Saturday, July 1, 2017

MEDICINE & ART





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.



No comments:

Post a Comment