Health professionals often complain about software and IT. It doesn’t always do what we want it to do. It slows us down, makes us do extra work.
A common problem is lack of interoperability. Computer systems are not talking to each other, a bit like Microsoft and Apple many years ago. Patients have also noticed that important information is not always available, which leads to inconvenience, delays and sometimes more tests.
At the same time GPs are unhappy that the hospital doesn’t provide essential info, for example when a patient has passed away, and hospital staff complain that referral letters don’t contain important triage information. Etc etc.
This raises the question, how ‘interoperable’ are health professionals? Do we know how we can best facilitate transfers and improve clinical handovers? What information do our colleagues need and when? How often do we meet to sort out issues in a collegial way?
It’s good to see there are passionate people working on these issues – but they need help. Computer systems are a reflection of the silos we work in. First fix human interoperability and our IT systems will follow.
“G’day doc, I’m right off me tucker and crook azadog. Yesterday arvo me neighbour said it’s just the collywobbles but crikey, he’s mad as a cut snake so I thought I’d better find out what the doc has to say. I know youse are flat out but waddaya reckon, she’ll be right? I feel weak as a wet whistle. Not droppin off the perch yet am I? Probably just old age. Howyagoin anyway, settlinin all right? Gotta love the top end mate, heaps better than the big smoke.”
When I arrived in Australia – in Cooktown of all places – one of my biggest challenges was understanding the accent and the slang. I also struggled with basic expressions. I remember being invited ‘for tea’ one night – so after dinner I went over expecting a cup of tea or coffee only; to my surprise our host had prepared a delicious roast. On another occasion I was asked ‘to bring a plate’; I took a few plates and, just to be sure, some cups and cutlery too.
I thought the communication was problematic because I come from a non-English speaking country. It turned out that most immigrants struggle with language, communication and the often slightly different meaning of common expressions, not to mention the bureaucratic jargon. For example, as doctor Jennifer May wrote in the Medical Journal of Australia, a term such as ‘reciprocal recognition of qualifications’ has a different meaning in different jurisdictions.
The first six months were a crash course in ‘Strine’. The patients were wonderful and seemed to strangely feel sorry for the new overseas doctor in town. They taught me all the basics; some gave me Australian slang dictionaries and Indigenous Australians told me stories about their culture. Still, it took a few years before I could fully understand most conversations.
For most immigrants the challenges begin long before entry to Australia. The paperwork and background checks required by the Australian government and healthcare organisations – which can take one to two years to complete – are only a small part.
Even though the decision to emigrate is mostly a voluntary one, and it is a privilege to be welcomed to Australia, it doesn’t mean that there are no downsides. Emigrating doctors and their families have to give up their lives in the home country and say goodbye to loved-ones, familiar neighbourhoods, cultures, customs and careers.
It is not uncommon for overseas doctors and their family members to experience some adjustment problems. Many tears have been shed when settling in a remote Australian outback town or new suburb. It can be stressful when a spouse struggles or the children have problems at the local school.
Often well-established and respected at home, immigrant doctors start all over again. They are initially temporary residents with limited rights and no access to Medicare. Their medical registration is conditional, they have to work in places where many Australian trained health professionals don’t want to work, and their future is uncertain and dependent on passing health checks, police checks, language tests, assessments and exams.
It can be difficult to negotiate employment conditions or discuss real or perceived injustices – as a conflict may lead to cancellation of sponsorship or visa. Financial challenges are common as starting over in a new country does not come cheap. There are all sorts of legal and tax problems, such as dual taxation. I had to give up my Dutch citizenship when I became an Australian citizen.
For the immigrant there is always ‘the other world’ of their home country. They often use the holidays to fly ‘home’ and visit family and friends for a few weeks, which is joyful but can be intense and emotional. Migrants may never feel one hundred percent part of the Australian society and at the same time they often don’t fit in anymore in the home country, which can affect their sense of belonging and create feelings of loneliness.
For me another culture shock was rural medicine. The contrast with Amsterdam, where I trained as a doctor, could not have been greater. I quickly had to learn about tropical diseases, snake bites and Irukandji – just to name a few. Shortly after I arrived a 4.2 meter saltwater crocodile dragged a fisherman from his tent on the riverbank when a woman jumped on its back to stop the giant reptile; the story appeared in all the newspapers.
Although many of the medical textbooks back home were written in English, learning to speak the medical jargon in another language was yet another challenge. Names and doses of commonly used drugs differ between countries, not to mention the different guidelines.
I was able to do a few up skilling courses including trauma and emergency medicine and with assistance from helpful and skilled colleagues – sometimes over the phone – and a great nursing team, we were able to manage many problems locally. I am grateful for all those who have welcomed and taught me over the years – patients, staff, nurses, fellow doctors and others.
