Career

Salaries for millennial physicians are slightly increasing, but clinicians still face pay disparities across location, practice type, and gender.

Medscape Medical News reviewed survey data from more than 1200 practicing doctors under age 40 across 29 specialties over a 4-month period starting in October 2023.

The average annual total compensation (including any bonuses) for young clinicians rose from $326,000 to $338,000, about 4%, between 2022 and 2023. Among millennials, primary care physicians saw a 5% increase. But a large pay gap exists between fields: Specialists under age 40 earned an average of $357,000 in 2023, compared with the average primary care clinician salary of $271,000.

“Procedures are reimbursed too high, while very little value is placed on primary care,” one survey respondent complained.

The type of practice plays a major part in compensation. Millennial doctors in office-based, single-specialty group practices earned an average of $358,000 per year, followed by those in office-based multispecialty group practices at 355,000 per year. Those in outpatient clinics earned $278,000 per year.

“I believe the practice situation is a huge portion of compensation,” said Tiffany Di Pietro, DO, a cardiologist and internal medicine physician in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. “Owning your own private practice is generally more lucrative (if you have good business sense), but it is also quite a bit more time-consuming, whereas employed physicians usually make less but have fewer concerns with staffing and overhead.”

Like in previous years, a gender pay gap equated to men outearning women. Female physicians under age 40 of any kind earned about $302,000 per year, 24% less than their male counterparts, on average.

Millennial doctors in the Midwest brought home the biggest earnings, with an average salary of $343,000 vs $332,000 on the West Coast.

Millennial physicians also reported higher levels of dissatisfaction. In the 2022 report, 46% said they were not paid fairly. That figure rose to 49%. Just 68% of millennial doctors would choose medicine again if they could do things over, down from 76% in the 2021 report.

“Doctors go through multiple years of school and then have to act like we are working at Dunkin’ Donuts — like we’re on an assembly line,” one survey respondent said. “We should not have to be paid per patient seen but valued for 8-9 years of training.”

Despite these complaints, close to 7 out of 10 millennial respondents said pay was not a major factor in what area of medicine they chose, with 29% saying it played no role at all in their decision.

Psychiatrists and anesthesiologists were the happiest with their earnings, with 61% of both specialties reporting that they felt fairly paid. They were followed by dermatologists and emergency medicine doctors, both of whom 60% reported fair earnings.

Many millennial doctors are finding ways to make money outside of their practice, with 18% securing other medical-related work, 15% doing medical moonlighting, and 5% taking on non–medical-related work.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Salaries for millennial physicians are slightly increasing, but clinicians still face pay disparities across location, practice type, and gender.

Medscape Medical News reviewed survey data from more than 1200 practicing doctors under age 40 across 29 specialties over a 4-month period starting in October 2023.

The average annual total compensation (including any bonuses) for young clinicians rose from $326,000 to $338,000, about 4%, between 2022 and 2023. Among millennials, primary care physicians saw a 5% increase. But a large pay gap exists between fields: Specialists under age 40 earned an average of $357,000 in 2023, compared with the average primary care clinician salary of $271,000.

“Procedures are reimbursed too high, while very little value is placed on primary care,” one survey respondent complained.

The type of practice plays a major part in compensation. Millennial doctors in office-based, single-specialty group practices earned an average of $358,000 per year, followed by those in office-based multispecialty group practices at 355,000 per year. Those in outpatient clinics earned $278,000 per year.

“I believe the practice situation is a huge portion of compensation,” said Tiffany Di Pietro, DO, a cardiologist and internal medicine physician in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. “Owning your own private practice is generally more lucrative (if you have good business sense), but it is also quite a bit more time-consuming, whereas employed physicians usually make less but have fewer concerns with staffing and overhead.”

Like in previous years, a gender pay gap equated to men outearning women. Female physicians under age 40 of any kind earned about $302,000 per year, 24% less than their male counterparts, on average.

Millennial doctors in the Midwest brought home the biggest earnings, with an average salary of $343,000 vs $332,000 on the West Coast.

Millennial physicians also reported higher levels of dissatisfaction. In the 2022 report, 46% said they were not paid fairly. That figure rose to 49%. Just 68% of millennial doctors would choose medicine again if they could do things over, down from 76% in the 2021 report.

“Doctors go through multiple years of school and then have to act like we are working at Dunkin’ Donuts — like we’re on an assembly line,” one survey respondent said. “We should not have to be paid per patient seen but valued for 8-9 years of training.”

Despite these complaints, close to 7 out of 10 millennial respondents said pay was not a major factor in what area of medicine they chose, with 29% saying it played no role at all in their decision.

Psychiatrists and anesthesiologists were the happiest with their earnings, with 61% of both specialties reporting that they felt fairly paid. They were followed by dermatologists and emergency medicine doctors, both of whom 60% reported fair earnings.

Many millennial doctors are finding ways to make money outside of their practice, with 18% securing other medical-related work, 15% doing medical moonlighting, and 5% taking on non–medical-related work.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Salaries for millennial physicians are slightly increasing, but clinicians still face pay disparities across location, practice type, and gender.

Medscape Medical News reviewed survey data from more than 1200 practicing doctors under age 40 across 29 specialties over a 4-month period starting in October 2023.

The average annual total compensation (including any bonuses) for young clinicians rose from $326,000 to $338,000, about 4%, between 2022 and 2023. Among millennials, primary care physicians saw a 5% increase. But a large pay gap exists between fields: Specialists under age 40 earned an average of $357,000 in 2023, compared with the average primary care clinician salary of $271,000.

“Procedures are reimbursed too high, while very little value is placed on primary care,” one survey respondent complained.

The type of practice plays a major part in compensation. Millennial doctors in office-based, single-specialty group practices earned an average of $358,000 per year, followed by those in office-based multispecialty group practices at 355,000 per year. Those in outpatient clinics earned $278,000 per year.

“I believe the practice situation is a huge portion of compensation,” said Tiffany Di Pietro, DO, a cardiologist and internal medicine physician in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. “Owning your own private practice is generally more lucrative (if you have good business sense), but it is also quite a bit more time-consuming, whereas employed physicians usually make less but have fewer concerns with staffing and overhead.”

Like in previous years, a gender pay gap equated to men outearning women. Female physicians under age 40 of any kind earned about $302,000 per year, 24% less than their male counterparts, on average.

Millennial doctors in the Midwest brought home the biggest earnings, with an average salary of $343,000 vs $332,000 on the West Coast.

Millennial physicians also reported higher levels of dissatisfaction. In the 2022 report, 46% said they were not paid fairly. That figure rose to 49%. Just 68% of millennial doctors would choose medicine again if they could do things over, down from 76% in the 2021 report.

“Doctors go through multiple years of school and then have to act like we are working at Dunkin’ Donuts — like we’re on an assembly line,” one survey respondent said. “We should not have to be paid per patient seen but valued for 8-9 years of training.”

Despite these complaints, close to 7 out of 10 millennial respondents said pay was not a major factor in what area of medicine they chose, with 29% saying it played no role at all in their decision.

Psychiatrists and anesthesiologists were the happiest with their earnings, with 61% of both specialties reporting that they felt fairly paid. They were followed by dermatologists and emergency medicine doctors, both of whom 60% reported fair earnings.

Many millennial doctors are finding ways to make money outside of their practice, with 18% securing other medical-related work, 15% doing medical moonlighting, and 5% taking on non–medical-related work.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A medical student’s life is an endless cycle of classes, exams, clinical rotations, and residency preparation. While students typically have little free time, some still manage to build a mega social media presence. On TikTok and Instagram, among other sites, they share medical school experiences and lessons learned in the classroom and advocate for causes such as increased diversity and gender rights in the medical field.

This news organization caught up with a few social media influencers with a large online following to learn how medical students can effectively use social media to build a professional brand and network. Most of the students interviewed said that their social media platforms offered an opportunity to educate others about significant medical developments, feel part of a community with a like-minded audience, and network with doctors who may lead them to a future residency or career path.

Many med students said that they built their large audiences by creating a platform for people of their ethnic background, nationality, race, gender, or simply what others weren’t already talking about. They said they saw a niche in social media that was missing or others hadn’t tackled in the same way.

When Joel Bervell began med school in 2020, he questioned some of the lessons he learned about how race is used in medical practice, which didn’t make sense to him. So, he began his own research. He had about 2000 followers on Instagram at the time.

Mr. Bervell read a new study about pulse oximeters and how they often produce misleading readings on patients with dark skin.

He wondered why he hadn’t learned this in medical school, so he posted it on TikTok. Within 24 hours, about 500,000 people viewed it. Most of the comments were from doctors, nurses, and physician assistants who said they weren’t aware of the disparity.

While his initial posts detailed his journey to medical school and a day-in-the-life of a medical student, he transitioned to posts primarily about race, health equity, and what he perceives as racial bias in medicine.

Now, the fourth-year Ghanaian-American student at the Elson S. Floyd College of Medicine at Washington State University Spokane has close to 1.2 million followers on Instagram and TikTok combined. He frequently visits the White House to advise on social media’s influence on healthcare and has appeared on the Kelly Clarkson Show, Good Morning America, CNN, and ABC, among others.

He said he also uses social media to translate complex medical information for a general audience, many of whom access health information online so they can manage their own healthcare. He sees his social media work as an extension of his medical education, allowing him to delve deeper into subjects and report on them as if he were publishing research in a medical journal.

“When I came to medical school, yes, I wanted to be a doctor. But I also wanted to impact people.” Social media allows him to educate many more people than individual patients, the 29-year-old told this news organization.
 

Inspiring Minorities

Tabhata Paulet, 27, started her TikTok presence as a premed student in 2021. She aimed to provide free resources to help low-income, first-generation Latinx students like herself study for standardized exams.

“I always looked online for guidance and resources, and the medical influencers did not share a similar background. So, I shared my story and what I had to do as a first-generation and first person in my family to become a physician. I did not have access to the same resources as my peers,” said Ms. Paulet, who was born in Peru and came to New Jersey as a child.

Students who are Hispanic, Latinx, or of Spanish origin made up 6.8% of total medical school enrollment in 2023-2024, up slightly from 6.7% in 2022-2023, according to the Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC).

Ms. Paulet’s online presence grew when she began documenting her experiences as a first-year medical student, bridging the language barrier for Spanish-speaking patients so they could understand their diagnosis and treatment. She often posts about health disparity and barriers to care for underserved communities.

Most of her nearly 22,000 followers are Hispanic, said the now fourth-year student at Rutgers New Jersey Medical School in Newark, New Jersey. “I talk a lot about my interesting Spanish-speaking patients ... and how sometimes speaking their native language truly makes a difference in their care.”

She believes that she serves an important role in social media. “It can be very inspirational for those who come after you [in med school] to see someone from a similar culture and upbringing.”
 

Creating a Community

It was during a therapy session 4 years ago that Jeremy “JP” Scott decided to share Instagram posts about his experiences as a nontraditional medical student. The 37-year-old was studying at Ross University School of Medicine in Barbados and was feeling lonely as an international medical student training to be a doctor as a second career.

Before starting med school, Mr. Scott was an adjunct professor and lab supervisor at the University of Hartford Biology Department, West Hartford, Connecticut, and then a research assistant and lab manager at the Wistar Institute in Philadelphia.

Although he wanted to follow his mother’s path to becoming a doctor, it was more difficult than he envisioned, said the fourth-year student who completed clinical rotations in the United States and is now applying for residencies.

“I talked about how medical school is not what it appears to be ... There are a lot of challenges we are going through,” especially as people of color, he said.

Mr. Scott believes social media helps people feel included and less alone. He said many of his followers are med students and physicians.

His posts often focus on LGBTQIA+ pride and being a minority as a Black man in medicine.

“The pandemic spurred a lot of us. We had a racial reckoning in our country at the time. It inspired us to talk as Black creators and Black medical students.”

Black or African American medical students made up 8.5% of total med school enrollment in 2023-2024, a slight increase from 2022 to 2023, according to AAMC figures. Black men represented 7% of total enrollment in 2023-2024, while Black women represented 9.8%.

After only a handful of online posts in which Mr. Scott candidly discussed his mental health struggles and relationships, he attracted the attention of several medical apparel companies, including the popular FIGS scrubs. He’s now an ambassador for the company, which supports him and his content.

“My association with FIGS has helped attract a wider online audience, increasing my presence.” Today, he has 14,000 Instagram followers. “It opened up so many opportunities,” Mr. Scott said. One example is working with the national LGBTQIA+ community.

“The goal was never to be a social media influencer, to gain sponsorships or photo opportunities,” he said.

“My job, first, is as a medical student. Everything else is second. I am not trying to be a professional social media personality. I’m trying to be an actual physician.” He also tries to separate JP “social media” from Jeremy, the medical student.

“On Instagram, anyone can pull it up and see what you’re doing. The last thing I want is for them to think that I’m not serious about what I’m doing, that I’m not here to learn and become a doctor.”
 

Benefits and Drawbacks

Ms. Paulet said her social media following helped her connect with leaders in the Latinx medical community, including an obstetrics anesthesiologist, her intended specialty. “I don’t think I’d be able to do that without a social media platform.”

Her online activity also propelled her from regional to national leadership in the Latino Medical Student Association (LMSA). She now also runs their Instagram page, which has 14,000 followers.

Mr. Bervell believes social media is a great way to network. He’s connected with people he wouldn’t have met otherwise, including physicians. “I think it will help me get into a residency,” he said. “It allows people to know who you are ... They will be able to tell in a few videos the type of doctor I want to be.”

On the other hand, Mr. Bervell is aware of the negative impacts of social media on mental health. “You can get lost in social media.” For that reason, he often tries to disconnect. “I can go days without my phone.”

Posting on social media can be time-consuming, Mr. Bervell admitted. He said he spent about 2 hours a day researching, editing, and posting on TikTok when he first started building his following. Now, he spends about 2-3 hours a week creating videos. “I don’t post every day anymore. I don’t have the time.”

When she started building her TikTok presence, Ms. Paulet said she devoted 15 hours a week to the endeavor, but now she spends 10-12 hours a week posting online, including on LMSA’s Instagram page. “Whenever you are done with an exam or have a study break, this is something fun to do.” She also says you never know who you’re going to inspire when you put yourself out there.

“Talk about your journey, rotations, or your experience in your first or second year of medical school. Talk about milestones like board exams.”
 

Word to the Wise

Some students may be concerned that their posts might affect a potential residency program. But the medical students interviewed say they want to find programs that align with their values and accept them for who they are.

Mr. Scott said he’s not worried about someone not liking him because of who he is. “I am Black and openly gay. If it’s a problem, I don’t need to work with you or your institution.”

Mr. Bervell stressed that medical students should stay professional online. “I reach 5-10 million people a month, and I have to think: Would I want them to see this? You have to know at all times that someone is watching. I’m very careful about how I post. I script out every video.”

Mr. Scott agreed. He advises those interested in becoming medical influencers to know what they can’t post online. For example, to ensure safety and privacy, Mr. Scott doesn’t take photos in the hospital, show his medical badge, or post patient information. “You want to be respectful of your future medical profession,” he said.

“If it’s something my mother would be ashamed of, I don’t need to post about it.”
 

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A medical student’s life is an endless cycle of classes, exams, clinical rotations, and residency preparation. While students typically have little free time, some still manage to build a mega social media presence. On TikTok and Instagram, among other sites, they share medical school experiences and lessons learned in the classroom and advocate for causes such as increased diversity and gender rights in the medical field.

This news organization caught up with a few social media influencers with a large online following to learn how medical students can effectively use social media to build a professional brand and network. Most of the students interviewed said that their social media platforms offered an opportunity to educate others about significant medical developments, feel part of a community with a like-minded audience, and network with doctors who may lead them to a future residency or career path.

Many med students said that they built their large audiences by creating a platform for people of their ethnic background, nationality, race, gender, or simply what others weren’t already talking about. They said they saw a niche in social media that was missing or others hadn’t tackled in the same way.

When Joel Bervell began med school in 2020, he questioned some of the lessons he learned about how race is used in medical practice, which didn’t make sense to him. So, he began his own research. He had about 2000 followers on Instagram at the time.

Mr. Bervell read a new study about pulse oximeters and how they often produce misleading readings on patients with dark skin.

He wondered why he hadn’t learned this in medical school, so he posted it on TikTok. Within 24 hours, about 500,000 people viewed it. Most of the comments were from doctors, nurses, and physician assistants who said they weren’t aware of the disparity.

While his initial posts detailed his journey to medical school and a day-in-the-life of a medical student, he transitioned to posts primarily about race, health equity, and what he perceives as racial bias in medicine.

Now, the fourth-year Ghanaian-American student at the Elson S. Floyd College of Medicine at Washington State University Spokane has close to 1.2 million followers on Instagram and TikTok combined. He frequently visits the White House to advise on social media’s influence on healthcare and has appeared on the Kelly Clarkson Show, Good Morning America, CNN, and ABC, among others.

He said he also uses social media to translate complex medical information for a general audience, many of whom access health information online so they can manage their own healthcare. He sees his social media work as an extension of his medical education, allowing him to delve deeper into subjects and report on them as if he were publishing research in a medical journal.

“When I came to medical school, yes, I wanted to be a doctor. But I also wanted to impact people.” Social media allows him to educate many more people than individual patients, the 29-year-old told this news organization.
 

Inspiring Minorities

Tabhata Paulet, 27, started her TikTok presence as a premed student in 2021. She aimed to provide free resources to help low-income, first-generation Latinx students like herself study for standardized exams.

“I always looked online for guidance and resources, and the medical influencers did not share a similar background. So, I shared my story and what I had to do as a first-generation and first person in my family to become a physician. I did not have access to the same resources as my peers,” said Ms. Paulet, who was born in Peru and came to New Jersey as a child.

Students who are Hispanic, Latinx, or of Spanish origin made up 6.8% of total medical school enrollment in 2023-2024, up slightly from 6.7% in 2022-2023, according to the Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC).

Ms. Paulet’s online presence grew when she began documenting her experiences as a first-year medical student, bridging the language barrier for Spanish-speaking patients so they could understand their diagnosis and treatment. She often posts about health disparity and barriers to care for underserved communities.

Most of her nearly 22,000 followers are Hispanic, said the now fourth-year student at Rutgers New Jersey Medical School in Newark, New Jersey. “I talk a lot about my interesting Spanish-speaking patients ... and how sometimes speaking their native language truly makes a difference in their care.”

She believes that she serves an important role in social media. “It can be very inspirational for those who come after you [in med school] to see someone from a similar culture and upbringing.”
 

Creating a Community

It was during a therapy session 4 years ago that Jeremy “JP” Scott decided to share Instagram posts about his experiences as a nontraditional medical student. The 37-year-old was studying at Ross University School of Medicine in Barbados and was feeling lonely as an international medical student training to be a doctor as a second career.

