In a medical school as historic and intellectually demanding as Penn’s, it’s no surprise that the students occasionally seek some kind of alternative activity. Some of these activities continue to be based on their usual interests and concerns. The annual Spoof, combining music and comedy, comes to mind. In the course of organizing and performing, the students can let off steam and have some fun with what they are learning –- as well as with those who are teaching them or overseeing them. It’s not uncommon for deans and professors to be satirized –- in a good-natured way, of course! There is also the annual student-faculty basketball game, which provides the male students at least with an opportunity to show their professors –- and Ralph Muller, CEO of the University of Pennsylvania Health System, a regular participant –- who rules on the court.
William Swiggard, PhD, MD, RES ’01, now an infectious diseases specialist at Cooley Dickinson Hospital, entertained students in 1998 with “Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Interns.” (With apologies to Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson.)
Then there is the Penn Pearls Teaching Awards Ceremony, a different sort of endeavor. Organized by the medical students with some help from the Office of Student Affairs, it is an occasion for recognizing some exceptional clinical teachers. Spirits are often high, but the advice given by the recipients is often heartfelt and useful. As the program for this week’s ceremony noted: “Today’s recipients are outstanding teachers, mentors, and friends whose influence will undoubtedly continue to shape our careers.”
Penn’s medical students encounter great teaching in the classroom, but those selected to receive Penn Pearls have served as mentors outside the classroom. They teach through explicit instruction and counsel or through example. They are particularly useful when imparting “the hidden curriculum” –- those things students don’t learn from books, lectures, and videos but that are valuable nonetheless.
I first became aware of Penn Pearls in 1998, when I assigned my assistant editor to cover the event. We knew the dean would be attending, which gave the ceremony some automatic gravitas. That year was its eighth year of existence, and, as in the years to follow, the students had singled out both attending physicians and residents. (Fellows were added in more recent years.) In return, those being honored would offer “pearls of wisdom” to the students. The pearls, as might be expected, varied widely.
For example, there was Peter Argenta, MD, RES ’99, then a resident in obstetrics and gynecology and today a gynecologic oncologist at the University of Minnesota. “Don’t ever refuse a breath mint,” he said. But he also emphasized the importance of making time for family and friends, even within the students’ busy schedules. And he also noted that the best doctors are those who can read between the lines when caring for patients.
Lisa Forman, MD ’95, RES ’98, now at the University of Colorado in Denver, was honored at the same ceremony. She passed on a lesson that she said she had learned the hard way: “If a patient is itching, wear gloves!”
In more recent years, Roger Band, MD, assistant professor of emergency medicine, at Penn Medicine, advised the students to consider how you’d want physicians to treat your own family -– and to try to act that way in your own career. Along those same lines, Lauge Sokol-Hessner, MD ’07, RES ’10, a former resident who recently joined Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, advised the students to “be present” for your patient; don’t look at the clock; and “treat her as you’d treat your mother.”
Benjamin Chang, MD, associate professor of clinical surgery, one of this year’s recipients.
It’s clear that the award recipients are very appreciative of this kind of recognition from the medical students. A couple of years ago, Vera Fridman, MD, RES ’10, now at Mass General, said “there actually isn’t an award more meaningful” and called it one of the most gratifying experiences in her life. Noel Williams, MD, professor of clinical surgery, told the students “how important this award is to me.” It was, he said, his first award for teaching after 18 years at Penn Medicine.
Steven Larson, MD ’88, associate professor of emergency medicine, received a Penn Pearls award this year.
Receiving a Penn Pearls teaching award is often an indication of future success. Many of the house staff, fellows, and attending physicians who receive them go on to receive other teaching honors, not only from the Perelman School of Medicine and the University, but also from the other institutions where they have gone on to work. In many cases, the Penn Pearls are listed among their other honors in their CVs and biosketches. Among the school’s professors who have won both a Penn Pearls award and a Lindback Award for Distinguished Teaching, the University’s highest teaching honor, are Deborah Driscoll, MD, RES ’87, chair of the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology, and Kenneth Ginsburg, MD, professor of pediatrics, who has also won Faculty Teacher of the Year from the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia.
Although the Penn Pearls Awards program has been around officially for nearly 30 years, the medical students in our School have long recognized how important it is to have great teachers. The yearbooks of the past often had dedications or salutes to clinical teachers. In its edition of Scope, for example, the Class of 1954 included these items under the heading of “Informals.” The first two are:
1. Always remember that patients are people.
2. Consider the patient as a whole.
One of the medical school’s former instructors, the late Louis R. Dinon, MD ’49, a clinical professor of medicine, received the University’s Lindback Award for Distinguished Teaching in 1982. His clinical teaching was so appreciated that an award was later established in his honor. One Scope from the 1990s included a page listing of what were described as “Dinon’s Dictums.” Among them:
You don’t take a history from a patient; the patient gives you the history.
More is missed by not looking than by not knowing.
Doctors need both a headlight and a heartlight.
These “Informals” and “Dictums” are very much in the tradition of “pearls of wisdom.” All could very well be on a mental checklist that every physician carries in his or her head when dealing with a patient.