For a long time I thought my ‘adventures’ were unique but over the years I learned about similar stories, not only from overseas doctors but also from Australian graduates, all struggling during their first placements in rural and regional hospitals and GP practices.
These stories are often tales of incredible resilience and courage and what always amazes me is to hear how valued health professionals are in their communities – even though we may often feel ill-prepared or have doubts about our skills and knowledge.
The demands on doctors in small towns can be high, not seldom 24 hours per day. Working towards another degree or fellowship is taxing for anyone, but for international medical graduates coming from a different background there are many extra challenges. The working hours and fatigue don’t go well with training and exam preparation.
The workload and the tyranny of distance can make supervision suboptimal; there is often limited support and the amount of bureaucracy can be perceived as overwhelming.
On the bright side, there are many people who warmly welcome and support the newcomers. Professional bodies and colleges offer introductory, support and exam preparation programs, but often the local and individual initiatives make the difference. An example is Dr Farooq Ahmad who, after passing his Australian fellowship exam, decided to support others and has helped hundreds of doctors pass their exams.
In the video below Kenyan born Dr Ken Wanguhu describes the importance of being welcomed by a community as well as the rewards of contributing and ‘giving back’.
Although many areas of Australia are relying heavily on international medical graduates, not everyone is happy with the influx of doctors from overseas. Critics of the Australian skilled immigration policy have often mentioned the ‘brain drain effect’ on developing countries: the recruitment of healthcare professionals compromises the, often already struggling, healthcare systems in the developing world.
Concerns have publicly been expressed about doctors from non-Western training backgrounds and the uncertainty around standards and relevance of knowledge and skills to the Australian situation.
The regulation changed in the aftermath of the Dr Jayant Patel case. Dr Patel, nicknamed ‘Dr Death’, was permanently barred from practising medicine in Australia in 2015. Legislation introduced in 2009 now protects patients by ensuring that only health practitioners who are suitably trained and qualified to practise in a competent and ethical manner can be registered.
This example is not unique to Australia nor to international medical graduates. Many countries have similar stories, think for example about Dr Harold Shipman in the UK and Dr Christopher Duntsch in the US.
Although there is anecdotal evidence that patients sometimes avoid seeking treatment by international medical graduates, research indicates that there is no difference in patient satisfaction with, and acceptance of, care by Australian and international medical graduates.
The ‘doctors from overseas’ bring diversity, expertise, experiences, cultures, innovation and stories to Australia. Cross-cultural experience appears to be valuable in many ways; some have argued that immigrants are more entrepreneurial, resilient and creative. Whether this is true or not, one thing is for sure, starting a new life in a different country takes courage and perseverance.
My wife Nancy and I have never looked back. Although we miss our family and friends in The Netherlands, we’re grateful for the opportunities Australia has given us. I can only hope I am able to give back what I have received.
Giving feedback is of course best done in person. However, in the digital era this may not always be practical or possible and a lot of feedback already occurs via email, text messages or social media.
There are many ways to give feedback, some more effective than others. I have probably made every mistake possible. I’ve also seen really good and some not so good examples, including on this blog.
Giving effective feedback requires more than stating errors or shortcomings. Problem identification, clarification and advice or suggestions for improvement are useful parts of the feedback process.
To make feedback acceptable and useful for the recipient, it is best delivered in a supportive way, including both positive and negative observations. We all know this is not always happening on social media, comments sections and blogs. Sometimes basic elements of respect and dignity are forgotten, which may undo the positive effects of feedback.
Most doctors and other health professionals are passionate about what they do, but we also experience excessive occupational demands and sometimes lack of personal support. Electronic means of communication can play an important support role, but can also be a source of stress.
Some research suggests that doctors have high expectations of self, are achievement-oriented and have a tendency to self-blame. Together with the often non-disclosure of personal distress, this makes the profession vulnerable for burnout. Let’s be kind to ourselves and our peers.
Consequences & effect
We all appreciate helpful and constructive feedback, so it is good to think about the way we give feedback to others and the consequences our comments may have in the digital space.
The Medical Board’s Code of Conduct mentions ‘communicating respectfully’ and ‘behaving professionally and courteously to colleagues and other practitioners, including when using social media’.