Before starting med school, Mr. Scott was an adjunct professor and lab supervisor at the University of Hartford Biology Department, West Hartford, Connecticut, and then a research assistant and lab manager at the Wistar Institute in Philadelphia.

Although he wanted to follow his mother’s path to becoming a doctor, it was more difficult than he envisioned, said the fourth-year student who completed clinical rotations in the United States and is now applying for residencies.

“I talked about how medical school is not what it appears to be ... There are a lot of challenges we are going through,” especially as people of color, he said.

Mr. Scott believes social media helps people feel included and less alone. He said many of his followers are med students and physicians.

His posts often focus on LGBTQIA+ pride and being a minority as a Black man in medicine.

“The pandemic spurred a lot of us. We had a racial reckoning in our country at the time. It inspired us to talk as Black creators and Black medical students.”

Black or African American medical students made up 8.5% of total med school enrollment in 2023-2024, a slight increase from 2022 to 2023, according to AAMC figures. Black men represented 7% of total enrollment in 2023-2024, while Black women represented 9.8%.

After only a handful of online posts in which Mr. Scott candidly discussed his mental health struggles and relationships, he attracted the attention of several medical apparel companies, including the popular FIGS scrubs. He’s now an ambassador for the company, which supports him and his content.

“My association with FIGS has helped attract a wider online audience, increasing my presence.” Today, he has 14,000 Instagram followers. “It opened up so many opportunities,” Mr. Scott said. One example is working with the national LGBTQIA+ community.

“The goal was never to be a social media influencer, to gain sponsorships or photo opportunities,” he said.

“My job, first, is as a medical student. Everything else is second. I am not trying to be a professional social media personality. I’m trying to be an actual physician.” He also tries to separate JP “social media” from Jeremy, the medical student.

“On Instagram, anyone can pull it up and see what you’re doing. The last thing I want is for them to think that I’m not serious about what I’m doing, that I’m not here to learn and become a doctor.”
 

Benefits and Drawbacks

Ms. Paulet said her social media following helped her connect with leaders in the Latinx medical community, including an obstetrics anesthesiologist, her intended specialty. “I don’t think I’d be able to do that without a social media platform.”

Her online activity also propelled her from regional to national leadership in the Latino Medical Student Association (LMSA). She now also runs their Instagram page, which has 14,000 followers.

Mr. Bervell believes social media is a great way to network. He’s connected with people he wouldn’t have met otherwise, including physicians. “I think it will help me get into a residency,” he said. “It allows people to know who you are ... They will be able to tell in a few videos the type of doctor I want to be.”

On the other hand, Mr. Bervell is aware of the negative impacts of social media on mental health. “You can get lost in social media.” For that reason, he often tries to disconnect. “I can go days without my phone.”

Posting on social media can be time-consuming, Mr. Bervell admitted. He said he spent about 2 hours a day researching, editing, and posting on TikTok when he first started building his following. Now, he spends about 2-3 hours a week creating videos. “I don’t post every day anymore. I don’t have the time.”

When she started building her TikTok presence, Ms. Paulet said she devoted 15 hours a week to the endeavor, but now she spends 10-12 hours a week posting online, including on LMSA’s Instagram page. “Whenever you are done with an exam or have a study break, this is something fun to do.” She also says you never know who you’re going to inspire when you put yourself out there.

“Talk about your journey, rotations, or your experience in your first or second year of medical school. Talk about milestones like board exams.”
 

Word to the Wise

Some students may be concerned that their posts might affect a potential residency program. But the medical students interviewed say they want to find programs that align with their values and accept them for who they are.

Mr. Scott said he’s not worried about someone not liking him because of who he is. “I am Black and openly gay. If it’s a problem, I don’t need to work with you or your institution.”

Mr. Bervell stressed that medical students should stay professional online. “I reach 5-10 million people a month, and I have to think: Would I want them to see this? You have to know at all times that someone is watching. I’m very careful about how I post. I script out every video.”

Mr. Scott agreed. He advises those interested in becoming medical influencers to know what they can’t post online. For example, to ensure safety and privacy, Mr. Scott doesn’t take photos in the hospital, show his medical badge, or post patient information. “You want to be respectful of your future medical profession,” he said.

“If it’s something my mother would be ashamed of, I don’t need to post about it.”
 

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A medical student’s life is an endless cycle of classes, exams, clinical rotations, and residency preparation. While students typically have little free time, some still manage to build a mega social media presence. On TikTok and Instagram, among other sites, they share medical school experiences and lessons learned in the classroom and advocate for causes such as increased diversity and gender rights in the medical field.

This news organization caught up with a few social media influencers with a large online following to learn how medical students can effectively use social media to build a professional brand and network. Most of the students interviewed said that their social media platforms offered an opportunity to educate others about significant medical developments, feel part of a community with a like-minded audience, and network with doctors who may lead them to a future residency or career path.

Many med students said that they built their large audiences by creating a platform for people of their ethnic background, nationality, race, gender, or simply what others weren’t already talking about. They said they saw a niche in social media that was missing or others hadn’t tackled in the same way.

When Joel Bervell began med school in 2020, he questioned some of the lessons he learned about how race is used in medical practice, which didn’t make sense to him. So, he began his own research. He had about 2000 followers on Instagram at the time.

Mr. Bervell read a new study about pulse oximeters and how they often produce misleading readings on patients with dark skin.

He wondered why he hadn’t learned this in medical school, so he posted it on TikTok. Within 24 hours, about 500,000 people viewed it. Most of the comments were from doctors, nurses, and physician assistants who said they weren’t aware of the disparity.

While his initial posts detailed his journey to medical school and a day-in-the-life of a medical student, he transitioned to posts primarily about race, health equity, and what he perceives as racial bias in medicine.

Now, the fourth-year Ghanaian-American student at the Elson S. Floyd College of Medicine at Washington State University Spokane has close to 1.2 million followers on Instagram and TikTok combined. He frequently visits the White House to advise on social media’s influence on healthcare and has appeared on the Kelly Clarkson Show, Good Morning America, CNN, and ABC, among others.

He said he also uses social media to translate complex medical information for a general audience, many of whom access health information online so they can manage their own healthcare. He sees his social media work as an extension of his medical education, allowing him to delve deeper into subjects and report on them as if he were publishing research in a medical journal.

“When I came to medical school, yes, I wanted to be a doctor. But I also wanted to impact people.” Social media allows him to educate many more people than individual patients, the 29-year-old told this news organization.
 

Inspiring Minorities

Tabhata Paulet, 27, started her TikTok presence as a premed student in 2021. She aimed to provide free resources to help low-income, first-generation Latinx students like herself study for standardized exams.

“I always looked online for guidance and resources, and the medical influencers did not share a similar background. So, I shared my story and what I had to do as a first-generation and first person in my family to become a physician. I did not have access to the same resources as my peers,” said Ms. Paulet, who was born in Peru and came to New Jersey as a child.

Students who are Hispanic, Latinx, or of Spanish origin made up 6.8% of total medical school enrollment in 2023-2024, up slightly from 6.7% in 2022-2023, according to the Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC).

Ms. Paulet’s online presence grew when she began documenting her experiences as a first-year medical student, bridging the language barrier for Spanish-speaking patients so they could understand their diagnosis and treatment. She often posts about health disparity and barriers to care for underserved communities.

Most of her nearly 22,000 followers are Hispanic, said the now fourth-year student at Rutgers New Jersey Medical School in Newark, New Jersey. “I talk a lot about my interesting Spanish-speaking patients ... and how sometimes speaking their native language truly makes a difference in their care.”

She believes that she serves an important role in social media. “It can be very inspirational for those who come after you [in med school] to see someone from a similar culture and upbringing.”
 

Creating a Community

It was during a therapy session 4 years ago that Jeremy “JP” Scott decided to share Instagram posts about his experiences as a nontraditional medical student. The 37-year-old was studying at Ross University School of Medicine in Barbados and was feeling lonely as an international medical student training to be a doctor as a second career.

Before starting med school, Mr. Scott was an adjunct professor and lab supervisor at the University of Hartford Biology Department, West Hartford, Connecticut, and then a research assistant and lab manager at the Wistar Institute in Philadelphia.

Although he wanted to follow his mother’s path to becoming a doctor, it was more difficult than he envisioned, said the fourth-year student who completed clinical rotations in the United States and is now applying for residencies.

“I talked about how medical school is not what it appears to be ... There are a lot of challenges we are going through,” especially as people of color, he said.

Mr. Scott believes social media helps people feel included and less alone. He said many of his followers are med students and physicians.

His posts often focus on LGBTQIA+ pride and being a minority as a Black man in medicine.

“The pandemic spurred a lot of us. We had a racial reckoning in our country at the time. It inspired us to talk as Black creators and Black medical students.”

Black or African American medical students made up 8.5% of total med school enrollment in 2023-2024, a slight increase from 2022 to 2023, according to AAMC figures. Black men represented 7% of total enrollment in 2023-2024, while Black women represented 9.8%.

After only a handful of online posts in which Mr. Scott candidly discussed his mental health struggles and relationships, he attracted the attention of several medical apparel companies, including the popular FIGS scrubs. He’s now an ambassador for the company, which supports him and his content.

“My association with FIGS has helped attract a wider online audience, increasing my presence.” Today, he has 14,000 Instagram followers. “It opened up so many opportunities,” Mr. Scott said. One example is working with the national LGBTQIA+ community.

“The goal was never to be a social media influencer, to gain sponsorships or photo opportunities,” he said.

“My job, first, is as a medical student. Everything else is second. I am not trying to be a professional social media personality. I’m trying to be an actual physician.” He also tries to separate JP “social media” from Jeremy, the medical student.

“On Instagram, anyone can pull it up and see what you’re doing. The last thing I want is for them to think that I’m not serious about what I’m doing, that I’m not here to learn and become a doctor.”
 

Benefits and Drawbacks

Ms. Paulet said her social media following helped her connect with leaders in the Latinx medical community, including an obstetrics anesthesiologist, her intended specialty. “I don’t think I’d be able to do that without a social media platform.”

Her online activity also propelled her from regional to national leadership in the Latino Medical Student Association (LMSA). She now also runs their Instagram page, which has 14,000 followers.

Mr. Bervell believes social media is a great way to network. He’s connected with people he wouldn’t have met otherwise, including physicians. “I think it will help me get into a residency,” he said. “It allows people to know who you are ... They will be able to tell in a few videos the type of doctor I want to be.”

On the other hand, Mr. Bervell is aware of the negative impacts of social media on mental health. “You can get lost in social media.” For that reason, he often tries to disconnect. “I can go days without my phone.”

Posting on social media can be time-consuming, Mr. Bervell admitted. He said he spent about 2 hours a day researching, editing, and posting on TikTok when he first started building his following. Now, he spends about 2-3 hours a week creating videos. “I don’t post every day anymore. I don’t have the time.”

When she started building her TikTok presence, Ms. Paulet said she devoted 15 hours a week to the endeavor, but now she spends 10-12 hours a week posting online, including on LMSA’s Instagram page. “Whenever you are done with an exam or have a study break, this is something fun to do.” She also says you never know who you’re going to inspire when you put yourself out there.

“Talk about your journey, rotations, or your experience in your first or second year of medical school. Talk about milestones like board exams.”
 

Word to the Wise

Some students may be concerned that their posts might affect a potential residency program. But the medical students interviewed say they want to find programs that align with their values and accept them for who they are.

Mr. Scott said he’s not worried about someone not liking him because of who he is. “I am Black and openly gay. If it’s a problem, I don’t need to work with you or your institution.”

Mr. Bervell stressed that medical students should stay professional online. “I reach 5-10 million people a month, and I have to think: Would I want them to see this? You have to know at all times that someone is watching. I’m very careful about how I post. I script out every video.”

Mr. Scott agreed. He advises those interested in becoming medical influencers to know what they can’t post online. For example, to ensure safety and privacy, Mr. Scott doesn’t take photos in the hospital, show his medical badge, or post patient information. “You want to be respectful of your future medical profession,” he said.

“If it’s something my mother would be ashamed of, I don’t need to post about it.”
 

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The Federal Trade Commission (FTC) voted Tuesday to ban noncompete agreements, possibly making it easier for doctors to switch employers without having to leave their communities and patients behind. But business groups have vowed to challenge the decision in court.

The proposed final rule passed on a 3-2 vote, with the dissenting commissioners disputing the FTC’s authority to broadly ban noncompetes.

Tensions around noncompetes have been building for years. In 2021, President Biden issued an executive order supporting measures to improve economic competition, in which he urged the FTC to consider its rulemaking authority to address noncompete clauses that unfairly limit workers’ mobility. In January 2023, per that directive, the agency proposed ending the restrictive covenants.

While the FTC estimates that the final rule will reduce healthcare costs by up to $194 billion over the next decade and increase worker earnings by $300 million annually, the ruling faces legal hurdles.

US Chamber of Commerce president and CEO Suzanne P. Clark said in a statement that the move is a “blatant power grab” that will undermine competitive business practices, adding that the Chamber will sue to block the measure.

The FTC received more than 26,000 comments on noncompetes during the public feedback period, with about 25,000 supporting the measure, said Benjamin Cady, JD, an FTC attorney.

Mr. Cady called the feedback “compelling,” citing instances of workers who were forced to commute long distances, uproot their families, or risk expensive litigation for wanting to pursue job opportunities.

For example, a comment from a physician working in Appalachia highlights the potential real-life implications of the agreements. “With hospital systems merging, providers with aggressive noncompetes must abandon the community that they serve if they [choose] to leave their employer. Healthcare providers feel trapped in their current employment situation, leading to significant burnout that can shorten their [career] longevity.”

Commissioner Alvaro Bedoya said physicians have had their lives upended by cumbersome noncompetes, often having to move out of state to practice. “A pandemic killed a million people in this country, and there are doctors who cannot work because of a noncompete,” he said.

It’s unclear whether physicians and others who work for nonprofit healthcare groups or hospitals will be covered by the new ban. FTC Commissioner Rebecca Slaughter acknowledged that the agency’s jurisdictional limitations mean that employees of “certain nonprofit organizations” may not benefit from the rule.

“We want to be transparent about the limitation and recognize there are workers, especially healthcare workers, who are bound by anticompetitive and unfair noncompete clauses, that our rule will struggle to reach,” she said. To cover nonprofit healthcare employees, Ms. Slaughter urged Congress to pass legislation banning noncompetes, such as the Workforce Mobility Act of 2021 and the Freedom to Compete Act of 2023.

The FTC final rule will take effect 120 days after it is published in the federal register, and new noncompete agreements will be banned as of this date. However, existing contracts for senior executives will remain in effect because these individuals are less likely to experience “acute harm” due to their ability to negotiate accordingly, said Mr. Cady.
 

States, AMA Take Aim at Noncompetes

Before the federal ban, several states had already passed legislation limiting the reach of noncompetes. According to a recent article in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 12 states prohibit noncompete clauses for physicians: Alabama, California, Colorado, Delaware, Massachusetts, Montana, New Hampshire, New Mexico, North Dakota, Oklahoma, Rhode Island, and South Dakota.

The remaining states allow noncompetes in some form, often excluding them for employees earning below a certain threshold. For example, in Oregon, noncompete agreements may apply to employees earning more than $113,241. Most states have provisions to adjust the threshold annually. The District of Columbia permits 2-year noncompetes for “medical specialists” earning over $250,000 annually.

Indiana employers can no longer enter into noncompete agreements with primary care providers. Other specialties may be subject to the clauses, except when the physician terminates the contract for cause or when an employer terminates the contract without cause.

Rachel Marcus, MD, a cardiologist in Washington, DC, found out how limiting her employment contract’s noncompete clause was when she wanted to leave a former position. Due to the restrictions, she told this news organization that she couldn’t work locally for a competitor for 2 years. The closest location she could seek employment without violating the agreement was Baltimore, approximately 40 miles away.

Dr. Marcus ultimately moved to another position within the same organization because of the company’s reputation for being “aggressive” in their enforcement actions.

Although the American Medical Association (AMA) does not support a total ban, its House of Delegates adopted policies last year to support the prohibition of noncompete contracts for physicians employed by for-profit or nonprofit hospitals, hospital systems, or staffing companies.
 

Challenges Await

The American Hospital Association, which opposed the proposed rule, called it “bad policy.” The decision “will likely be short-lived, with courts almost certain to stop it before it can do damage to hospitals’ ability to care for their patients and communities,” the association said in a statement.

To ease the transition to the new rule, the FTC also released a model language for employers to use when discussing the changes with their employees. “All employers need to do to comply with the rule is to stop enforcing existing noncompetes with workers other than senior executives and provide notice to such workers,” he said.

Dr. Marcus hopes the ban improves doctors’ lives. “Your employer is going to have to treat you better because they know that you can easily go across town to a place that has a higher salary, and your patient can go with you.”

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

The Federal Trade Commission (FTC) voted Tuesday to ban noncompete agreements, possibly making it easier for doctors to switch employers without having to leave their communities and patients behind. But business groups have vowed to challenge the decision in court.

The proposed final rule passed on a 3-2 vote, with the dissenting commissioners disputing the FTC’s authority to broadly ban noncompetes.

Tensions around noncompetes have been building for years. In 2021, President Biden issued an executive order supporting measures to improve economic competition, in which he urged the FTC to consider its rulemaking authority to address noncompete clauses that unfairly limit workers’ mobility. In January 2023, per that directive, the agency proposed ending the restrictive covenants.

While the FTC estimates that the final rule will reduce healthcare costs by up to $194 billion over the next decade and increase worker earnings by $300 million annually, the ruling faces legal hurdles.

US Chamber of Commerce president and CEO Suzanne P. Clark said in a statement that the move is a “blatant power grab” that will undermine competitive business practices, adding that the Chamber will sue to block the measure.

The FTC received more than 26,000 comments on noncompetes during the public feedback period, with about 25,000 supporting the measure, said Benjamin Cady, JD, an FTC attorney.

Mr. Cady called the feedback “compelling,” citing instances of workers who were forced to commute long distances, uproot their families, or risk expensive litigation for wanting to pursue job opportunities.

For example, a comment from a physician working in Appalachia highlights the potential real-life implications of the agreements. “With hospital systems merging, providers with aggressive noncompetes must abandon the community that they serve if they [choose] to leave their employer. Healthcare providers feel trapped in their current employment situation, leading to significant burnout that can shorten their [career] longevity.”

Commissioner Alvaro Bedoya said physicians have had their lives upended by cumbersome noncompetes, often having to move out of state to practice. “A pandemic killed a million people in this country, and there are doctors who cannot work because of a noncompete,” he said.

