but I think it's about time you heard the truth. Unless you can bend spoons, you are almost certainly not all that. Someone had to say it.
Here's where we're at: you have at your disposal hundreds, maybe even thousands, of puny details about the human digestive system. You can expound poetically on the wonders of neuroendocrine tumors. In any given room, you are the authority on perirectal abscesses and anal fistuli. Congratulations. You're a star!
Glamorous as it may seem to be the resident know-it-all, an unfortunate consequence of being medical students is that we haven't looked up from our books all that much. In the words of Ferris Bueller, "Life moves pretty fast—if you don't stop to look around once in a while, you could miss it."
One of the many perils of a life in medicine results from exposure to a gaggle of nosocomial infections that can threaten the very fabric of your character. The most serious of these ailments are the IRS (I'm Really Something) virus and hyperplasia of the ego, both of which can prove fatal to humility and general good will and can, even in their mildest forms, eliminate you from my inner circle. That should bother you.
The thing is we're medical students. We're supposed to know things about medicine. If you're reading as much as you say you are and you don't know a thing or two, well, maybe you need glasses. Having access to minutiae doesn’t make us special. It’s true that you could win millions on Medical Jeopardy, but you think I care?
"But we are responsible for human lives," you say. "We lay our hands on people." If those things made a person special, then airline pilots and masseuses would be revered as movie stars. Talk about happy endings!
Oh, and Alec Baldwin? He’s special.
What I'm trying to say is simple: in this day and age, honesty and integrity are just about the only things that can set a person apart from your average Joe. Sure, genius can make a fellow interesting, but I have yet to meet a genius in the flesh. When I do, you'll be the first to know.
Auto mechanics can replace your carburetor and change your oil. Plumbers can fish the hairballs out of your pipes. Doctors can perform splenectomies and prescribe the appropriate antibiotics for your staph infection. Big whoop! I can pat my head and rub my belly at the same time.
A physician at one of Mount Sinai's gleaming affiliates once told me that intelligence can actually hamper a good physician. A strong work ethic, he said, is prerequisite, but intelligence can be the kiss of death. If you don't agree, ask yourself this: would any intelligent person sign up for this?
Now, some of you may be thinking, “I’m special! I really, really am!” Well, maybe that’s true, but it probably isn’t because you’re in Medicine. Too many of us use this career (and it is a career, just like accounting) as a get-out-of-jail-free card. We volunteer to help the homeless, we donate blood, we dedicate ourselves to caring for the underprivileged. Our chests expand with self-satisfaction and our egos swell like floats at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, but do you really think we’re so different from everyone else? Doctors sometimes cheat on their taxes. Doctors lie from time to time. Some even pay cash money to see Sandra Bullock movies. We’re not special. You’ll be a better doctor if you just accept it.
So, if our school has chosen appropriately, we are the hardest working, most diligent bunch they could dig up on short notice. I'm impressed, as much with myself as with you.
There are millions of similarly gifted individuals out there waiting to take our places. We are not an endangered species. We’re not special. Say it with me.
Be generous. Be sincere. Be compassionate. We may not be special, but that’s no reason to stop trying.
Mount Sinai Mosaic: Aug/Sep 2003
posted by Michael Novick at 11:45 PM
0 comments