An honest, well-formulated feedback message can be powerful and may have a positive impact. To achieve this I recommend the following 10 do’s and don’ts:
Be kind & respectful
Help create positive, safe environments at work and in the digital space
Base comments on direct observations and facts, not rumours or hear-say
Be specific and to-the-point (and try to separate multiple issues)
Apply the feedback rules of constructive criticism (e.g. include positives and negatives)
Try to use positive words such as appreciate, suggest, improve, assist, solution, like, right, thanks
Before posting on public forums try to give direct feedback first
Only say things on social media you would be prepared to repeat face-to-face
Be prepared to listen and examine your own actions and behaviour
Always keep the social media policies and code of conduct of your organisation or profession in mind.
Don’t just list problems, propose solutions too
Don’t psychoanalyse or judge people, instead focus on actions & effect
Don’t give feedback before fully understanding the issues (there are always two sides to every story)
Try to avoid using words such as should, never, always, why, you(r), but – and especially the stronger ones like dumb, fail, ludicrous, crazy, farce, ridiculous, shambles
Don’t press the send/post button when you are upset, angry or tired
Avoid using exclamation marks and capital letters midsentence (comes across as shouting)
Avoid giving the same feedback multiple times
Avoid irony and humour as it may be misinterpreted
Don’t phrase feedback as a question
Don’t speak for others unless you are a representative.
What is your preferred method of giving effective feedback?
Video: 10 Common mistakes in giving feedback (Source: Center for Creative Leadership):
There are many benefits of online health services and they can complement traditional face-to-face GP visits. But there are also examples that raise questions.
The young woman was in tears. When she came in she had initially asked for a referral to a surgeon for a breast augmentation. During the conversation it turned out that her partner had made it clear her breasts were too small.
We ended up having a chat about relationships and body image. At the end of the consultation she decided she needed some time to think things over and talk to good friends, and that she would come back if she needed further assistance.
The problem with online referrals
At first sight, the Qoctor website seems an easy, convenient online medical service that provides sick certificates and referrals.
The site tells visitors: “(…) we understand that a well person who simply needs a letter to see a specialist should be able to get one without requiring a GP consultation.”
I’d like to challenge that. The woman in the example above was well but did she need a referral to undergo an expensive procedure that would change her body?
There are many issues with a system that allows access to specialist care without a review by a primary care doctor. Unnecessary referrals, increased costs and further pressure on the hospital system are just the beginning.
Once a visitor has selected a specialist the system asks a few simple questions about allergies and previous surgery and there are some boxes to tick (see image). I wonder how many people will just enter through to get to the section where you pay and automatically receive the referral letter (as pdf file).
Good telehealth principles
Sometimes writing referrals is a straightforward process but often it is not. What is missing here are the safeguards with regards to other management options, coordination of care, the communication between the usual doctor and specialist, and follow-up. What about whole patient care?
Interestingly the service seems to assume that – after automatically cashing in the online referral fee – the patient’s usual GP will be responsible for the follow-up if required.
The Royal Australian College of General Practitioners (RACGP) has developed some common-sense principles for telehealth services, including on-demand online health services. These principles include the following:
On-demand telehealth services should preferably be provided by a patient’s usual GP or practice
On-demand telehealth services to unknown patients should only be provided when the patient’s usual practice cannot provide care for them, either in person (at the practice or by a home visit) or online, and no other general practices are physically accessible
Patient notes should always be sent to the patient’s usual GP or practice (with the patient’s permission). This ensures continuity of care and centralises patient records.
I suspect that most people are aware of the risks of online health services and will consult their GP first. At the same time there will always be people who are attracted to these services because they are quick and easy. It is also commercially enticing: if you sign up for Qoctor you may win a $100 Coles Meyer gift card.
The patient testimonials on the website, which probably go against AHPRA’s advertising guidelines for regulated health services, seem positive. The question is usually: are these real testimonials?
As always with disruptive technologies there is the convenience aspect for consumers – but is bypassing the most efficient and cost-effective part of healthcare by printing out an online ticket to the expensive part in the best interest of Australians? I doubt it.
Many people are still getting over the disappointment of Medicare Locals. I get that. Although some MLs were able to make a difference, too many were not. The new Primary Health Networks (PHNs) may be a different kettle of fish. One thing is for sure: they are here for the long haul.
There is an enormous opportunity for PHNs to add value where they support quality primary healthcare services to the community. For that reason the RACGP is keen to work with the new organisations. I believe there are at least three areas where grassroots support from local PHNs can make a big difference.
The first area is relationship building and teamwork. We all know there are too many silos and tribes in healthcare. On the other hand, long-term relationships positively influence knowledge exchange, understanding and trust.
Where possible, health providers should be freed up to have the option to discuss clinical care with each other. This is important all for health professionals, and even more so for those working in rural and remote areas.