It’s unclear whether physicians and others who work for nonprofit healthcare groups or hospitals will be covered by the new ban. FTC Commissioner Rebecca Slaughter acknowledged that the agency’s jurisdictional limitations mean that employees of “certain nonprofit organizations” may not benefit from the rule.

“We want to be transparent about the limitation and recognize there are workers, especially healthcare workers, who are bound by anticompetitive and unfair noncompete clauses, that our rule will struggle to reach,” she said. To cover nonprofit healthcare employees, Ms. Slaughter urged Congress to pass legislation banning noncompetes, such as the Workforce Mobility Act of 2021 and the Freedom to Compete Act of 2023.

The FTC final rule will take effect 120 days after it is published in the federal register, and new noncompete agreements will be banned as of this date. However, existing contracts for senior executives will remain in effect because these individuals are less likely to experience “acute harm” due to their ability to negotiate accordingly, said Mr. Cady.
 

States, AMA Take Aim at Noncompetes

Before the federal ban, several states had already passed legislation limiting the reach of noncompetes. According to a recent article in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 12 states prohibit noncompete clauses for physicians: Alabama, California, Colorado, Delaware, Massachusetts, Montana, New Hampshire, New Mexico, North Dakota, Oklahoma, Rhode Island, and South Dakota.

The remaining states allow noncompetes in some form, often excluding them for employees earning below a certain threshold. For example, in Oregon, noncompete agreements may apply to employees earning more than $113,241. Most states have provisions to adjust the threshold annually. The District of Columbia permits 2-year noncompetes for “medical specialists” earning over $250,000 annually.

Indiana employers can no longer enter into noncompete agreements with primary care providers. Other specialties may be subject to the clauses, except when the physician terminates the contract for cause or when an employer terminates the contract without cause.

Rachel Marcus, MD, a cardiologist in Washington, DC, found out how limiting her employment contract’s noncompete clause was when she wanted to leave a former position. Due to the restrictions, she told this news organization that she couldn’t work locally for a competitor for 2 years. The closest location she could seek employment without violating the agreement was Baltimore, approximately 40 miles away.

Dr. Marcus ultimately moved to another position within the same organization because of the company’s reputation for being “aggressive” in their enforcement actions.

Although the American Medical Association (AMA) does not support a total ban, its House of Delegates adopted policies last year to support the prohibition of noncompete contracts for physicians employed by for-profit or nonprofit hospitals, hospital systems, or staffing companies.
 

Challenges Await

The American Hospital Association, which opposed the proposed rule, called it “bad policy.” The decision “will likely be short-lived, with courts almost certain to stop it before it can do damage to hospitals’ ability to care for their patients and communities,” the association said in a statement.

To ease the transition to the new rule, the FTC also released a model language for employers to use when discussing the changes with their employees. “All employers need to do to comply with the rule is to stop enforcing existing noncompetes with workers other than senior executives and provide notice to such workers,” he said.

Dr. Marcus hopes the ban improves doctors’ lives. “Your employer is going to have to treat you better because they know that you can easily go across town to a place that has a higher salary, and your patient can go with you.”

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

The Federal Trade Commission (FTC) voted Tuesday to ban noncompete agreements, possibly making it easier for doctors to switch employers without having to leave their communities and patients behind. But business groups have vowed to challenge the decision in court.

The proposed final rule passed on a 3-2 vote, with the dissenting commissioners disputing the FTC’s authority to broadly ban noncompetes.

Tensions around noncompetes have been building for years. In 2021, President Biden issued an executive order supporting measures to improve economic competition, in which he urged the FTC to consider its rulemaking authority to address noncompete clauses that unfairly limit workers’ mobility. In January 2023, per that directive, the agency proposed ending the restrictive covenants.

While the FTC estimates that the final rule will reduce healthcare costs by up to $194 billion over the next decade and increase worker earnings by $300 million annually, the ruling faces legal hurdles.

US Chamber of Commerce president and CEO Suzanne P. Clark said in a statement that the move is a “blatant power grab” that will undermine competitive business practices, adding that the Chamber will sue to block the measure.

The FTC received more than 26,000 comments on noncompetes during the public feedback period, with about 25,000 supporting the measure, said Benjamin Cady, JD, an FTC attorney.

Mr. Cady called the feedback “compelling,” citing instances of workers who were forced to commute long distances, uproot their families, or risk expensive litigation for wanting to pursue job opportunities.

For example, a comment from a physician working in Appalachia highlights the potential real-life implications of the agreements. “With hospital systems merging, providers with aggressive noncompetes must abandon the community that they serve if they [choose] to leave their employer. Healthcare providers feel trapped in their current employment situation, leading to significant burnout that can shorten their [career] longevity.”

Commissioner Alvaro Bedoya said physicians have had their lives upended by cumbersome noncompetes, often having to move out of state to practice. “A pandemic killed a million people in this country, and there are doctors who cannot work because of a noncompete,” he said.

It’s unclear whether physicians and others who work for nonprofit healthcare groups or hospitals will be covered by the new ban. FTC Commissioner Rebecca Slaughter acknowledged that the agency’s jurisdictional limitations mean that employees of “certain nonprofit organizations” may not benefit from the rule.

“We want to be transparent about the limitation and recognize there are workers, especially healthcare workers, who are bound by anticompetitive and unfair noncompete clauses, that our rule will struggle to reach,” she said. To cover nonprofit healthcare employees, Ms. Slaughter urged Congress to pass legislation banning noncompetes, such as the Workforce Mobility Act of 2021 and the Freedom to Compete Act of 2023.

The FTC final rule will take effect 120 days after it is published in the federal register, and new noncompete agreements will be banned as of this date. However, existing contracts for senior executives will remain in effect because these individuals are less likely to experience “acute harm” due to their ability to negotiate accordingly, said Mr. Cady.
 

States, AMA Take Aim at Noncompetes

Before the federal ban, several states had already passed legislation limiting the reach of noncompetes. According to a recent article in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 12 states prohibit noncompete clauses for physicians: Alabama, California, Colorado, Delaware, Massachusetts, Montana, New Hampshire, New Mexico, North Dakota, Oklahoma, Rhode Island, and South Dakota.

The remaining states allow noncompetes in some form, often excluding them for employees earning below a certain threshold. For example, in Oregon, noncompete agreements may apply to employees earning more than $113,241. Most states have provisions to adjust the threshold annually. The District of Columbia permits 2-year noncompetes for “medical specialists” earning over $250,000 annually.

Indiana employers can no longer enter into noncompete agreements with primary care providers. Other specialties may be subject to the clauses, except when the physician terminates the contract for cause or when an employer terminates the contract without cause.

Rachel Marcus, MD, a cardiologist in Washington, DC, found out how limiting her employment contract’s noncompete clause was when she wanted to leave a former position. Due to the restrictions, she told this news organization that she couldn’t work locally for a competitor for 2 years. The closest location she could seek employment without violating the agreement was Baltimore, approximately 40 miles away.

Dr. Marcus ultimately moved to another position within the same organization because of the company’s reputation for being “aggressive” in their enforcement actions.

Although the American Medical Association (AMA) does not support a total ban, its House of Delegates adopted policies last year to support the prohibition of noncompete contracts for physicians employed by for-profit or nonprofit hospitals, hospital systems, or staffing companies.
 

Challenges Await

The American Hospital Association, which opposed the proposed rule, called it “bad policy.” The decision “will likely be short-lived, with courts almost certain to stop it before it can do damage to hospitals’ ability to care for their patients and communities,” the association said in a statement.

To ease the transition to the new rule, the FTC also released a model language for employers to use when discussing the changes with their employees. “All employers need to do to comply with the rule is to stop enforcing existing noncompetes with workers other than senior executives and provide notice to such workers,” he said.

Dr. Marcus hopes the ban improves doctors’ lives. “Your employer is going to have to treat you better because they know that you can easily go across town to a place that has a higher salary, and your patient can go with you.”

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Pregnant physicians may receive more workplace accommodations and protection against discrimination thanks to an updated rule from the US Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC). The guidelines could prevent women from losing critical career momentum. 

The Pregnant Workers Fairness Act (PWFA) aims to help workers balance professional demands with healthy pregnancies. It requires employers to provide reasonable accommodations for a “worker’s known limitations,” including physical or mental conditions associated with “pregnancy, childbirth, or related medical conditions.”

Reasonable accommodations vary but may involve time off to attend healthcare appointments or recover from childbirth, extra breaks during a shift, shorter work hours, or the ability to sit instead of stand. Private and public sector employers, including state and local governments, federal agencies, and employment agencies, must abide by the new guidelines unless they can provide evidence that doing so will cause undue hardship. 

Female doctors have historically encountered significant barriers to family planning. Years of training cause them to delay having children, often leading to higher rates of infertility, miscarriage, and pregnancy complications than in the general population. 

Some specialties, like surgeons, are particularly at risk, with 42% reporting at least one pregnancy loss. Most surgeons work their regular schedules until delivery despite desiring workload reductions, commonly citing unsupportive workplaces as a reason for not seeking accommodations. 

Trauma surgeon Qaali Hussein, MD, became pregnant with her first child during her intern year in 2008. She told this news organization that her residency program didn’t even have a maternity policy at the time, and her male supervisor was certain that motherhood would end her surgical career. 

She shared how “women usually waited until the end of their training to get pregnant. No one had ever gotten pregnant during the program and returned from maternity leave. I was the first to do so, so there wasn’t a policy or any program support to say, ‘What can we do to help?’ ”

Dr. Hussein used her vacation and sick time, returning to work 4 weeks after delivery. She had five more children, including twins her chief year and another baby during fellowship training in 2014. 

Each subsequent pregnancy was met with the same response from program leadership, she recalled. “They’d say, ‘This is it. You may have been able to do the first and second child, but this one will be impossible.’ ”

After the PWFA regulations first became enforceable in June, the EEOC accepted public feedback. The guidelines received nearly 100,000 comments, spurred mainly by the inclusion of abortion care as a qualifying condition for which an employee could receive accommodations. About 54,000 comments called for abortion to be excluded from the final rule, and 40,000 supported keeping the clause. 

The EEOC issued the final rule on April 15. It includes abortion care. However, the updated rule “does not require any employee to have — or not to have — an abortion, does not require taxpayers to pay for any abortions, and does not compel health care providers to provide any abortions,” the unpublished version of the final rule said. It is scheduled to take effect 60 days after its publication in the Federal Register on April 19.
 

Increasing Support for Doctor-Moms

The PWFA supplements other EEOC protections, such as pregnancy discrimination under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and access to reasonable accommodations under the Americans with Disabilities Act. In addition, it builds upon Department of Labor regulations, like the PUMP Act for breastfeeding employees and the Family and Medical Leave Act, which provides 12 weeks of unpaid, job-protected leave for the arrival of a child or certain medical conditions.

FMLA applies only to employees who have worked full-time for at least 12 months for an employer with 50 or more employees. Meanwhile, the unpaid, job-protected leave under the PWFA has no waiting period, lowers the required number of employees to 15, and permits accommodations for up to 40 weeks. 

Employers are encouraged to honor “common and simple” requests, like using a closer parking space or pumping or nursing at work, without requiring a doctor’s note, the rule said. 

Efforts to improve family leave policies for physicians and residents have been gaining traction. In 2021, the American Board of Medical Specialties began requiring its member boards with training programs lasting 2 or more years to allow at least 6 weeks off for parental, caregiver, and medical leave. This time can be taken without exhausting vacation or sick leave or requiring an extension in training. Over half of the 24 member boards permit leave beyond 6 weeks, including the American Boards of Allergy and Immunology, Emergency Medicine, Family Medicine, Radiology, and Surgery. 

Estefania Oliveros, MD, MSc, cardiologist and assistant professor at the Lewis Katz School of Medicine at Temple University, Philadelphia, told this news organization that the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education also requires that residents and fellows receive 6 weeks of paid leave. 

“We add to that vacation time, so it gives them at least 8 weeks,” she said. The school has created spaces for nursing mothers — something neither she nor Dr. Hussein had access to when breastfeeding — and encourages the attendings to be proactive in excusing pregnant fellows for appointments. 

This differs significantly from her fellowship training experience 6 years ago at another institution, where she worked without accommodations until the day before her cesarean delivery. Dr. Oliveros had to use all her vacation time for recovery, returning to the program after 4 weeks instead of the recommended 6. 

“And that’s the story you hear all the time. Not because people are ill-intended; I just don’t think the system is designed to accommodate women, so we lose a lot of talent that way,” said Dr. Oliveros, whose 2019 survey in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology called for more support and protections for pregnant doctors. 

Both doctors believe the PWFA will be beneficial but only if leadership in the field takes up the cause. 

“The cultures of these institutions determine whether women feel safe or even confident enough to have children in medical school or residency,” said Dr. Hussein. 
 

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Pregnant physicians may receive more workplace accommodations and protection against discrimination thanks to an updated rule from the US Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC). The guidelines could prevent women from losing critical career momentum. 

The Pregnant Workers Fairness Act (PWFA) aims to help workers balance professional demands with healthy pregnancies. It requires employers to provide reasonable accommodations for a “worker’s known limitations,” including physical or mental conditions associated with “pregnancy, childbirth, or related medical conditions.”

Reasonable accommodations vary but may involve time off to attend healthcare appointments or recover from childbirth, extra breaks during a shift, shorter work hours, or the ability to sit instead of stand. Private and public sector employers, including state and local governments, federal agencies, and employment agencies, must abide by the new guidelines unless they can provide evidence that doing so will cause undue hardship. 

Female doctors have historically encountered significant barriers to family planning. Years of training cause them to delay having children, often leading to higher rates of infertility, miscarriage, and pregnancy complications than in the general population. 

Some specialties, like surgeons, are particularly at risk, with 42% reporting at least one pregnancy loss. Most surgeons work their regular schedules until delivery despite desiring workload reductions, commonly citing unsupportive workplaces as a reason for not seeking accommodations. 

Trauma surgeon Qaali Hussein, MD, became pregnant with her first child during her intern year in 2008. She told this news organization that her residency program didn’t even have a maternity policy at the time, and her male supervisor was certain that motherhood would end her surgical career. 

She shared how “women usually waited until the end of their training to get pregnant. No one had ever gotten pregnant during the program and returned from maternity leave. I was the first to do so, so there wasn’t a policy or any program support to say, ‘What can we do to help?’ ”

Dr. Hussein used her vacation and sick time, returning to work 4 weeks after delivery. She had five more children, including twins her chief year and another baby during fellowship training in 2014. 

Each subsequent pregnancy was met with the same response from program leadership, she recalled. “They’d say, ‘This is it. You may have been able to do the first and second child, but this one will be impossible.’ ”

After the PWFA regulations first became enforceable in June, the EEOC accepted public feedback. The guidelines received nearly 100,000 comments, spurred mainly by the inclusion of abortion care as a qualifying condition for which an employee could receive accommodations. About 54,000 comments called for abortion to be excluded from the final rule, and 40,000 supported keeping the clause. 

The EEOC issued the final rule on April 15. It includes abortion care. However, the updated rule “does not require any employee to have — or not to have — an abortion, does not require taxpayers to pay for any abortions, and does not compel health care providers to provide any abortions,” the unpublished version of the final rule said. It is scheduled to take effect 60 days after its publication in the Federal Register on April 19.
 

Increasing Support for Doctor-Moms

The PWFA supplements other EEOC protections, such as pregnancy discrimination under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and access to reasonable accommodations under the Americans with Disabilities Act. In addition, it builds upon Department of Labor regulations, like the PUMP Act for breastfeeding employees and the Family and Medical Leave Act, which provides 12 weeks of unpaid, job-protected leave for the arrival of a child or certain medical conditions.

FMLA applies only to employees who have worked full-time for at least 12 months for an employer with 50 or more employees. Meanwhile, the unpaid, job-protected leave under the PWFA has no waiting period, lowers the required number of employees to 15, and permits accommodations for up to 40 weeks. 

Employers are encouraged to honor “common and simple” requests, like using a closer parking space or pumping or nursing at work, without requiring a doctor’s note, the rule said. 

Efforts to improve family leave policies for physicians and residents have been gaining traction. In 2021, the American Board of Medical Specialties began requiring its member boards with training programs lasting 2 or more years to allow at least 6 weeks off for parental, caregiver, and medical leave. This time can be taken without exhausting vacation or sick leave or requiring an extension in training. Over half of the 24 member boards permit leave beyond 6 weeks, including the American Boards of Allergy and Immunology, Emergency Medicine, Family Medicine, Radiology, and Surgery. 

Estefania Oliveros, MD, MSc, cardiologist and assistant professor at the Lewis Katz School of Medicine at Temple University, Philadelphia, told this news organization that the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education also requires that residents and fellows receive 6 weeks of paid leave. 

“We add to that vacation time, so it gives them at least 8 weeks,” she said. The school has created spaces for nursing mothers — something neither she nor Dr. Hussein had access to when breastfeeding — and encourages the attendings to be proactive in excusing pregnant fellows for appointments. 

This differs significantly from her fellowship training experience 6 years ago at another institution, where she worked without accommodations until the day before her cesarean delivery. Dr. Oliveros had to use all her vacation time for recovery, returning to the program after 4 weeks instead of the recommended 6. 

“And that’s the story you hear all the time. Not because people are ill-intended; I just don’t think the system is designed to accommodate women, so we lose a lot of talent that way,” said Dr. Oliveros, whose 2019 survey in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology called for more support and protections for pregnant doctors. 

Both doctors believe the PWFA will be beneficial but only if leadership in the field takes up the cause. 

“The cultures of these institutions determine whether women feel safe or even confident enough to have children in medical school or residency,” said Dr. Hussein. 
 

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Pregnant physicians may receive more workplace accommodations and protection against discrimination thanks to an updated rule from the US Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC). The guidelines could prevent women from losing critical career momentum. 

The Pregnant Workers Fairness Act (PWFA) aims to help workers balance professional demands with healthy pregnancies. It requires employers to provide reasonable accommodations for a “worker’s known limitations,” including physical or mental conditions associated with “pregnancy, childbirth, or related medical conditions.”

Reasonable accommodations vary but may involve time off to attend healthcare appointments or recover from childbirth, extra breaks during a shift, shorter work hours, or the ability to sit instead of stand. Private and public sector employers, including state and local governments, federal agencies, and employment agencies, must abide by the new guidelines unless they can provide evidence that doing so will cause undue hardship. 

Female doctors have historically encountered significant barriers to family planning. Years of training cause them to delay having children, often leading to higher rates of infertility, miscarriage, and pregnancy complications than in the general population. 

Some specialties, like surgeons, are particularly at risk, with 42% reporting at least one pregnancy loss. Most surgeons work their regular schedules until delivery despite desiring workload reductions, commonly citing unsupportive workplaces as a reason for not seeking accommodations. 

