More than once in a
quiet moment (and in some not so quiet moments) I’ve found myself wondering how
I’ve managed to end up so far from where I started. What is the connection between medicine and art that has
allowed me to pursue both with dogged determination? After fourteen years of
preparation, I spent 10 years in private practice, twelve years focused
primarily on art while working part time in emergency medicine, and nine years
back in private practice, before leaving medicine completely for art. Thinking
about how I’ve divided my life between these two callings, I’m convinced they
must share a common bond of some sort that has competed for my attention,
powerful enough to evoke a major disruption in what was once a rather ordered
and fulfilling life.
Their differences are
easy to identify. Art is a
solitary endeavor. Most of my days are spent alone in the studio where I have
complete control over the pace and tenor of my work. I have the luxury of
designing each day to fit my mood and ambition. This is in
stark contrast to medicine where there is little to no control over the tone
and pace of days that are subject to the demands of the patient schedule and
the unpredictability of medical emergencies. My work in the studio is done in solitude. In the medical office and the Emergency
room, the “work” of the physician is more public, done in the presence of
others, often under quiet, but intense observation (the patient, patient’s
family, and often medical staff).
Another difference
relates to the focus and tone of the work. The physician’s work is primarily mental, evaluating the
patient’s symptoms, assessing their emotional status, and recommending a plan
of treatment. All of the effort is
directed externally, to the problem at hand. The primary focus is the patient. The artist’s work is basically in direct opposition. While there is a cerebral component to
the work – knowledge of basic tenants of composition, color, etc. – the artist’s
work is generated from within, in response to creative impulses that cannot
always be understood, or controlled.
His only responsibility is to himself and his work. Unlike the
physician, the artist’s work is entirely self-centered.
It was only after my
work in the Emergency Room that I appreciated still another significant
difference between the two professions.
The constant exposure to the pain, suffering, and fears of patients and
family, especially in an Emergency Room setting, requires the staff of
providers to become emotionally hardened to protect their psyche and allow them
to function amidst so much unpleasantness. It becomes necessary to close out the world, while still
maintaining a deep measure of compassion.
This is in stark contrast to the artist, who strives to remain open to
ideas, inspiration, and imagination as catalysts to his work.
So what do medicine and
art share? The artist and the
physician each work alone. The
artist labors in the studio, directed by subjective, creative forces arising
from within. Only she can decide
on the composition, the mood, and the intent of the work in progress. No one else can do that for her. Similarly, the physician is equally
alone in the work he must do.
Although it may be in a more public setting with patients, family, and
staff present, the real work is done alone, assessing the patient’s complaint,
initiating a treatment plan and counseling the patient. Although consultation
with colleagues is common, it remains an individual enterprise. I remember the words of Dr. Leonard
Lang, the chairman of the Department of Medicine during my residency. He would remind us, “You can’t practice
medicine by committee”. The same
can be said for creating art.
After struggling
through this narrative, am I any closer to finding the link between two
seemingly conflicting calls?
Perhaps I am. The first
half of my life was dominated by the reason and logic of science, and the
second half by intuition and imagination.
Thus I have had the good fortune to be able to exercise both sides of my
brain. But the real link that
enabled me to answer both calls was the opportunity for independence provided
by both professions. Although only
art allowed me to design my own days, both allowed me to design my own life.