We should ensure that non-clinicians do not get in the way of effective inter-collegial communication. For example, referral letters have to contain the necessary information to allow the next health provider to do their job properly, but we must avoid overly bureaucratic referral rules. A clinical override mechanism of these rules must always be available.
PHNs could assist, for example, with developing shared clinical priorities and organising site visits, breakfasts, lunches, dinners and conferences that cross disciplinary and organisational boundaries.
Continuity of care
The second area is improving continuity of care. This is not a catchphrase, but a crucial element of general practice with numerous proven long-term health benefits. Unfortunately it seems this principle is often sacrificed in new initiatives and models for the sake of short-term results, convenience or commercial interests.
It is helpful to distinguish the three types of continuity of care, as explained by Haggerty et al: informational continuity (sharing data), management continuity (sharing a consistent approach) and relational continuity (fostering an ongoing therapeutic relationship).
Electronic health records will assist with informational continuity, but not necessarily with management continuity and relational continuity.
“New models of care should not further fragment care
There is ample evidence that comprehensive, continuous care by GPs results in improved patient health outcomes and satisfaction. Continuity of care is cost-effective and reduces both elective and emergency hospital admissions.
GPs play a key role in keeping people out of hospital. It is important however that hospital avoidance projects help to build capacity, facilitate access in primary care and respect the principle of continuity of care.
New integrated models of care should carefully be evaluated to make sure they don’t do the opposite and fragment care thereby negatively impacting on health outcomes – often with the best intentions. PHNs can play a big role here.
Data exchange and communication
A third area where PHNs should assist general practice is electronic data exchange and communication. Because of its central position in primary care, general practice is the natural collection point of clinical information. Direct, secure, electronic communication between GPs, specialists, community pharmacists and allied health providers is beneficial for optimal patient care, but remains problematic in many regions.
“Delayed information from hospitals is still one of the biggest problems
Delayed or absent correspondence from hospitals to referring doctors is still one of the biggest problems for GPs who are frequently trying to deal with returning patients without any information from the hospital.
All necessary information should be supplied in hospital discharge summaries, and it should not be left to the GP or practice staff to chase up any information from the hospital.
General practitioners need to ensure their referrals are of sufficient quality, consistent with RACGP standards, and useful for practitioners who continue the patient care in different settings of the health system. That means the referral information must be complete, accurate and timely.
Hospital referral criteria may require additional, locally agreed-on information, but extensive extra information (such as patient questionnaires) is the responsibility of the requesting institutions, and GPs should not be made responsible for its collection and supply.
There is room for improvement of communication between GPs. Getting the different healthcare computer systems to talk to each other is a big issue in many parts of the country. This is problematic as Australia has a mobile population. Low-cost software solutions such as GP2GP, used in New Zealand and the UK, could solve this.
The MyHealthRecord (formerly PCEHR) is, due to its many technical and medicolegal issues, not yet widely accepted as a reliable clinical tool and we see more alternative, locally developed e-health solutions in the near future.
In conclusion there are substantial opportunities for PHNs in supporting and adequately resourcing general practice and its interactions with other parts of the health system. To quote the National Health and Hospitals Reform Commission (NHHRC): “We believe that strengthened primary health care services in the community, building on the vital role of general practice, should be the ‘first contact’ for providing care for most health needs of Australian people.”
This article was originally published in The Medical Republic.
Ok, so I was wrong. I really liked the RACGP good GP television commercial. It had some flaws but I thought they were small in the grand scheme of things (see my last post). But many patient advocates did not agree and were unhappy about the lack of communication portrayed in the video.
Blogger Michelle Roger commented: “My current GP asks me what I want to do, what I think is most important and together we sort through the problem at hand and potential solutions. I feel valued and heard and trust her more knowing that she listens and knows me and my family.”
“That for me was missing in the video. It was one-sided and the patients appeared little more than props to be talked at. In fact the patients had no voice at all. A problem that still permeates a lot of medicine.”
Crockey health blog posted an article titled ‘The Good GP never stops learning: the RACGP video that made doctors cry – and patient advocates wince’. In a response to this article Irish blogger Marie Ennis-O’connor wrote on her blog: “We can’t just talk about a commitment to patient centred care – we have to live it. It is only by bridging the divide which places patient and doctor expertise on opposite sides that we can achieve more personalized and meaningful care of the patient.”
I wondered why the patient opinion was so different to mine. On Twitter it was suggested to me that more doctors should read patient blogs to understand their view better. I thought that was a good idea so I asked for some recommendations and started reading.
I can tell you, it didn’t cheer me up but it was enlightening. It felt a bit like a refresher course “do’s and dont’s for doctors”. What I read was that, in the eyes of patients:
Doctors often don’t know how to deal with disabilities
Doctors sometimes blame patients for treatment failures
Some doctors find it hard to accept patients as experts
Doctors don’t always communicate well.