Trauma surgeon Qaali Hussein, MD, became pregnant with her first child during her intern year in 2008. She told this news organization that her residency program didn’t even have a maternity policy at the time, and her male supervisor was certain that motherhood would end her surgical career. 

She shared how “women usually waited until the end of their training to get pregnant. No one had ever gotten pregnant during the program and returned from maternity leave. I was the first to do so, so there wasn’t a policy or any program support to say, ‘What can we do to help?’ ”

Dr. Hussein used her vacation and sick time, returning to work 4 weeks after delivery. She had five more children, including twins her chief year and another baby during fellowship training in 2014. 

Each subsequent pregnancy was met with the same response from program leadership, she recalled. “They’d say, ‘This is it. You may have been able to do the first and second child, but this one will be impossible.’ ”

After the PWFA regulations first became enforceable in June, the EEOC accepted public feedback. The guidelines received nearly 100,000 comments, spurred mainly by the inclusion of abortion care as a qualifying condition for which an employee could receive accommodations. About 54,000 comments called for abortion to be excluded from the final rule, and 40,000 supported keeping the clause. 

The EEOC issued the final rule on April 15. It includes abortion care. However, the updated rule “does not require any employee to have — or not to have — an abortion, does not require taxpayers to pay for any abortions, and does not compel health care providers to provide any abortions,” the unpublished version of the final rule said. It is scheduled to take effect 60 days after its publication in the Federal Register on April 19.
 

Increasing Support for Doctor-Moms

The PWFA supplements other EEOC protections, such as pregnancy discrimination under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and access to reasonable accommodations under the Americans with Disabilities Act. In addition, it builds upon Department of Labor regulations, like the PUMP Act for breastfeeding employees and the Family and Medical Leave Act, which provides 12 weeks of unpaid, job-protected leave for the arrival of a child or certain medical conditions.

FMLA applies only to employees who have worked full-time for at least 12 months for an employer with 50 or more employees. Meanwhile, the unpaid, job-protected leave under the PWFA has no waiting period, lowers the required number of employees to 15, and permits accommodations for up to 40 weeks. 

Employers are encouraged to honor “common and simple” requests, like using a closer parking space or pumping or nursing at work, without requiring a doctor’s note, the rule said. 

Efforts to improve family leave policies for physicians and residents have been gaining traction. In 2021, the American Board of Medical Specialties began requiring its member boards with training programs lasting 2 or more years to allow at least 6 weeks off for parental, caregiver, and medical leave. This time can be taken without exhausting vacation or sick leave or requiring an extension in training. Over half of the 24 member boards permit leave beyond 6 weeks, including the American Boards of Allergy and Immunology, Emergency Medicine, Family Medicine, Radiology, and Surgery. 

Estefania Oliveros, MD, MSc, cardiologist and assistant professor at the Lewis Katz School of Medicine at Temple University, Philadelphia, told this news organization that the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education also requires that residents and fellows receive 6 weeks of paid leave. 

“We add to that vacation time, so it gives them at least 8 weeks,” she said. The school has created spaces for nursing mothers — something neither she nor Dr. Hussein had access to when breastfeeding — and encourages the attendings to be proactive in excusing pregnant fellows for appointments. 

This differs significantly from her fellowship training experience 6 years ago at another institution, where she worked without accommodations until the day before her cesarean delivery. Dr. Oliveros had to use all her vacation time for recovery, returning to the program after 4 weeks instead of the recommended 6. 

“And that’s the story you hear all the time. Not because people are ill-intended; I just don’t think the system is designed to accommodate women, so we lose a lot of talent that way,” said Dr. Oliveros, whose 2019 survey in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology called for more support and protections for pregnant doctors. 

Both doctors believe the PWFA will be beneficial but only if leadership in the field takes up the cause. 

“The cultures of these institutions determine whether women feel safe or even confident enough to have children in medical school or residency,” said Dr. Hussein. 
 

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

The second-floor operating rooms at Lehigh Valley Hospital in Allentown, Pennsylvania, are numbered sequentially — except when you get to what should be operation room (OR) 13. It’s OR M. The M doesn’t stand for Maternity or any other specialty. Rather in this high-tech, state-of-the art healthcare center, it’s there to ward off bad juju and evil spirits.

“Just as taller buildings usually don’t have a 13th floor or hotels don’t have a room 13, it revolves around the common superstition of the unlucky nature of number 13,” said a hospital spokesperson.

During the pandemic, the public was told repeatedly that modern medicine is science-based. But when I started talking to surgeons and other physicians for this article, I uncovered something decidedly unscientific.

In ORs and emergency rooms (ERs), small-town doctor’s offices, and mega hospitals, there’s a measure of dread before full moons and Friday the 13th, and no one dares utter the Q word (as in, “It sure is quiet today.”) That would risk bringing the wrath of the medical gods, and you’d earn the reputation of being a jinx or “black cloud.” Likewise, the songs “Stairway to Heaven” or “Another One Bites the Dust” will never be heard in any waiting room, elevator, or OR.

Indeed, when it comes to superstitions and rituals in medicine, it seems everyone has a story or a belief. …
 

A 2-Hour Ritual

Carmen Fong, MD, a colorectal surgeon in New York City, had a presurgical ritual that took her nearly 2 hours to complete. “I’d wake up at the same time every day, pack two hard-boiled eggs and a thermos of coffee in my small leather bag, walk to work via the same route, and swipe into the preop area while waving hi to the front desk,” she recounted. “I’d talk to the patient, sign the consent with the same ballpoint pen, go upstairs to my office, change into my scrubs [same cap and Danskos], then turn on my computer, and take a sip of coffee before heading back down to the OR. I’d always remove my badge and place it near the nurses’ workstation, then put on the patient’s SCDs [sequential compression devices] myself. I’d hold the oxygen mask while telling the patient, ‘See you later.’ Never ‘It will be okay’ or ‘Have a good sleep.’ Always ‘See you later.’ ”

Dr. Fong did this for 5 years prior to more than a thousand surgeries. She did it because it made her feel calm and in control, which translated to more successful operations. “It never failed me.”
 

Wonder Woman Clogs

Anureet Bajaj, MD, a plastic surgeon in Oklahoma City, wore Wonder Woman clogs in the OR for years because “they made me feel stronger, and my surgeries went better.” She’s also very specific about her OR playlist; “it must be ‘80s music.” And for a time, she wore a friendship bracelet that one of her employees made to commemorate getting through a particularly hard day. “If I forgot it, my heart sank, and my anxiety rose,” she said. “Wearing it gave me security and confidence that the day would go well.”

A Moment of Silence

Juliet Emamaullee, MD, PhD, is a liver and kidney transplant surgeon at Keck Hospital and Children’s Hospital Los Angeles. Because of the complexity of her operations, she must know every aspect of her patients’ medical history. This leads to a level of intimacy that most people never have with their doctors. “Transplant surgeons are playing god in many ways,” she said. “During procurement, after we prep and drape the donor and right before I make the incision, everyone in the OR has a moment of silence to acknowledge the donation. If the organ has been transported, then I’ll say a prayer to myself that I do good work with this generous gift of life.”

Magical Thinking

Before we go any further, I should clarify that there’s a difference between rituals and superstitions like the ones just shared and routines and practices such as handwashing or doublechecking that it’s the right hip and not the left. All pilots have a preflight checklist that’s necessary for safety, but some might also make the sign of the cross.

Lester Gottesman, MD, has been a surgeon at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City for nearly 50 years. He believes rituals and superstitions are more prevalent in medicine than in any other profession, despite there being no definitive research confirming their effectiveness.

In fact, it’s the opposite.

One of the few studies to examine superstitions among physicians was published in the Annals of Surgery in 2021. Researchers analyzed the operational records of 27,914 consecutive patients who underwent general, visceral, or vascular surgery. They found no association of moon phases, zodiac signs, or Friday the 13th with poor outcomes. Having acute coronary syndrome on Friday the 13th also did not influence the 13-year mortality rate compared to other dates in the year. And although 70% of physicians believe that some colleagues are “black clouds,” an analysis of 96 physicians and 6149 admissions found no such pattern.

Granted, this is just one analysis, but the results aren’t surprising. No one really believes in this stuff. So, why does it persist?

Dr. Gottesman cited an episode from the popular medical TV show Grey’s Anatomy, in which chief surgeon Meredith Grey puts it this way: “Superstition lies in the space between what we can control and what we can’t. …We rely on superstitions because we are smart enough to know we don’t have all the answers and that life works in mysterious ways. Don’t diss the juju from wherever it comes.”

“Superstition and science both start at the same place — to explain an unexplainable event,” said Dr. Gottesman, who always checks his suture lines at the end of a surgery in the order in which he did them. “If science provides a coherent answer, so be it. If not, the human’s need for order will assign causality to otherwise inanimate objects, noncausal events, or divine influence.”

In other words, the more unknowns and trepidation, the greater the tendency toward what Dr. Gottesman called “magical thinking.” And when you consider healing’s long history, you realize that ritual and superstition defined medicine for centuries. Gottesman pointed out that it wasn’t until Hippocrates separated religion and superstition from disease around 430 BC that modern medicine was born. But because doctors still don’t know everything, an element of magic endures.

The question is, in this high-tech age, do these stubborn beliefs still have a place? Do they help or hinder doctors, and, most important, do they have any effect on patient outcomes?
 

Five Benefits

To reiterate, there are no studies showing that Wonder Woman clogs convey surgical superpowers or that eating two hard-boiled eggs boosts OR performance. But anecdotally, many doctors admit to experiencing noticeable perks from their quirks. Let’s start with the supposed benefits:

• Less stress: A quarter of US clinicians are considering switching careers, primarily due to burnout, according to a 2022 Bain survey. “The fact that [rituals and superstitions] are so prevalent in such a high-stress field can’t be coincidence,” said Dr. Fong. “Offloading some of the responsibility to whatever gods there may be is a way of taming our anxieties so we can function better.”
• Hyperfocus: Dr. Emamaullee played volleyball in high school and college. She suggested that her presurgical routine isn’t all that different from her warmup before a championship match. It’s habitual behavior that helps induce a state of heightened concentration, confidence, and immersion. Athletes call it being “in the zone” or in a “state of flow,” and Dr. Emamaullee said she experiences the same thing in the OR.
• More control: Remember those horrific images of patients with COVID-19 overwhelming ERs in Brooklyn and Queens during the pandemic? Dr. Fong was in the middle of that. “In crisis situations where there are more unknowns, rituals and superstitions become even more important,” she said. “I may not be able to control what’s happening, but I can control myself. Rituals help restore some normalcy and organization, and they give me a sense of calm.”
• Better performance: A series of general-population experiments published in the journal Psychological Science in 2010 concluded that “good-luck–related superstitions” boosted self-confidence in mastering upcoming tasks and improved motor dexterity, memory, and overall performance.
• Placebo effect: This phenomenon is well-established in medicine. Give someone a special pill or treatment, and a significant portion will claim benefit. “Placebo is magical thinking,” said Dr. Gottesman. “It has identifiable and quantifiable effects on human disease.” And perhaps on medical practitioners, too. If a doctor believes her friendship bracelet has special powers and helps her be a better physician, then it just might.

Four Drawbacks

• Compulsive behavior: When superstitious beliefs or repetitive behaviors begin causing personal distress, interfering with daily duties, or negatively affecting patient outcomes, then there’s a problem. There’s a story on Quora about a neurosurgeon who always ate two Hostess Ho Hos chocolate cakes before operations. When he forgot to do so one day, he supposedly left his patient on the table and ran off to eat them. Even if it’s urban legend, it’s a useful illustration of quirk disrupting work.
• Less flexibility: Every human body and every surgery is different. “When ritualistic behaviors or habits become so rigid that you lose the ability to adapt, then that becomes dangerous for the patient,” said Dr. Fong. “The art of medicine, not unlike jazz, often comes from the improvisation.”
• Self-fulfilling: Just as rituals and superstitions can empower and provide a sense of control, they can quickly turn on physicians who forget a part of their routine or leave their talisman on the bureau. Instead of confidence, they supply doubt. The karma becomes kryptonite.
• Avoiding responsibility: After years of friendship bracelets and Wonder Woman clogs, Dr. Bajaj is making a deliberate effort to excise magical thinking from her practice. “It can hold you back if you’re not careful,” she said. “If you start using it as a crutch when something goes wrong — like ‘Oh, I wasn’t wearing my clogs today and that’s why my flap failed’ — then you’re not doing your due diligence and figuring out what really happened.” Rather than placing the responsibility for her day going well on superstition, she’s trying to own it herself by living with more intent.

The Diagnosis

Most of the medical experts I spoke with didn’t think there was anything wrong with rituals or superstitions as long as they didn’t become compulsive or a convenient repository of blame.

“Rituals and superstitions are an acknowledgment that forces external to ourselves exist,” concluded Dr. Fong. “They’re like tiny offerings to whatever gods are out there to please be on our side. And we keep doing them because there’s a reward — better patient outcomes, which is all we want to achieve in the end. I say embrace them.”

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The second-floor operating rooms at Lehigh Valley Hospital in Allentown, Pennsylvania, are numbered sequentially — except when you get to what should be operation room (OR) 13. It’s OR M. The M doesn’t stand for Maternity or any other specialty. Rather in this high-tech, state-of-the art healthcare center, it’s there to ward off bad juju and evil spirits.

“Just as taller buildings usually don’t have a 13th floor or hotels don’t have a room 13, it revolves around the common superstition of the unlucky nature of number 13,” said a hospital spokesperson.

During the pandemic, the public was told repeatedly that modern medicine is science-based. But when I started talking to surgeons and other physicians for this article, I uncovered something decidedly unscientific.

In ORs and emergency rooms (ERs), small-town doctor’s offices, and mega hospitals, there’s a measure of dread before full moons and Friday the 13th, and no one dares utter the Q word (as in, “It sure is quiet today.”) That would risk bringing the wrath of the medical gods, and you’d earn the reputation of being a jinx or “black cloud.” Likewise, the songs “Stairway to Heaven” or “Another One Bites the Dust” will never be heard in any waiting room, elevator, or OR.

Indeed, when it comes to superstitions and rituals in medicine, it seems everyone has a story or a belief. …
 

A 2-Hour Ritual

Carmen Fong, MD, a colorectal surgeon in New York City, had a presurgical ritual that took her nearly 2 hours to complete. “I’d wake up at the same time every day, pack two hard-boiled eggs and a thermos of coffee in my small leather bag, walk to work via the same route, and swipe into the preop area while waving hi to the front desk,” she recounted. “I’d talk to the patient, sign the consent with the same ballpoint pen, go upstairs to my office, change into my scrubs [same cap and Danskos], then turn on my computer, and take a sip of coffee before heading back down to the OR. I’d always remove my badge and place it near the nurses’ workstation, then put on the patient’s SCDs [sequential compression devices] myself. I’d hold the oxygen mask while telling the patient, ‘See you later.’ Never ‘It will be okay’ or ‘Have a good sleep.’ Always ‘See you later.’ ”

Dr. Fong did this for 5 years prior to more than a thousand surgeries. She did it because it made her feel calm and in control, which translated to more successful operations. “It never failed me.”
 

Wonder Woman Clogs

Anureet Bajaj, MD, a plastic surgeon in Oklahoma City, wore Wonder Woman clogs in the OR for years because “they made me feel stronger, and my surgeries went better.” She’s also very specific about her OR playlist; “it must be ‘80s music.” And for a time, she wore a friendship bracelet that one of her employees made to commemorate getting through a particularly hard day. “If I forgot it, my heart sank, and my anxiety rose,” she said. “Wearing it gave me security and confidence that the day would go well.”

A Moment of Silence

Juliet Emamaullee, MD, PhD, is a liver and kidney transplant surgeon at Keck Hospital and Children’s Hospital Los Angeles. Because of the complexity of her operations, she must know every aspect of her patients’ medical history. This leads to a level of intimacy that most people never have with their doctors. “Transplant surgeons are playing god in many ways,” she said. “During procurement, after we prep and drape the donor and right before I make the incision, everyone in the OR has a moment of silence to acknowledge the donation. If the organ has been transported, then I’ll say a prayer to myself that I do good work with this generous gift of life.”

Magical Thinking

Before we go any further, I should clarify that there’s a difference between rituals and superstitions like the ones just shared and routines and practices such as handwashing or doublechecking that it’s the right hip and not the left. All pilots have a preflight checklist that’s necessary for safety, but some might also make the sign of the cross.

Lester Gottesman, MD, has been a surgeon at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City for nearly 50 years. He believes rituals and superstitions are more prevalent in medicine than in any other profession, despite there being no definitive research confirming their effectiveness.

In fact, it’s the opposite.

One of the few studies to examine superstitions among physicians was published in the Annals of Surgery in 2021. Researchers analyzed the operational records of 27,914 consecutive patients who underwent general, visceral, or vascular surgery. They found no association of moon phases, zodiac signs, or Friday the 13th with poor outcomes. Having acute coronary syndrome on Friday the 13th also did not influence the 13-year mortality rate compared to other dates in the year. And although 70% of physicians believe that some colleagues are “black clouds,” an analysis of 96 physicians and 6149 admissions found no such pattern.

Granted, this is just one analysis, but the results aren’t surprising. No one really believes in this stuff. So, why does it persist?

Dr. Gottesman cited an episode from the popular medical TV show Grey’s Anatomy, in which chief surgeon Meredith Grey puts it this way: “Superstition lies in the space between what we can control and what we can’t. …We rely on superstitions because we are smart enough to know we don’t have all the answers and that life works in mysterious ways. Don’t diss the juju from wherever it comes.”

“Superstition and science both start at the same place — to explain an unexplainable event,” said Dr. Gottesman, who always checks his suture lines at the end of a surgery in the order in which he did them. “If science provides a coherent answer, so be it. If not, the human’s need for order will assign causality to otherwise inanimate objects, noncausal events, or divine influence.”

In other words, the more unknowns and trepidation, the greater the tendency toward what Dr. Gottesman called “magical thinking.” And when you consider healing’s long history, you realize that ritual and superstition defined medicine for centuries. Gottesman pointed out that it wasn’t until Hippocrates separated religion and superstition from disease around 430 BC that modern medicine was born. But because doctors still don’t know everything, an element of magic endures.

The question is, in this high-tech age, do these stubborn beliefs still have a place? Do they help or hinder doctors, and, most important, do they have any effect on patient outcomes?
 

