The art of conversation

Abstract

Like all medical students, I was taught to “take” a history. I memorised a litany, a standard set of questions—“where's the pain, when did it start, where does it go to, are there any diseases in the family?” The assumption was that I would play no real part in the process apart from eliciting information that was already there. Introducing In PracticeThe world of medicine invites physicians to believe that they can learn all they need from those already in that world. In my experience as a trauma surgeon, a general practitioner, and an academic, I have found this frame to be both reassuring and restrictive. Reassuring because it specifies the knowledge we require and shows where we can find it. Restrictive because it fails to acknowledge other forms of expertise and alternative ways of thinking that could enrich our own practice.1–4 Full-Text PDF Getting back in touchClinicians and patients are getting out of touch with one another. When I was a medical student, I spent hours with patients, examining them on the ward, taking blood, and assisting at operations. At first I felt clumsy, inept, and embarrassed at the prospect of physical contact, for touch is surrounded by social conventions and taboos that are difficult to break through. But gradually, through practice, I became more confident. Touching people stopped feeling strange. Ostensibly, the purpose of these examinations was to gather diagnostic information that I would relay to senior clinicians. Full-Text PDF