Five Benefits

To reiterate, there are no studies showing that Wonder Woman clogs convey surgical superpowers or that eating two hard-boiled eggs boosts OR performance. But anecdotally, many doctors admit to experiencing noticeable perks from their quirks. Let’s start with the supposed benefits:

• Less stress: A quarter of US clinicians are considering switching careers, primarily due to burnout, according to a 2022 Bain survey. “The fact that [rituals and superstitions] are so prevalent in such a high-stress field can’t be coincidence,” said Dr. Fong. “Offloading some of the responsibility to whatever gods there may be is a way of taming our anxieties so we can function better.”
• Hyperfocus: Dr. Emamaullee played volleyball in high school and college. She suggested that her presurgical routine isn’t all that different from her warmup before a championship match. It’s habitual behavior that helps induce a state of heightened concentration, confidence, and immersion. Athletes call it being “in the zone” or in a “state of flow,” and Dr. Emamaullee said she experiences the same thing in the OR.
• More control: Remember those horrific images of patients with COVID-19 overwhelming ERs in Brooklyn and Queens during the pandemic? Dr. Fong was in the middle of that. “In crisis situations where there are more unknowns, rituals and superstitions become even more important,” she said. “I may not be able to control what’s happening, but I can control myself. Rituals help restore some normalcy and organization, and they give me a sense of calm.”
• Better performance: A series of general-population experiments published in the journal Psychological Science in 2010 concluded that “good-luck–related superstitions” boosted self-confidence in mastering upcoming tasks and improved motor dexterity, memory, and overall performance.
• Placebo effect: This phenomenon is well-established in medicine. Give someone a special pill or treatment, and a significant portion will claim benefit. “Placebo is magical thinking,” said Dr. Gottesman. “It has identifiable and quantifiable effects on human disease.” And perhaps on medical practitioners, too. If a doctor believes her friendship bracelet has special powers and helps her be a better physician, then it just might.

Four Drawbacks

• Compulsive behavior: When superstitious beliefs or repetitive behaviors begin causing personal distress, interfering with daily duties, or negatively affecting patient outcomes, then there’s a problem. There’s a story on Quora about a neurosurgeon who always ate two Hostess Ho Hos chocolate cakes before operations. When he forgot to do so one day, he supposedly left his patient on the table and ran off to eat them. Even if it’s urban legend, it’s a useful illustration of quirk disrupting work.
• Less flexibility: Every human body and every surgery is different. “When ritualistic behaviors or habits become so rigid that you lose the ability to adapt, then that becomes dangerous for the patient,” said Dr. Fong. “The art of medicine, not unlike jazz, often comes from the improvisation.”
• Self-fulfilling: Just as rituals and superstitions can empower and provide a sense of control, they can quickly turn on physicians who forget a part of their routine or leave their talisman on the bureau. Instead of confidence, they supply doubt. The karma becomes kryptonite.
• Avoiding responsibility: After years of friendship bracelets and Wonder Woman clogs, Dr. Bajaj is making a deliberate effort to excise magical thinking from her practice. “It can hold you back if you’re not careful,” she said. “If you start using it as a crutch when something goes wrong — like ‘Oh, I wasn’t wearing my clogs today and that’s why my flap failed’ — then you’re not doing your due diligence and figuring out what really happened.” Rather than placing the responsibility for her day going well on superstition, she’s trying to own it herself by living with more intent.

The Diagnosis

Most of the medical experts I spoke with didn’t think there was anything wrong with rituals or superstitions as long as they didn’t become compulsive or a convenient repository of blame.

“Rituals and superstitions are an acknowledgment that forces external to ourselves exist,” concluded Dr. Fong. “They’re like tiny offerings to whatever gods are out there to please be on our side. And we keep doing them because there’s a reward — better patient outcomes, which is all we want to achieve in the end. I say embrace them.”

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The second-floor operating rooms at Lehigh Valley Hospital in Allentown, Pennsylvania, are numbered sequentially — except when you get to what should be operation room (OR) 13. It’s OR M. The M doesn’t stand for Maternity or any other specialty. Rather in this high-tech, state-of-the art healthcare center, it’s there to ward off bad juju and evil spirits.

“Just as taller buildings usually don’t have a 13th floor or hotels don’t have a room 13, it revolves around the common superstition of the unlucky nature of number 13,” said a hospital spokesperson.

During the pandemic, the public was told repeatedly that modern medicine is science-based. But when I started talking to surgeons and other physicians for this article, I uncovered something decidedly unscientific.

In ORs and emergency rooms (ERs), small-town doctor’s offices, and mega hospitals, there’s a measure of dread before full moons and Friday the 13th, and no one dares utter the Q word (as in, “It sure is quiet today.”) That would risk bringing the wrath of the medical gods, and you’d earn the reputation of being a jinx or “black cloud.” Likewise, the songs “Stairway to Heaven” or “Another One Bites the Dust” will never be heard in any waiting room, elevator, or OR.

Indeed, when it comes to superstitions and rituals in medicine, it seems everyone has a story or a belief. …
 

A 2-Hour Ritual

Carmen Fong, MD, a colorectal surgeon in New York City, had a presurgical ritual that took her nearly 2 hours to complete. “I’d wake up at the same time every day, pack two hard-boiled eggs and a thermos of coffee in my small leather bag, walk to work via the same route, and swipe into the preop area while waving hi to the front desk,” she recounted. “I’d talk to the patient, sign the consent with the same ballpoint pen, go upstairs to my office, change into my scrubs [same cap and Danskos], then turn on my computer, and take a sip of coffee before heading back down to the OR. I’d always remove my badge and place it near the nurses’ workstation, then put on the patient’s SCDs [sequential compression devices] myself. I’d hold the oxygen mask while telling the patient, ‘See you later.’ Never ‘It will be okay’ or ‘Have a good sleep.’ Always ‘See you later.’ ”

Dr. Fong did this for 5 years prior to more than a thousand surgeries. She did it because it made her feel calm and in control, which translated to more successful operations. “It never failed me.”
 

Wonder Woman Clogs

Anureet Bajaj, MD, a plastic surgeon in Oklahoma City, wore Wonder Woman clogs in the OR for years because “they made me feel stronger, and my surgeries went better.” She’s also very specific about her OR playlist; “it must be ‘80s music.” And for a time, she wore a friendship bracelet that one of her employees made to commemorate getting through a particularly hard day. “If I forgot it, my heart sank, and my anxiety rose,” she said. “Wearing it gave me security and confidence that the day would go well.”

A Moment of Silence

Juliet Emamaullee, MD, PhD, is a liver and kidney transplant surgeon at Keck Hospital and Children’s Hospital Los Angeles. Because of the complexity of her operations, she must know every aspect of her patients’ medical history. This leads to a level of intimacy that most people never have with their doctors. “Transplant surgeons are playing god in many ways,” she said. “During procurement, after we prep and drape the donor and right before I make the incision, everyone in the OR has a moment of silence to acknowledge the donation. If the organ has been transported, then I’ll say a prayer to myself that I do good work with this generous gift of life.”

Magical Thinking

Before we go any further, I should clarify that there’s a difference between rituals and superstitions like the ones just shared and routines and practices such as handwashing or doublechecking that it’s the right hip and not the left. All pilots have a preflight checklist that’s necessary for safety, but some might also make the sign of the cross.

Lester Gottesman, MD, has been a surgeon at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City for nearly 50 years. He believes rituals and superstitions are more prevalent in medicine than in any other profession, despite there being no definitive research confirming their effectiveness.

In fact, it’s the opposite.

One of the few studies to examine superstitions among physicians was published in the Annals of Surgery in 2021. Researchers analyzed the operational records of 27,914 consecutive patients who underwent general, visceral, or vascular surgery. They found no association of moon phases, zodiac signs, or Friday the 13th with poor outcomes. Having acute coronary syndrome on Friday the 13th also did not influence the 13-year mortality rate compared to other dates in the year. And although 70% of physicians believe that some colleagues are “black clouds,” an analysis of 96 physicians and 6149 admissions found no such pattern.

Granted, this is just one analysis, but the results aren’t surprising. No one really believes in this stuff. So, why does it persist?

Dr. Gottesman cited an episode from the popular medical TV show Grey’s Anatomy, in which chief surgeon Meredith Grey puts it this way: “Superstition lies in the space between what we can control and what we can’t. …We rely on superstitions because we are smart enough to know we don’t have all the answers and that life works in mysterious ways. Don’t diss the juju from wherever it comes.”

“Superstition and science both start at the same place — to explain an unexplainable event,” said Dr. Gottesman, who always checks his suture lines at the end of a surgery in the order in which he did them. “If science provides a coherent answer, so be it. If not, the human’s need for order will assign causality to otherwise inanimate objects, noncausal events, or divine influence.”

In other words, the more unknowns and trepidation, the greater the tendency toward what Dr. Gottesman called “magical thinking.” And when you consider healing’s long history, you realize that ritual and superstition defined medicine for centuries. Gottesman pointed out that it wasn’t until Hippocrates separated religion and superstition from disease around 430 BC that modern medicine was born. But because doctors still don’t know everything, an element of magic endures.

The question is, in this high-tech age, do these stubborn beliefs still have a place? Do they help or hinder doctors, and, most important, do they have any effect on patient outcomes?
 

Five Benefits

To reiterate, there are no studies showing that Wonder Woman clogs convey surgical superpowers or that eating two hard-boiled eggs boosts OR performance. But anecdotally, many doctors admit to experiencing noticeable perks from their quirks. Let’s start with the supposed benefits:

• Less stress: A quarter of US clinicians are considering switching careers, primarily due to burnout, according to a 2022 Bain survey. “The fact that [rituals and superstitions] are so prevalent in such a high-stress field can’t be coincidence,” said Dr. Fong. “Offloading some of the responsibility to whatever gods there may be is a way of taming our anxieties so we can function better.”
• Hyperfocus: Dr. Emamaullee played volleyball in high school and college. She suggested that her presurgical routine isn’t all that different from her warmup before a championship match. It’s habitual behavior that helps induce a state of heightened concentration, confidence, and immersion. Athletes call it being “in the zone” or in a “state of flow,” and Dr. Emamaullee said she experiences the same thing in the OR.
• More control: Remember those horrific images of patients with COVID-19 overwhelming ERs in Brooklyn and Queens during the pandemic? Dr. Fong was in the middle of that. “In crisis situations where there are more unknowns, rituals and superstitions become even more important,” she said. “I may not be able to control what’s happening, but I can control myself. Rituals help restore some normalcy and organization, and they give me a sense of calm.”
• Better performance: A series of general-population experiments published in the journal Psychological Science in 2010 concluded that “good-luck–related superstitions” boosted self-confidence in mastering upcoming tasks and improved motor dexterity, memory, and overall performance.
• Placebo effect: This phenomenon is well-established in medicine. Give someone a special pill or treatment, and a significant portion will claim benefit. “Placebo is magical thinking,” said Dr. Gottesman. “It has identifiable and quantifiable effects on human disease.” And perhaps on medical practitioners, too. If a doctor believes her friendship bracelet has special powers and helps her be a better physician, then it just might.

Four Drawbacks

• Compulsive behavior: When superstitious beliefs or repetitive behaviors begin causing personal distress, interfering with daily duties, or negatively affecting patient outcomes, then there’s a problem. There’s a story on Quora about a neurosurgeon who always ate two Hostess Ho Hos chocolate cakes before operations. When he forgot to do so one day, he supposedly left his patient on the table and ran off to eat them. Even if it’s urban legend, it’s a useful illustration of quirk disrupting work.
• Less flexibility: Every human body and every surgery is different. “When ritualistic behaviors or habits become so rigid that you lose the ability to adapt, then that becomes dangerous for the patient,” said Dr. Fong. “The art of medicine, not unlike jazz, often comes from the improvisation.”
• Self-fulfilling: Just as rituals and superstitions can empower and provide a sense of control, they can quickly turn on physicians who forget a part of their routine or leave their talisman on the bureau. Instead of confidence, they supply doubt. The karma becomes kryptonite.
• Avoiding responsibility: After years of friendship bracelets and Wonder Woman clogs, Dr. Bajaj is making a deliberate effort to excise magical thinking from her practice. “It can hold you back if you’re not careful,” she said. “If you start using it as a crutch when something goes wrong — like ‘Oh, I wasn’t wearing my clogs today and that’s why my flap failed’ — then you’re not doing your due diligence and figuring out what really happened.” Rather than placing the responsibility for her day going well on superstition, she’s trying to own it herself by living with more intent.

The Diagnosis

Most of the medical experts I spoke with didn’t think there was anything wrong with rituals or superstitions as long as they didn’t become compulsive or a convenient repository of blame.

“Rituals and superstitions are an acknowledgment that forces external to ourselves exist,” concluded Dr. Fong. “They’re like tiny offerings to whatever gods are out there to please be on our side. And we keep doing them because there’s a reward — better patient outcomes, which is all we want to achieve in the end. I say embrace them.”

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

For decades, pre-med students depended on the annual medical school rankings by U.S. News and World Report to decide where to apply for physician education. But after several prominent med schools pulled out of the rankings, one resident began experimenting with artificial intelligence (AI) to create an alternative.

Brandon Turner MD, MSc, a radiation oncology resident at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, developed a free do-it-yourself tool using AI that allows prospective students to rank medical schools based on considerations that are most important to them. His research was published online in JAMA Network Open.

“One of the flaws with conventional ranking systems is that the metrics used in these tools are weighted based on the preferences and views of the people who developed these rankings, but those may not work for everyone,” Dr. Turner told this news organization.

He explained that there are different types of metrics used in the U.S. News ranking: one for research and the other for primary care. “The research rankings carry the most prestige and are the ones that most people know about,” he explained. These metrics take into account factors such as how many grant dollars the medical school receives and the average size of those grants per faculty member, Dr. Turner said.

Admission metrics are also included – for example, the median grade point average or MCAT scores of students who have been accepted. “These don’t tell you anything about the research output of the school, only about how selective the school is,” he said.

Primary care metrics might focus on how many graduates of a given school go into primary care, or how other schools rate the quality of primary care training at a given school – a process called peer assessment, Dr. Turner said.

But even though these might be helpful, students may be more interested in the cost of attendance, average debt, representation of minorities, and how many graduates pass their boards, he said. “U.S. News metrics don’t capture these things, but I included them in my algorithm.”

A U.S. News spokesperson said that the publication continues to help students and their families make decisions about their future education. The spokesperson cited U.S. News’ explanation of how it calculates its rankings. “A school’s overall Best Medical Schools rank should be one consideration and not the lone determinant in where a student applies and accepts,” the article states.

Dr. Turner agreed ranking systems are a good starting point when researching med schools, “but the values reflected in the ranking may not reflect an individual’s goals.”

Tyra-Lee Brett, a premed student at the University of South Florida, Tampa, believes an additional tool for students to evaluate medical schools is needed – and she could potentially see herself using Dr. Turner’s creation.

Still, Ms. Brett, a premed trustee of the American Medical Student Association, doesn’t regard any ranking tool as the “be all and end all.” Rather, she feels that the most effective tool would be based on students’ lived experiences. The AMSA is developing a scorecard in which students grade schools based on their opinions about such issues as housing, family planning, and environmental health, she said.
 

No prior judgments

To develop his algorithm, Dr. Turner used a branch of AI called “unsupervised learning.” It doesn’t make a prior judgment about what the data should look like, Dr. Turner explained.

“You’re just analyzing natural trends within the data.”

The algorithm tries to find and discover clusters or patterns within the data. “It’s like saying to the algorithm: ‘I want you to tell me what schools you think should be grouped together based on the data I feed you,’ which is the data that the user selects based on his or her personal preferences.”

U.S. News has been transparent about the metrics it uses, Dr. Turner notes. “When I started looking into how rankings are developed, I saw that there was transparency, and the reasoning for choosing the metrics used to develop the ranking was pretty sound,” he said.

“But I didn’t see any justification as to why they chose the particular metrics and weighted them in the way that they did.”

Dr. Turner extracted data from the 2023 U.S. News report, which ranked 109 allopathic medical schools, and applied several scenarios to the results to create his alternative ranking system.

In one scenario, he used the same research metrics used by U.S. News, such as a peer research assessment, median federal research activity per full-time faculty member, median GPA, median MCAT, acceptance rate, and faculty-student ratio.

In another scenario, he included four additional metrics: debt, in-state cost of attendance, USMLE Step 1 passing rate, and percentage of underrepresented students with minority race or ethnicity at the school.

For example, a user can rank the importance of the diversity of the class, amount of debt students expect to incur, and amount of research funding the medical school receives. After selecting those factors, the tool generates tiered results displayed in a circle, a shape chosen to avoid the appearance of the hierarchy associated with traditional rankings, Dr. Turner said.

“A prospective student might not care about acceptance rates and MCAT scores, and instead cares about diversity and debt,” Dr. Turner said. He looks forward to extending this approach to the ranking of colleges as well.
 

‘Imperfect measures’

“The model and interesting online tool that Dr. Turner created allows a premed [student] to generate custom rankings that are in line with their own priorities,” said Christopher Worsham, MD, MPH, a critical care physician in Mass General’s division of pulmonary and critical care medicine.

But Dr. Worsham, also a teaching associate at Harvard Medical School’s department of health care policy, expressed concern that factors figuring into the rankings by U.S. News and Dr. Turner’s alternative “are imperfect measures of medical school quality.”

For example, a student interested in research might favor federal research funding in their customized rankings with Dr. Turner’s model. “But higher research funding doesn’t necessarily translate into a better education for students, particularly when differentiating between two major research systems,” Dr. Worsham noted.

Dr. Worsham added that neither ranking system accurately predicts the quality of doctors graduating from the schools. Instead, he’d like to see ranking systems based on which schools’ graduates deliver the best patient outcomes, whether that’s through direct patient care, impactful research, or leadership within the health care system.

Michael Sauder, PhD, professor of sociology at the University of Iowa, Iowa City, said the model could offer a valuable alternative to the U.S. News ranking system. It might help users develop their own criteria for determining the ranking of medical schools, which is a big improvement over a “one-size-fits-all” approach, Dr. Sauder said.

And Hanna Stotland, an admission consultant based in Chicago, noted that most students rely on rankings because they “don’t have the luxury of advisers who know the ins and outs of different medical schools.” Given the role that rankings play, Ms. Stotland expects that every new ranking tool will have some influence on students.

This tool in particular “has the potential to be useful for students who have identified values they want their medical school to share.” For example, students who care about racial diversity “could use it to easily identify schools that are successful on that metric,” Ms. Stotland said.

Sujay Ratna, a 2nd-year med student at Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York, said he considered the U.S. News ranking his “go-to tool” when he was applying to med school.

But after reading Dr. Turner’s article, the AMSA membership vice president tried the algorithm. “I definitely would have used it had it existed when I was thinking of what schools to apply to and what [schools] to attend.”

The study had no specific funding. Dr. Turner, Dr. Worsham, Dr. Sauder, Ms. Stotland, Ms. Brett, and Mr. Ratna report no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

For decades, pre-med students depended on the annual medical school rankings by U.S. News and World Report to decide where to apply for physician education. But after several prominent med schools pulled out of the rankings, one resident began experimenting with artificial intelligence (AI) to create an alternative.

Brandon Turner MD, MSc, a radiation oncology resident at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, developed a free do-it-yourself tool using AI that allows prospective students to rank medical schools based on considerations that are most important to them. His research was published online in JAMA Network Open.

“One of the flaws with conventional ranking systems is that the metrics used in these tools are weighted based on the preferences and views of the people who developed these rankings, but those may not work for everyone,” Dr. Turner told this news organization.

He explained that there are different types of metrics used in the U.S. News ranking: one for research and the other for primary care. “The research rankings carry the most prestige and are the ones that most people know about,” he explained. These metrics take into account factors such as how many grant dollars the medical school receives and the average size of those grants per faculty member, Dr. Turner said.

Admission metrics are also included – for example, the median grade point average or MCAT scores of students who have been accepted. “These don’t tell you anything about the research output of the school, only about how selective the school is,” he said.

Primary care metrics might focus on how many graduates of a given school go into primary care, or how other schools rate the quality of primary care training at a given school – a process called peer assessment, Dr. Turner said.

But even though these might be helpful, students may be more interested in the cost of attendance, average debt, representation of minorities, and how many graduates pass their boards, he said. “U.S. News metrics don’t capture these things, but I included them in my algorithm.”

A U.S. News spokesperson said that the publication continues to help students and their families make decisions about their future education. The spokesperson cited U.S. News’ explanation of how it calculates its rankings. “A school’s overall Best Medical Schools rank should be one consideration and not the lone determinant in where a student applies and accepts,” the article states.

Dr. Turner agreed ranking systems are a good starting point when researching med schools, “but the values reflected in the ranking may not reflect an individual’s goals.”

Tyra-Lee Brett, a premed student at the University of South Florida, Tampa, believes an additional tool for students to evaluate medical schools is needed – and she could potentially see herself using Dr. Turner’s creation.

Still, Ms. Brett, a premed trustee of the American Medical Student Association, doesn’t regard any ranking tool as the “be all and end all.” Rather, she feels that the most effective tool would be based on students’ lived experiences. The AMSA is developing a scorecard in which students grade schools based on their opinions about such issues as housing, family planning, and environmental health, she said.
 

No prior judgments

To develop his algorithm, Dr. Turner used a branch of AI called “unsupervised learning.” It doesn’t make a prior judgment about what the data should look like, Dr. Turner explained.

“You’re just analyzing natural trends within the data.”

The algorithm tries to find and discover clusters or patterns within the data. “It’s like saying to the algorithm: ‘I want you to tell me what schools you think should be grouped together based on the data I feed you,’ which is the data that the user selects based on his or her personal preferences.”

U.S. News has been transparent about the metrics it uses, Dr. Turner notes. “When I started looking into how rankings are developed, I saw that there was transparency, and the reasoning for choosing the metrics used to develop the ranking was pretty sound,” he said.

“But I didn’t see any justification as to why they chose the particular metrics and weighted them in the way that they did.”

Dr. Turner extracted data from the 2023 U.S. News report, which ranked 109 allopathic medical schools, and applied several scenarios to the results to create his alternative ranking system.

In one scenario, he used the same research metrics used by U.S. News, such as a peer research assessment, median federal research activity per full-time faculty member, median GPA, median MCAT, acceptance rate, and faculty-student ratio.

In another scenario, he included four additional metrics: debt, in-state cost of attendance, USMLE Step 1 passing rate, and percentage of underrepresented students with minority race or ethnicity at the school.

For example, a user can rank the importance of the diversity of the class, amount of debt students expect to incur, and amount of research funding the medical school receives. After selecting those factors, the tool generates tiered results displayed in a circle, a shape chosen to avoid the appearance of the hierarchy associated with traditional rankings, Dr. Turner said.

“A prospective student might not care about acceptance rates and MCAT scores, and instead cares about diversity and debt,” Dr. Turner said. He looks forward to extending this approach to the ranking of colleges as well.
 

‘Imperfect measures’

“The model and interesting online tool that Dr. Turner created allows a premed [student] to generate custom rankings that are in line with their own priorities,” said Christopher Worsham, MD, MPH, a critical care physician in Mass General’s division of pulmonary and critical care medicine.

But Dr. Worsham, also a teaching associate at Harvard Medical School’s department of health care policy, expressed concern that factors figuring into the rankings by U.S. News and Dr. Turner’s alternative “are imperfect measures of medical school quality.”

For example, a student interested in research might favor federal research funding in their customized rankings with Dr. Turner’s model. “But higher research funding doesn’t necessarily translate into a better education for students, particularly when differentiating between two major research systems,” Dr. Worsham noted.

Dr. Worsham added that neither ranking system accurately predicts the quality of doctors graduating from the schools. Instead, he’d like to see ranking systems based on which schools’ graduates deliver the best patient outcomes, whether that’s through direct patient care, impactful research, or leadership within the health care system.

Michael Sauder, PhD, professor of sociology at the University of Iowa, Iowa City, said the model could offer a valuable alternative to the U.S. News ranking system. It might help users develop their own criteria for determining the ranking of medical schools, which is a big improvement over a “one-size-fits-all” approach, Dr. Sauder said.

And Hanna Stotland, an admission consultant based in Chicago, noted that most students rely on rankings because they “don’t have the luxury of advisers who know the ins and outs of different medical schools.” Given the role that rankings play, Ms. Stotland expects that every new ranking tool will have some influence on students.

This tool in particular “has the potential to be useful for students who have identified values they want their medical school to share.” For example, students who care about racial diversity “could use it to easily identify schools that are successful on that metric,” Ms. Stotland said.

Sujay Ratna, a 2nd-year med student at Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York, said he considered the U.S. News ranking his “go-to tool” when he was applying to med school.

But after reading Dr. Turner’s article, the AMSA membership vice president tried the algorithm. “I definitely would have used it had it existed when I was thinking of what schools to apply to and what [schools] to attend.”

The study had no specific funding. Dr. Turner, Dr. Worsham, Dr. Sauder, Ms. Stotland, Ms. Brett, and Mr. Ratna report no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

For decades, pre-med students depended on the annual medical school rankings by U.S. News and World Report to decide where to apply for physician education. But after several prominent med schools pulled out of the rankings, one resident began experimenting with artificial intelligence (AI) to create an alternative.

Brandon Turner MD, MSc, a radiation oncology resident at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, developed a free do-it-yourself tool using AI that allows prospective students to rank medical schools based on considerations that are most important to them. His research was published online in JAMA Network Open.

“One of the flaws with conventional ranking systems is that the metrics used in these tools are weighted based on the preferences and views of the people who developed these rankings, but those may not work for everyone,” Dr. Turner told this news organization.

He explained that there are different types of metrics used in the U.S. News ranking: one for research and the other for primary care. “The research rankings carry the most prestige and are the ones that most people know about,” he explained. These metrics take into account factors such as how many grant dollars the medical school receives and the average size of those grants per faculty member, Dr. Turner said.

Admission metrics are also included – for example, the median grade point average or MCAT scores of students who have been accepted. “These don’t tell you anything about the research output of the school, only about how selective the school is,” he said.

Primary care metrics might focus on how many graduates of a given school go into primary care, or how other schools rate the quality of primary care training at a given school – a process called peer assessment, Dr. Turner said.

But even though these might be helpful, students may be more interested in the cost of attendance, average debt, representation of minorities, and how many graduates pass their boards, he said. “U.S. News metrics don’t capture these things, but I included them in my algorithm.”

A U.S. News spokesperson said that the publication continues to help students and their families make decisions about their future education. The spokesperson cited U.S. News’ explanation of how it calculates its rankings. “A school’s overall Best Medical Schools rank should be one consideration and not the lone determinant in where a student applies and accepts,” the article states.

Dr. Turner agreed ranking systems are a good starting point when researching med schools, “but the values reflected in the ranking may not reflect an individual’s goals.”

Tyra-Lee Brett, a premed student at the University of South Florida, Tampa, believes an additional tool for students to evaluate medical schools is needed – and she could potentially see herself using Dr. Turner’s creation.

Still, Ms. Brett, a premed trustee of the American Medical Student Association, doesn’t regard any ranking tool as the “be all and end all.” Rather, she feels that the most effective tool would be based on students’ lived experiences. The AMSA is developing a scorecard in which students grade schools based on their opinions about such issues as housing, family planning, and environmental health, she said.
 

No prior judgments

To develop his algorithm, Dr. Turner used a branch of AI called “unsupervised learning.” It doesn’t make a prior judgment about what the data should look like, Dr. Turner explained.

“You’re just analyzing natural trends within the data.”

The algorithm tries to find and discover clusters or patterns within the data. “It’s like saying to the algorithm: ‘I want you to tell me what schools you think should be grouped together based on the data I feed you,’ which is the data that the user selects based on his or her personal preferences.”

U.S. News has been transparent about the metrics it uses, Dr. Turner notes. “When I started looking into how rankings are developed, I saw that there was transparency, and the reasoning for choosing the metrics used to develop the ranking was pretty sound,” he said.

“But I didn’t see any justification as to why they chose the particular metrics and weighted them in the way that they did.”

Dr. Turner extracted data from the 2023 U.S. News report, which ranked 109 allopathic medical schools, and applied several scenarios to the results to create his alternative ranking system.

In one scenario, he used the same research metrics used by U.S. News, such as a peer research assessment, median federal research activity per full-time faculty member, median GPA, median MCAT, acceptance rate, and faculty-student ratio.

In another scenario, he included four additional metrics: debt, in-state cost of attendance, USMLE Step 1 passing rate, and percentage of underrepresented students with minority race or ethnicity at the school.

For example, a user can rank the importance of the diversity of the class, amount of debt students expect to incur, and amount of research funding the medical school receives. After selecting those factors, the tool generates tiered results displayed in a circle, a shape chosen to avoid the appearance of the hierarchy associated with traditional rankings, Dr. Turner said.

“A prospective student might not care about acceptance rates and MCAT scores, and instead cares about diversity and debt,” Dr. Turner said. He looks forward to extending this approach to the ranking of colleges as well.
 

‘Imperfect measures’

“The model and interesting online tool that Dr. Turner created allows a premed [student] to generate custom rankings that are in line with their own priorities,” said Christopher Worsham, MD, MPH, a critical care physician in Mass General’s division of pulmonary and critical care medicine.

But Dr. Worsham, also a teaching associate at Harvard Medical School’s department of health care policy, expressed concern that factors figuring into the rankings by U.S. News and Dr. Turner’s alternative “are imperfect measures of medical school quality.”

For example, a student interested in research might favor federal research funding in their customized rankings with Dr. Turner’s model. “But higher research funding doesn’t necessarily translate into a better education for students, particularly when differentiating between two major research systems,” Dr. Worsham noted.

Dr. Worsham added that neither ranking system accurately predicts the quality of doctors graduating from the schools. Instead, he’d like to see ranking systems based on which schools’ graduates deliver the best patient outcomes, whether that’s through direct patient care, impactful research, or leadership within the health care system.

Michael Sauder, PhD, professor of sociology at the University of Iowa, Iowa City, said the model could offer a valuable alternative to the U.S. News ranking system. It might help users develop their own criteria for determining the ranking of medical schools, which is a big improvement over a “one-size-fits-all” approach, Dr. Sauder said.

And Hanna Stotland, an admission consultant based in Chicago, noted that most students rely on rankings because they “don’t have the luxury of advisers who know the ins and outs of different medical schools.” Given the role that rankings play, Ms. Stotland expects that every new ranking tool will have some influence on students.

This tool in particular “has the potential to be useful for students who have identified values they want their medical school to share.” For example, students who care about racial diversity “could use it to easily identify schools that are successful on that metric,” Ms. Stotland said.

Sujay Ratna, a 2nd-year med student at Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York, said he considered the U.S. News ranking his “go-to tool” when he was applying to med school.

But after reading Dr. Turner’s article, the AMSA membership vice president tried the algorithm. “I definitely would have used it had it existed when I was thinking of what schools to apply to and what [schools] to attend.”

The study had no specific funding. Dr. Turner, Dr. Worsham, Dr. Sauder, Ms. Stotland, Ms. Brett, and Mr. Ratna report no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Internists experienced many of the usual ups and downs regarding nonclinical matters in 2022: Compensation was up, but satisfaction with compensation was down; the percentage of internists who would choose another specialty was up and time spent on paperwork and administration was down only slightly.

A year that began with the COVID-19 Omicron surge ended with many of the same old issues regaining the attention of physicians, according to those who responded to Medscape’s annual compensation survey, which was conducted from Oct. 2, 2022, to Jan. 17, 2023.

“Decreasing Medicare reimbursement and poor payor mix destroy our income,” one physician wrote, and another said that “patients have become rude and come with poor information from social media.” One respondent described the situation this way: “Overwhelming burnout. I had to reduce my hours to keep myself from quitting medicine completely.”

For internists at least, some of the survey results were positive. For the 13% of the 10,011 respondents who practice internal medicine, average compensation went from $264,000 in 2021 to $273,000 in 2022, an increase of almost 4% that matched the average for all physicians. Among the other primary care specialists, pediatricians did almost as well with a 3% increase, but ob.gyns. and family physicians only managed to keep their 2022 earnings at 2021 levels.

Overall physician compensation for 2022 was $352,000, an increase of almost 18% since 2018. “Supply and demand is the biggest driver,” Mike Belkin, JD, of physician recruitment firm Merritt Hawkins, said in an interview. “Organizations understand it’s not getting any easier to get good candidates, and so for the most part, physicians are getting good offers.”

The latest increase in earnings among internists also included a decline: The disparity between mens’ and womens’ compensation dropped from 24% in 2021 to 16% in 2022. The gap was slightly larger for all physicians in 2022, with men earning about 19% more than women, and larger again among specialists at 27%, but both of those figures are lower than in recent years, Medscape said.

Satisfaction with their compensation, however, was not high for internists: Only 43% feel that they are fairly paid, coming in above only ophthalmology (42%) and infectious diseases (35%) and well below psychiatry (68%) at the top of the list, the Medscape data show. In the 2022 report, 49% of internists said that they had been fairly paid.

In another source of potential dissatisfaction, internist respondents reported spending an average of 17.9 hours each week on paperwork and administration, just below the survey leaders, physical medicine and rehabilitation (18.5 hours) and nephrology (18.1 hours) and well above anesthesiology, which was the lowest of the 29 specialties at 9.0 hours, and the 2022 average of 15.5 hours for all physicians, Medscape said. A small bright spot comes in the form of a decline from the internists’ time of 18.7 hours per week in 2021.

When asked if they would choose medicine again, 72% of internist respondents and 73% of all physicians said yes, with emergency medicine (65%) and dermatology (86%) representing the two extremes. A question about specialty choice showed internists to be the least likely of the 29 included specialties to follow the same path, with 61% (down from 63% in 2022) approving their initial selection, versus 97% for plastic surgeons, Medscape reported.

Commenters among the survey respondents were not identified by specialty, but dissatisfaction on many fronts was a definite theme:

• “Our costs go up, and our reimbursement does not.”
• “Our practice was acquired by venture capital firms; they slashed costs.”
• “My productivity bonus should have come to $45,000. Instead I was paid only $15,000. Yet cardiologists and administrators who were working from home part of the year received their full bonus.”
• “I will no longer practice cookbook mediocrity.”

Internists experienced many of the usual ups and downs regarding nonclinical matters in 2022: Compensation was up, but satisfaction with compensation was down; the percentage of internists who would choose another specialty was up and time spent on paperwork and administration was down only slightly.

A year that began with the COVID-19 Omicron surge ended with many of the same old issues regaining the attention of physicians, according to those who responded to Medscape’s annual compensation survey, which was conducted from Oct. 2, 2022, to Jan. 17, 2023.

“Decreasing Medicare reimbursement and poor payor mix destroy our income,” one physician wrote, and another said that “patients have become rude and come with poor information from social media.” One respondent described the situation this way: “Overwhelming burnout. I had to reduce my hours to keep myself from quitting medicine completely.”

For internists at least, some of the survey results were positive. For the 13% of the 10,011 respondents who practice internal medicine, average compensation went from $264,000 in 2021 to $273,000 in 2022, an increase of almost 4% that matched the average for all physicians. Among the other primary care specialists, pediatricians did almost as well with a 3% increase, but ob.gyns. and family physicians only managed to keep their 2022 earnings at 2021 levels.

Overall physician compensation for 2022 was $352,000, an increase of almost 18% since 2018. “Supply and demand is the biggest driver,” Mike Belkin, JD, of physician recruitment firm Merritt Hawkins, said in an interview. “Organizations understand it’s not getting any easier to get good candidates, and so for the most part, physicians are getting good offers.”

The latest increase in earnings among internists also included a decline: The disparity between mens’ and womens’ compensation dropped from 24% in 2021 to 16% in 2022. The gap was slightly larger for all physicians in 2022, with men earning about 19% more than women, and larger again among specialists at 27%, but both of those figures are lower than in recent years, Medscape said.

Satisfaction with their compensation, however, was not high for internists: Only 43% feel that they are fairly paid, coming in above only ophthalmology (42%) and infectious diseases (35%) and well below psychiatry (68%) at the top of the list, the Medscape data show. In the 2022 report, 49% of internists said that they had been fairly paid.

In another source of potential dissatisfaction, internist respondents reported spending an average of 17.9 hours each week on paperwork and administration, just below the survey leaders, physical medicine and rehabilitation (18.5 hours) and nephrology (18.1 hours) and well above anesthesiology, which was the lowest of the 29 specialties at 9.0 hours, and the 2022 average of 15.5 hours for all physicians, Medscape said. A small bright spot comes in the form of a decline from the internists’ time of 18.7 hours per week in 2021.

When asked if they would choose medicine again, 72% of internist respondents and 73% of all physicians said yes, with emergency medicine (65%) and dermatology (86%) representing the two extremes. A question about specialty choice showed internists to be the least likely of the 29 included specialties to follow the same path, with 61% (down from 63% in 2022) approving their initial selection, versus 97% for plastic surgeons, Medscape reported.

Commenters among the survey respondents were not identified by specialty, but dissatisfaction on many fronts was a definite theme:

• “Our costs go up, and our reimbursement does not.”
• “Our practice was acquired by venture capital firms; they slashed costs.”
• “My productivity bonus should have come to $45,000. Instead I was paid only $15,000. Yet cardiologists and administrators who were working from home part of the year received their full bonus.”
• “I will no longer practice cookbook mediocrity.”

Internists experienced many of the usual ups and downs regarding nonclinical matters in 2022: Compensation was up, but satisfaction with compensation was down; the percentage of internists who would choose another specialty was up and time spent on paperwork and administration was down only slightly.

A year that began with the COVID-19 Omicron surge ended with many of the same old issues regaining the attention of physicians, according to those who responded to Medscape’s annual compensation survey, which was conducted from Oct. 2, 2022, to Jan. 17, 2023.

“Decreasing Medicare reimbursement and poor payor mix destroy our income,” one physician wrote, and another said that “patients have become rude and come with poor information from social media.” One respondent described the situation this way: “Overwhelming burnout. I had to reduce my hours to keep myself from quitting medicine completely.”

For internists at least, some of the survey results were positive. For the 13% of the 10,011 respondents who practice internal medicine, average compensation went from $264,000 in 2021 to $273,000 in 2022, an increase of almost 4% that matched the average for all physicians. Among the other primary care specialists, pediatricians did almost as well with a 3% increase, but ob.gyns. and family physicians only managed to keep their 2022 earnings at 2021 levels.

Overall physician compensation for 2022 was $352,000, an increase of almost 18% since 2018. “Supply and demand is the biggest driver,” Mike Belkin, JD, of physician recruitment firm Merritt Hawkins, said in an interview. “Organizations understand it’s not getting any easier to get good candidates, and so for the most part, physicians are getting good offers.”

The latest increase in earnings among internists also included a decline: The disparity between mens’ and womens’ compensation dropped from 24% in 2021 to 16% in 2022. The gap was slightly larger for all physicians in 2022, with men earning about 19% more than women, and larger again among specialists at 27%, but both of those figures are lower than in recent years, Medscape said.

Satisfaction with their compensation, however, was not high for internists: Only 43% feel that they are fairly paid, coming in above only ophthalmology (42%) and infectious diseases (35%) and well below psychiatry (68%) at the top of the list, the Medscape data show. In the 2022 report, 49% of internists said that they had been fairly paid.

In another source of potential dissatisfaction, internist respondents reported spending an average of 17.9 hours each week on paperwork and administration, just below the survey leaders, physical medicine and rehabilitation (18.5 hours) and nephrology (18.1 hours) and well above anesthesiology, which was the lowest of the 29 specialties at 9.0 hours, and the 2022 average of 15.5 hours for all physicians, Medscape said. A small bright spot comes in the form of a decline from the internists’ time of 18.7 hours per week in 2021.

When asked if they would choose medicine again, 72% of internist respondents and 73% of all physicians said yes, with emergency medicine (65%) and dermatology (86%) representing the two extremes. A question about specialty choice showed internists to be the least likely of the 29 included specialties to follow the same path, with 61% (down from 63% in 2022) approving their initial selection, versus 97% for plastic surgeons, Medscape reported.

Commenters among the survey respondents were not identified by specialty, but dissatisfaction on many fronts was a definite theme:

• “Our costs go up, and our reimbursement does not.”
• “Our practice was acquired by venture capital firms; they slashed costs.”
• “My productivity bonus should have come to $45,000. Instead I was paid only $15,000. Yet cardiologists and administrators who were working from home part of the year received their full bonus.”
• “I will no longer practice cookbook mediocrity.”

Medical school graduates around the US took to social media after last week's Match Day to share their joy ― or explore their options if they did not match.

Take this post March 19 on Twitter: “I went unmatched this year; looking for research position at any institute for internal medicine.”

Most of the fourth-year medical students this news organization has followed in the run-up to Match Day found success, including an international medical graduate who matched into his chosen specialty after multiple disappointments.

“I’ve waited for this email for 8 years,” Sahil Bawa, MD, posted on Twitter on March 13. A few days later, when he learned about his residency position, he posted: “I’m beyond grateful. Will be moving to Alabama soon #familymedicine.”

Dr. Bawa, who matched into UAB Medicine Selma (Ala.), graduated from medical school in India in 2014. He said in an interview that he has visited the United States periodically since then to pass medical tests, obtain letters of recommendation, and participate in research.

Over the years he watched his Indian colleagues give up on becoming American doctors, find alternative careers, or resolve to practice in their native country. But he held onto the few success stories he saw on social media. “There were always one to two every year. It kept me going. If they can do it, I can do it.”

International medical graduates (IMGs) like Dr. Bawa applied in record numbers to Match2023, according to the National Resident Matching Program (NRMP), which announced the results on March 13 of its main residency match and the Supplemental Offer and Acceptance Program (SOAP) for unfilled positions or unmatched applicants.

Overall, 48,156 total applicants registered for the match, which was driven by the increase of non-U.S. IMG applicants and U.S. DO seniors over the past year, NRMP stated in its release. U.S. MD seniors had a match rate of nearly 94%, and U.S. DO seniors, nearly 92%. U.S. IMGs had a match rate of nearly 68%, an “all-time high,” and non-U.S. IMGs, nearly 60%, NRMP stated.

Three specialties that filled all of their 30 or more available positions were orthopedic surgery, plastic surgery (integrated), radiology – diagnostic, and thoracic surgery. Specialties with 30 or more positions that filled with the highest percentage of U.S. MD and DO seniors were plastic surgery (integrated), internal medicine-pediatrics, ob.gyn., and orthopedic surgery.

The number of available primary care positions increased slightly, NRMP reported. Considering “a serious and growing shortage of primary care physicians across the U.S.,” there were 571 more primary care positions than 2022. That’s an increase of about 3% over last year and 17% over the past 5 years. Primary care positions filled at a rate of 94%, which remained steady from 2022.

A version of this article originally appeared on Medscape.com.

Medical school graduates around the US took to social media after last week's Match Day to share their joy ― or explore their options if they did not match.

Take this post March 19 on Twitter: “I went unmatched this year; looking for research position at any institute for internal medicine.”

Most of the fourth-year medical students this news organization has followed in the run-up to Match Day found success, including an international medical graduate who matched into his chosen specialty after multiple disappointments.

“I’ve waited for this email for 8 years,” Sahil Bawa, MD, posted on Twitter on March 13. A few days later, when he learned about his residency position, he posted: “I’m beyond grateful. Will be moving to Alabama soon #familymedicine.”

Dr. Bawa, who matched into UAB Medicine Selma (Ala.), graduated from medical school in India in 2014. He said in an interview that he has visited the United States periodically since then to pass medical tests, obtain letters of recommendation, and participate in research.

Over the years he watched his Indian colleagues give up on becoming American doctors, find alternative careers, or resolve to practice in their native country. But he held onto the few success stories he saw on social media. “There were always one to two every year. It kept me going. If they can do it, I can do it.”

International medical graduates (IMGs) like Dr. Bawa applied in record numbers to Match2023, according to the National Resident Matching Program (NRMP), which announced the results on March 13 of its main residency match and the Supplemental Offer and Acceptance Program (SOAP) for unfilled positions or unmatched applicants.

Overall, 48,156 total applicants registered for the match, which was driven by the increase of non-U.S. IMG applicants and U.S. DO seniors over the past year, NRMP stated in its release. U.S. MD seniors had a match rate of nearly 94%, and U.S. DO seniors, nearly 92%. U.S. IMGs had a match rate of nearly 68%, an “all-time high,” and non-U.S. IMGs, nearly 60%, NRMP stated.

Three specialties that filled all of their 30 or more available positions were orthopedic surgery, plastic surgery (integrated), radiology – diagnostic, and thoracic surgery. Specialties with 30 or more positions that filled with the highest percentage of U.S. MD and DO seniors were plastic surgery (integrated), internal medicine-pediatrics, ob.gyn., and orthopedic surgery.

The number of available primary care positions increased slightly, NRMP reported. Considering “a serious and growing shortage of primary care physicians across the U.S.,” there were 571 more primary care positions than 2022. That’s an increase of about 3% over last year and 17% over the past 5 years. Primary care positions filled at a rate of 94%, which remained steady from 2022.

A version of this article originally appeared on Medscape.com.

Medical school graduates around the US took to social media after last week's Match Day to share their joy ― or explore their options if they did not match.

Take this post March 19 on Twitter: “I went unmatched this year; looking for research position at any institute for internal medicine.”

Most of the fourth-year medical students this news organization has followed in the run-up to Match Day found success, including an international medical graduate who matched into his chosen specialty after multiple disappointments.

“I’ve waited for this email for 8 years,” Sahil Bawa, MD, posted on Twitter on March 13. A few days later, when he learned about his residency position, he posted: “I’m beyond grateful. Will be moving to Alabama soon #familymedicine.”

Dr. Bawa, who matched into UAB Medicine Selma (Ala.), graduated from medical school in India in 2014. He said in an interview that he has visited the United States periodically since then to pass medical tests, obtain letters of recommendation, and participate in research.

Over the years he watched his Indian colleagues give up on becoming American doctors, find alternative careers, or resolve to practice in their native country. But he held onto the few success stories he saw on social media. “There were always one to two every year. It kept me going. If they can do it, I can do it.”

International medical graduates (IMGs) like Dr. Bawa applied in record numbers to Match2023, according to the National Resident Matching Program (NRMP), which announced the results on March 13 of its main residency match and the Supplemental Offer and Acceptance Program (SOAP) for unfilled positions or unmatched applicants.

Overall, 48,156 total applicants registered for the match, which was driven by the increase of non-U.S. IMG applicants and U.S. DO seniors over the past year, NRMP stated in its release. U.S. MD seniors had a match rate of nearly 94%, and U.S. DO seniors, nearly 92%. U.S. IMGs had a match rate of nearly 68%, an “all-time high,” and non-U.S. IMGs, nearly 60%, NRMP stated.

Three specialties that filled all of their 30 or more available positions were orthopedic surgery, plastic surgery (integrated), radiology – diagnostic, and thoracic surgery. Specialties with 30 or more positions that filled with the highest percentage of U.S. MD and DO seniors were plastic surgery (integrated), internal medicine-pediatrics, ob.gyn., and orthopedic surgery.

The number of available primary care positions increased slightly, NRMP reported. Considering “a serious and growing shortage of primary care physicians across the U.S.,” there were 571 more primary care positions than 2022. That’s an increase of about 3% over last year and 17% over the past 5 years. Primary care positions filled at a rate of 94%, which remained steady from 2022.

A version of this article originally appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hi. I’m Art Caplan. I’m at the Division of Medical Ethics at New York University’s Grossman School of Medicine, where I’m the director.

It’s flu season, yet again. For many parts of the country, we’re already in the thick of it, and for other places, we’re going to have flu outbreaks continuing and intensifying. I’ve long believed that every health care institution – nursing homes, hospitals, clinics, home care, hospice – should require flu shots for all doctors and all nurses because it is the easiest, cheapest, and most ethical way to protect the workforce, who you need to be in there when flu outbreaks take place, and to protect patients against getting the flu when they come into hospital settings and get exposed to health care workers who may have the flu already but don’t know it.

In a recent poll, I was happy to see that the majority of physicians surveyed agreed with me: 65% said they supported mandatory flu vaccination in hospitals and only 23% said they did not. I think flu vaccination is something that has already been shown to be useful and important, not only in stopping people from getting the flu but also in making sure that they don’t get as sick when they get the flu.

Just like COVID-19 vaccination, it doesn’t always prevent somebody from getting infected, but if you get it, it keeps you from winding up sick at home, or worse – from dying and winding up in the morgue. Flu kills many, many people every year. We don’t want that to happen. A flu vaccine will really help prevent deaths, help prevent the number of symptoms that somebody gets, and will get people back to work. The benefits are pretty clear.

Does the flu vaccine work equally well every year? It does not. Some years, the strains that are picked for the vaccine don’t match the ones that circulate, and we don’t get as much protection as we hoped for. I think the safety side is so strong that it’s worth making the investment and the effort to promote mandatory flu vaccination.

Can you opt out on religious grounds? Well, some hospitals permit that at New York University. You have to go before a committee and make a case that your exemption on religious grounds is based on an authentic set of beliefs that are deeply held, and not just something you thought up the day before flu vaccine requirements went into effect.

There may be room for some exemptions – obviously, for health reasons. If people think that the flu vaccine is dangerous to them and can get a physician to agree and sign off that they are not appropriate to vaccinate, okay.

On the other hand, if you’re working with an especially vulnerable population – newborns, people who are immunosuppressed – then I think you’ve got to be vaccinated and you shouldn’t be working around people who are at huge risk of getting the flu if you refuse to be vaccinated or, for that matter, can’t be vaccinated.

Would I extend these mandates? Yes, I would. I’d extend them to COVID-19 vaccination and to measles vaccination. I think physicians and nurses should be good role models. They should get vaccinated. We know that the best available evidence says that vaccination for infectious disease is safe. It is really the best thing we can do to combat a variety of diseases such as the flu and COVID-19.

It seems to me that, in addition, the data that are out there in terms of risks from flu and COVID-19 – deaths in places like nursing homes – are overwhelming about the importance of trying to get staff vaccinated so they don’t bring flu into an institutionalized population. This is similar for prison health and many other settings where people are kept close together and staff may move from place to place, rotating from institution to institution, spreading infectious disease.

I’m going to go with the poll. Let’s keep pushing for health care workers to do the right thing and to be good role models. Let’s get everybody a flu vaccination. Let’s extend it to a COVID-19 vaccination and its boosters.

Let’s try to show the nation that health care is going to be guided by good science, a duty to one’s own health, and a duty to one’s patients. It shouldn’t be political. It should be based on what works best for the interests of health care providers and those they care for.

I’m Art Caplan at the New York University Grossman School of Medicine. Thanks for watching.
 

Dr. Caplan has disclosed the following relevant financial relationships: Served as a director, officer, partner, employee, advisor, consultant, or trustee for Johnson & Johnson’s Panel for Compassionate Drug Use (unpaid position). Serves as a contributing author and advisor for Medscape. A version of this article originally appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hi. I’m Art Caplan. I’m at the Division of Medical Ethics at New York University’s Grossman School of Medicine, where I’m the director.

It’s flu season, yet again. For many parts of the country, we’re already in the thick of it, and for other places, we’re going to have flu outbreaks continuing and intensifying. I’ve long believed that every health care institution – nursing homes, hospitals, clinics, home care, hospice – should require flu shots for all doctors and all nurses because it is the easiest, cheapest, and most ethical way to protect the workforce, who you need to be in there when flu outbreaks take place, and to protect patients against getting the flu when they come into hospital settings and get exposed to health care workers who may have the flu already but don’t know it.

In a recent poll, I was happy to see that the majority of physicians surveyed agreed with me: 65% said they supported mandatory flu vaccination in hospitals and only 23% said they did not. I think flu vaccination is something that has already been shown to be useful and important, not only in stopping people from getting the flu but also in making sure that they don’t get as sick when they get the flu.

Just like COVID-19 vaccination, it doesn’t always prevent somebody from getting infected, but if you get it, it keeps you from winding up sick at home, or worse – from dying and winding up in the morgue. Flu kills many, many people every year. We don’t want that to happen. A flu vaccine will really help prevent deaths, help prevent the number of symptoms that somebody gets, and will get people back to work. The benefits are pretty clear.

Does the flu vaccine work equally well every year? It does not. Some years, the strains that are picked for the vaccine don’t match the ones that circulate, and we don’t get as much protection as we hoped for. I think the safety side is so strong that it’s worth making the investment and the effort to promote mandatory flu vaccination.

Can you opt out on religious grounds? Well, some hospitals permit that at New York University. You have to go before a committee and make a case that your exemption on religious grounds is based on an authentic set of beliefs that are deeply held, and not just something you thought up the day before flu vaccine requirements went into effect.

There may be room for some exemptions – obviously, for health reasons. If people think that the flu vaccine is dangerous to them and can get a physician to agree and sign off that they are not appropriate to vaccinate, okay.

On the other hand, if you’re working with an especially vulnerable population – newborns, people who are immunosuppressed – then I think you’ve got to be vaccinated and you shouldn’t be working around people who are at huge risk of getting the flu if you refuse to be vaccinated or, for that matter, can’t be vaccinated.

Would I extend these mandates? Yes, I would. I’d extend them to COVID-19 vaccination and to measles vaccination. I think physicians and nurses should be good role models. They should get vaccinated. We know that the best available evidence says that vaccination for infectious disease is safe. It is really the best thing we can do to combat a variety of diseases such as the flu and COVID-19.

It seems to me that, in addition, the data that are out there in terms of risks from flu and COVID-19 – deaths in places like nursing homes – are overwhelming about the importance of trying to get staff vaccinated so they don’t bring flu into an institutionalized population. This is similar for prison health and many other settings where people are kept close together and staff may move from place to place, rotating from institution to institution, spreading infectious disease.

I’m going to go with the poll. Let’s keep pushing for health care workers to do the right thing and to be good role models. Let’s get everybody a flu vaccination. Let’s extend it to a COVID-19 vaccination and its boosters.

Let’s try to show the nation that health care is going to be guided by good science, a duty to one’s own health, and a duty to one’s patients. It shouldn’t be political. It should be based on what works best for the interests of health care providers and those they care for.

I’m Art Caplan at the New York University Grossman School of Medicine. Thanks for watching.
 

Dr. Caplan has disclosed the following relevant financial relationships: Served as a director, officer, partner, employee, advisor, consultant, or trustee for Johnson & Johnson’s Panel for Compassionate Drug Use (unpaid position). Serves as a contributing author and advisor for Medscape. A version of this article originally appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hi. I’m Art Caplan. I’m at the Division of Medical Ethics at New York University’s Grossman School of Medicine, where I’m the director.

It’s flu season, yet again. For many parts of the country, we’re already in the thick of it, and for other places, we’re going to have flu outbreaks continuing and intensifying. I’ve long believed that every health care institution – nursing homes, hospitals, clinics, home care, hospice – should require flu shots for all doctors and all nurses because it is the easiest, cheapest, and most ethical way to protect the workforce, who you need to be in there when flu outbreaks take place, and to protect patients against getting the flu when they come into hospital settings and get exposed to health care workers who may have the flu already but don’t know it.

In a recent poll, I was happy to see that the majority of physicians surveyed agreed with me: 65% said they supported mandatory flu vaccination in hospitals and only 23% said they did not. I think flu vaccination is something that has already been shown to be useful and important, not only in stopping people from getting the flu but also in making sure that they don’t get as sick when they get the flu.

Just like COVID-19 vaccination, it doesn’t always prevent somebody from getting infected, but if you get it, it keeps you from winding up sick at home, or worse – from dying and winding up in the morgue. Flu kills many, many people every year. We don’t want that to happen. A flu vaccine will really help prevent deaths, help prevent the number of symptoms that somebody gets, and will get people back to work. The benefits are pretty clear.

Does the flu vaccine work equally well every year? It does not. Some years, the strains that are picked for the vaccine don’t match the ones that circulate, and we don’t get as much protection as we hoped for. I think the safety side is so strong that it’s worth making the investment and the effort to promote mandatory flu vaccination.

Can you opt out on religious grounds? Well, some hospitals permit that at New York University. You have to go before a committee and make a case that your exemption on religious grounds is based on an authentic set of beliefs that are deeply held, and not just something you thought up the day before flu vaccine requirements went into effect.

There may be room for some exemptions – obviously, for health reasons. If people think that the flu vaccine is dangerous to them and can get a physician to agree and sign off that they are not appropriate to vaccinate, okay.

On the other hand, if you’re working with an especially vulnerable population – newborns, people who are immunosuppressed – then I think you’ve got to be vaccinated and you shouldn’t be working around people who are at huge risk of getting the flu if you refuse to be vaccinated or, for that matter, can’t be vaccinated.

Would I extend these mandates? Yes, I would. I’d extend them to COVID-19 vaccination and to measles vaccination. I think physicians and nurses should be good role models. They should get vaccinated. We know that the best available evidence says that vaccination for infectious disease is safe. It is really the best thing we can do to combat a variety of diseases such as the flu and COVID-19.

It seems to me that, in addition, the data that are out there in terms of risks from flu and COVID-19 – deaths in places like nursing homes – are overwhelming about the importance of trying to get staff vaccinated so they don’t bring flu into an institutionalized population. This is similar for prison health and many other settings where people are kept close together and staff may move from place to place, rotating from institution to institution, spreading infectious disease.

I’m going to go with the poll. Let’s keep pushing for health care workers to do the right thing and to be good role models. Let’s get everybody a flu vaccination. Let’s extend it to a COVID-19 vaccination and its boosters.

Let’s try to show the nation that health care is going to be guided by good science, a duty to one’s own health, and a duty to one’s patients. It shouldn’t be political. It should be based on what works best for the interests of health care providers and those they care for.

I’m Art Caplan at the New York University Grossman School of Medicine. Thanks for watching.
 

Dr. Caplan has disclosed the following relevant financial relationships: Served as a director, officer, partner, employee, advisor, consultant, or trustee for Johnson & Johnson’s Panel for Compassionate Drug Use (unpaid position). Serves as a contributing author and advisor for Medscape. A version of this article originally appeared on Medscape.com.

There are times when, as health care providers dealing with the stress of the profession, many doctors feel that tapping into a higher purpose – or even praying – might be a helpful way to cope.

Whether you’re spiritual, religious – or neither – the Medscape Physician Lifestyle & Happiness Report 2023 asked if you have a religious or spiritual belief. Turns out 69% of physicians shared that they have a spiritual or religious practice.
 

Tapping into the universe

Nick Shamie, MD, an orthopedic surgeon specializing in spine surgery at University of California, Los Angeles, says the constant challenges of making life-and-death decisions offer an opportunity to check in with a higher power.

“Sometimes when I’m going into a tough surgery or have a tough situation, I pause and think about how this isn’t about me and the situation I’m in,” says Dr. Shamie, whose family is Muslim. “It’s about the whole universe. I feel like someone, or some being, is looking over my shoulders, and if my intentions are good, I’ll be fine. The person I’m going to take care of will be fine. That’s how I use my faith.”

Having a belief in something greater than herself also fuels Jill Carnahan, MD, a family medicine physician and functional medicine expert in Boulder, Colo.

“This is key for me as a physician,” says Dr. Carnahan, author of “Unexpected: Finding Resilience Through Functional Medicine, Science, and Faith.” “I urge physicians to think about their source of strength. That’s not necessarily even religious. It could be meditation or being in nature.”

Dr. Carnahan likes to share with patients that there are lessons that can come from being ill – whether treating ill patients or struggling with one’s own illness.

“I like to teach this idea of illness as a teacher,” says Dr. Carnahan, who has Crohn’s disease and is a cancer survivor. “This is tough, but what you’re saying here is that there is meaning or purpose to this experience. It brings awareness to your life that may not have been there before.”

Often illness is our body’s way of getting our attention that our life, relationships, or work needs adjustment. Illness can be a reminder to make changes. “For example, a diagnosis of autoimmunity may be a reminder to take better care of ourselves, or a diagnosis of cancer may cause us to get out of an unhealthy relationship or change jobs to do something more fulfilling, as we have increased awareness of the brevity of life.”

When patients are affected by illness, pain, reduced functionality, and even imminent death, understanding the experience is difficult, and finding any purpose in it may seem impossible. Still, studies show that those who find meaning in the experience cope better with their illness.

Finding that meaning may be a strong driver of survival and may be positively related to hope, belief, and happiness.
 

Spirituality supports patients

Even if you’re not religious yourself, it can be helpful to support a patient who opts to pray before an arduous procedure, says Sharyar Baradaran, DDS, a periodontist specializing in gum surgery in Beverly Hills, Calif.

“I’ve had patients who go into meditation mode, or they say a prayer before I start surgery,” he says. “I take that opportunity to connect. In that instance, we hold hands. I want them to know that I understand what they’re going through and how they’re trying to find the courage to undergo surgery.”

When Dr. Shamie was a child, his father described religion as embodying the basic tenet of being good to others. “I’ve taken that to heart,” he says. “All religions, all faiths have that as a central premise.”

These doctors agree that when you take the time to stop and hold a patient’s hand, bow your head during their prayer, or acknowledge or speak for a few moments about their faith, especially during a health crisis, surgery, or challenging diagnosis, patients appreciate it and develop an even deeper connection with you.

Dr. Baradaran believes spirituality can play an important role in how health care providers care for patients. Though it may not be widely discussed or reported, and physicians may find little time and space to address patients’ spiritual needs, there is growing sensitivity regarding spirituality in health care. One study found that while physicians understand its importance, nurses are more apt to integrate spirituality into practice.

“No matter the religion, if you’re spiritual, it means you’re listening and being respectful,” says Dr. Baradaran, who is Jewish. “There are times that I’m not familiar with the prayers my patients are saying, but I always take them in, absorb them, and respect them. This allows me to have a deeper connection with them, which is wonderful.”

Dr. Shamie says that he turns to his faith in good times as well as tough ones.

“I see a lot of people who are dealing with very difficult situations, and it’s not their choice to be in this position,” he says. “At those moments, I think to myself how fortunate I am that I’m not experiencing what this individual or family is going through. I do thank God at that time. I appreciate the life I have, and when I witness hardships, it resets my appreciation.”

For Dr. Carnahan, faith is about becoming comfortable with the inevitable uncertainty of life. It’s also about finding ways to tap into the day’s stresses.

“As physicians, we’re workaholics, and one in four of us are burnt out,” she says. “One solution that really works is to step back from the day-to-day grind and find time to pray or meditate or be in nature.”

There are times when a tragedy occurs, and despite your most intense efforts, a patient may die. Those experiences can be crushing to a physician. However, to guide you through the loss of a patient or the daily juggles of managing your practice, Dr. Carnahan suggests finding time every morning to focus on the day ahead and how you connect with the universe.

“I take 15 minutes in the morning and think about how I will bring love to the world,” she says. “If you look for the miracles and the good and the unexpected, that gratitude shift allows your mind to be transformed by what’s happening. It’s often in those moments that you’ll realize again why you went into medicine in the first place.”
 

Doctors without faith

So, what does this mean if you’re among the 25% of physicians in the Medscape report who do not have a religious or spiritual leaning and aren’t apt to be spiritually minded when it comes to your patients? An article on KevinMD.com points out that atheist physicians are often in the closet about their atheism because they usually bow their heads or keep a respectful silence when a patient or their family offers a prayer request before surgery or a prayer of thanks after a procedure.

The retired atheist physician who wrote the piece reminds us that nonreligious doctors are good people with a high moral compass who may not believe in an afterlife. However, that means they try to make their patients’ quality of life the best they can.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

There are times when, as health care providers dealing with the stress of the profession, many doctors feel that tapping into a higher purpose – or even praying – might be a helpful way to cope.

Whether you’re spiritual, religious – or neither – the Medscape Physician Lifestyle & Happiness Report 2023 asked if you have a religious or spiritual belief. Turns out 69% of physicians shared that they have a spiritual or religious practice.
 

Tapping into the universe

Nick Shamie, MD, an orthopedic surgeon specializing in spine surgery at University of California, Los Angeles, says the constant challenges of making life-and-death decisions offer an opportunity to check in with a higher power.

“Sometimes when I’m going into a tough surgery or have a tough situation, I pause and think about how this isn’t about me and the situation I’m in,” says Dr. Shamie, whose family is Muslim. “It’s about the whole universe. I feel like someone, or some being, is looking over my shoulders, and if my intentions are good, I’ll be fine. The person I’m going to take care of will be fine. That’s how I use my faith.”

Having a belief in something greater than herself also fuels Jill Carnahan, MD, a family medicine physician and functional medicine expert in Boulder, Colo.

“This is key for me as a physician,” says Dr. Carnahan, author of “Unexpected: Finding Resilience Through Functional Medicine, Science, and Faith.” “I urge physicians to think about their source of strength. That’s not necessarily even religious. It could be meditation or being in nature.”

Dr. Carnahan likes to share with patients that there are lessons that can come from being ill – whether treating ill patients or struggling with one’s own illness.

“I like to teach this idea of illness as a teacher,” says Dr. Carnahan, who has Crohn’s disease and is a cancer survivor. “This is tough, but what you’re saying here is that there is meaning or purpose to this experience. It brings awareness to your life that may not have been there before.”

Often illness is our body’s way of getting our attention that our life, relationships, or work needs adjustment. Illness can be a reminder to make changes. “For example, a diagnosis of autoimmunity may be a reminder to take better care of ourselves, or a diagnosis of cancer may cause us to get out of an unhealthy relationship or change jobs to do something more fulfilling, as we have increased awareness of the brevity of life.”

When patients are affected by illness, pain, reduced functionality, and even imminent death, understanding the experience is difficult, and finding any purpose in it may seem impossible. Still, studies show that those who find meaning in the experience cope better with their illness.

Finding that meaning may be a strong driver of survival and may be positively related to hope, belief, and happiness.
 

Spirituality supports patients

Even if you’re not religious yourself, it can be helpful to support a patient who opts to pray before an arduous procedure, says Sharyar Baradaran, DDS, a periodontist specializing in gum surgery in Beverly Hills, Calif.

“I’ve had patients who go into meditation mode, or they say a prayer before I start surgery,” he says. “I take that opportunity to connect. In that instance, we hold hands. I want them to know that I understand what they’re going through and how they’re trying to find the courage to undergo surgery.”

When Dr. Shamie was a child, his father described religion as embodying the basic tenet of being good to others. “I’ve taken that to heart,” he says. “All religions, all faiths have that as a central premise.”

These doctors agree that when you take the time to stop and hold a patient’s hand, bow your head during their prayer, or acknowledge or speak for a few moments about their faith, especially during a health crisis, surgery, or challenging diagnosis, patients appreciate it and develop an even deeper connection with you.

Dr. Baradaran believes spirituality can play an important role in how health care providers care for patients. Though it may not be widely discussed or reported, and physicians may find little time and space to address patients’ spiritual needs, there is growing sensitivity regarding spirituality in health care. One study found that while physicians understand its importance, nurses are more apt to integrate spirituality into practice.

“No matter the religion, if you’re spiritual, it means you’re listening and being respectful,” says Dr. Baradaran, who is Jewish. “There are times that I’m not familiar with the prayers my patients are saying, but I always take them in, absorb them, and respect them. This allows me to have a deeper connection with them, which is wonderful.”

Dr. Shamie says that he turns to his faith in good times as well as tough ones.

“I see a lot of people who are dealing with very difficult situations, and it’s not their choice to be in this position,” he says. “At those moments, I think to myself how fortunate I am that I’m not experiencing what this individual or family is going through. I do thank God at that time. I appreciate the life I have, and when I witness hardships, it resets my appreciation.”

For Dr. Carnahan, faith is about becoming comfortable with the inevitable uncertainty of life. It’s also about finding ways to tap into the day’s stresses.

“As physicians, we’re workaholics, and one in four of us are burnt out,” she says. “One solution that really works is to step back from the day-to-day grind and find time to pray or meditate or be in nature.”

There are times when a tragedy occurs, and despite your most intense efforts, a patient may die. Those experiences can be crushing to a physician. However, to guide you through the loss of a patient or the daily juggles of managing your practice, Dr. Carnahan suggests finding time every morning to focus on the day ahead and how you connect with the universe.

“I take 15 minutes in the morning and think about how I will bring love to the world,” she says. “If you look for the miracles and the good and the unexpected, that gratitude shift allows your mind to be transformed by what’s happening. It’s often in those moments that you’ll realize again why you went into medicine in the first place.”
 

Doctors without faith

So, what does this mean if you’re among the 25% of physicians in the Medscape report who do not have a religious or spiritual leaning and aren’t apt to be spiritually minded when it comes to your patients? An article on KevinMD.com points out that atheist physicians are often in the closet about their atheism because they usually bow their heads or keep a respectful silence when a patient or their family offers a prayer request before surgery or a prayer of thanks after a procedure.

The retired atheist physician who wrote the piece reminds us that nonreligious doctors are good people with a high moral compass who may not believe in an afterlife. However, that means they try to make their patients’ quality of life the best they can.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

There are times when, as health care providers dealing with the stress of the profession, many doctors feel that tapping into a higher purpose – or even praying – might be a helpful way to cope.

Whether you’re spiritual, religious – or neither – the Medscape Physician Lifestyle & Happiness Report 2023 asked if you have a religious or spiritual belief. Turns out 69% of physicians shared that they have a spiritual or religious practice.
 

Tapping into the universe

Nick Shamie, MD, an orthopedic surgeon specializing in spine surgery at University of California, Los Angeles, says the constant challenges of making life-and-death decisions offer an opportunity to check in with a higher power.

“Sometimes when I’m going into a tough surgery or have a tough situation, I pause and think about how this isn’t about me and the situation I’m in,” says Dr. Shamie, whose family is Muslim. “It’s about the whole universe. I feel like someone, or some being, is looking over my shoulders, and if my intentions are good, I’ll be fine. The person I’m going to take care of will be fine. That’s how I use my faith.”

Having a belief in something greater than herself also fuels Jill Carnahan, MD, a family medicine physician and functional medicine expert in Boulder, Colo.

“This is key for me as a physician,” says Dr. Carnahan, author of “Unexpected: Finding Resilience Through Functional Medicine, Science, and Faith.” “I urge physicians to think about their source of strength. That’s not necessarily even religious. It could be meditation or being in nature.”

Dr. Carnahan likes to share with patients that there are lessons that can come from being ill – whether treating ill patients or struggling with one’s own illness.

“I like to teach this idea of illness as a teacher,” says Dr. Carnahan, who has Crohn’s disease and is a cancer survivor. “This is tough, but what you’re saying here is that there is meaning or purpose to this experience. It brings awareness to your life that may not have been there before.”

Often illness is our body’s way of getting our attention that our life, relationships, or work needs adjustment. Illness can be a reminder to make changes. “For example, a diagnosis of autoimmunity may be a reminder to take better care of ourselves, or a diagnosis of cancer may cause us to get out of an unhealthy relationship or change jobs to do something more fulfilling, as we have increased awareness of the brevity of life.”

When patients are affected by illness, pain, reduced functionality, and even imminent death, understanding the experience is difficult, and finding any purpose in it may seem impossible. Still, studies show that those who find meaning in the experience cope better with their illness.

Finding that meaning may be a strong driver of survival and may be positively related to hope, belief, and happiness.
 

Spirituality supports patients

Even if you’re not religious yourself, it can be helpful to support a patient who opts to pray before an arduous procedure, says Sharyar Baradaran, DDS, a periodontist specializing in gum surgery in Beverly Hills, Calif.

“I’ve had patients who go into meditation mode, or they say a prayer before I start surgery,” he says. “I take that opportunity to connect. In that instance, we hold hands. I want them to know that I understand what they’re going through and how they’re trying to find the courage to undergo surgery.”

When Dr. Shamie was a child, his father described religion as embodying the basic tenet of being good to others. “I’ve taken that to heart,” he says. “All religions, all faiths have that as a central premise.”

These doctors agree that when you take the time to stop and hold a patient’s hand, bow your head during their prayer, or acknowledge or speak for a few moments about their faith, especially during a health crisis, surgery, or challenging diagnosis, patients appreciate it and develop an even deeper connection with you.

Dr. Baradaran believes spirituality can play an important role in how health care providers care for patients. Though it may not be widely discussed or reported, and physicians may find little time and space to address patients’ spiritual needs, there is growing sensitivity regarding spirituality in health care. One study found that while physicians understand its importance, nurses are more apt to integrate spirituality into practice.

“No matter the religion, if you’re spiritual, it means you’re listening and being respectful,” says Dr. Baradaran, who is Jewish. “There are times that I’m not familiar with the prayers my patients are saying, but I always take them in, absorb them, and respect them. This allows me to have a deeper connection with them, which is wonderful.”

Dr. Shamie says that he turns to his faith in good times as well as tough ones.

“I see a lot of people who are dealing with very difficult situations, and it’s not their choice to be in this position,” he says. “At those moments, I think to myself how fortunate I am that I’m not experiencing what this individual or family is going through. I do thank God at that time. I appreciate the life I have, and when I witness hardships, it resets my appreciation.”

For Dr. Carnahan, faith is about becoming comfortable with the inevitable uncertainty of life. It’s also about finding ways to tap into the day’s stresses.

“As physicians, we’re workaholics, and one in four of us are burnt out,” she says. “One solution that really works is to step back from the day-to-day grind and find time to pray or meditate or be in nature.”

There are times when a tragedy occurs, and despite your most intense efforts, a patient may die. Those experiences can be crushing to a physician. However, to guide you through the loss of a patient or the daily juggles of managing your practice, Dr. Carnahan suggests finding time every morning to focus on the day ahead and how you connect with the universe.

“I take 15 minutes in the morning and think about how I will bring love to the world,” she says. “If you look for the miracles and the good and the unexpected, that gratitude shift allows your mind to be transformed by what’s happening. It’s often in those moments that you’ll realize again why you went into medicine in the first place.”
 

Doctors without faith

So, what does this mean if you’re among the 25% of physicians in the Medscape report who do not have a religious or spiritual leaning and aren’t apt to be spiritually minded when it comes to your patients? An article on KevinMD.com points out that atheist physicians are often in the closet about their atheism because they usually bow their heads or keep a respectful silence when a patient or their family offers a prayer request before surgery or a prayer of thanks after a procedure.

The retired atheist physician who wrote the piece reminds us that nonreligious doctors are good people with a high moral compass who may not believe in an afterlife. However, that means they try to make their patients’ quality of life the best they can.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.