Now that I’ve read the blog posts I feel that I can better appreciate the patient response to the RACGP video – and I learnt a lot more along the way.
I have been given permission to share parts of these blogs and I recommend anyone who works in healthcare to read on. It may help to bridge the divide. Doctors beware: don’t expect flattery.
Empathy towards disability
In one of her posts writer and speaker Carly Findlay tells the story of how doctors gave up on her and told her parents to prepare for her death, and how she later met one of these doctors.
(…) “Over the Christmas holidays, I introduced myself as an adult to the dermatologist who gave me a pretty dismal prognosis as a baby. He pretended not to remember me until he told me I always had blocked ears. I think he was surprised to see me. I told him some of my achievements including how I am now educating dermatologists about my condition (something he needed when he treated me).”
(…) “Other people with Ichthyosis tell me that doctors didn’t give them a chance either. My friends have said that their parents were told they wouldn’t make it into mainstream school, that they wouldn’t have relationships or children, and that they would be social outcasts.”
(…) “The political models of disability can determine a person’s compassion and empathy towards disability. And so a doctor’s low expectations for a baby born with a disability can set the scene for their attitude through the lifespan of that patient.” (…) Doctors need to move past the textbook and immerse themselves in the disability community to truly learn and empathise with our experiences.”
Blogger Caf explains how doctors told her to see a psychiatrist when their attempts to treat her chronic pain failed.
“I had arrived at the appointment of the reveal, hobbling with a pair of forearm crutches. I could hardly bear any weight on the offending ankle. It didn’t take long for him to deliver his message, laced with condescension and arrogance. ‘There’s nothing wrong with your ankle. Why are you on crutches?’”
(…) “Chronic pain has been misunderstood and stigmatised for so long that many people probably don’t know what to believe. Even patients themselves often wonder if they’ve just gone crazy because their symptoms are so utterly illogical.”
Caf says that her experiences have affected her trust: “I’m not sure that I truly trust any doctors, despite having a lovely GP.”
Michelle also writes about pain in this post: “And there is a pervasive idea of the drug-seeker, seen in every patient who has chronic pain. That those who simply don’t get over pain and require ongoing pharmaceutical management are weak.”
“Friends who have used pain clinics tell stories of dismissal and blame. That they are not trying hard enough when they don’t recover, when I know the lengths they have gone to to try and alleviate their pain. And compassionate pain doctors who become the exception not the rule.”
The patient as expert
In another post she writes: “As a patient with an unusual, complex, and poorly understood disorder, 9 times out of 10 when I see a new doctor I am the expert in the room.”
(…) “I spend my spare time researching my disorders on Medline. I flip through Cochrane Reviews, and review consensus statements regularly. I read up on the drugs I’m taking and keep abreast of current research trials. On forums, I can ask questions of other patients.
“The constant fight to be heard is exhausting
(…) “Some doctors are quite happy to acknowledge that I may know more about my disorder than they do. For example, my GP is happy for me to take the lead on my treatment needs. Even my cardiologist is happy to discuss my disorder in more of a collegiate manner, than the traditional doctor-patient relationship.”
(…) “Yet there are many others who are nothing short of dismissive. Should I dare to suggest a potential treatment or line of investigation the appointment can become adversarial. At times what I say is outright ignored.”
“Case in point my recent hospital admission. Despite having a red allergy band on my arm, sharing the information from my Allergist, and speaking to both my neurosurgeon, anaesthetist and senior nurse about my allergy to adhesives, I awoke to welts and rashes across my body. My pre-op information met with eye rolls, a sense that I was over-anxious, and thus completely ignored.”
(…) “The constant fight to be heard is exhausting. We are told that we must be our own advocates. That the future is patient-centred medicine. That rapport and making a patient feel part of the decision-making model leads to more compliance and more successful outcomes.”
Michelle: “Patients no longer live in a bubble where they are reliant upon their doctors as the only source of information. With the advent of social media and the ease of access to medical journals, patients can be as up to date, and at times, in front of their doctors, with regard to advances within their various disorders. We come empowered and informed to our appointments and have an expectation that our doctors will be equally informed or at the least, willing to listen and work with us.”
“We have an expectation that our doctors will be equally informed or at the least, willing to listen and work with us
“The medical community needs to be aware of the new ways information is being shared, especially the speed at which information can now travel. Instead of criticising patients for researching their ailments, they should instead be working with them, especially to direct them to more appropriate medically sound sources of information.”
“Patients are already distrustful of big pharma and the way research is funded. If their physicians also refuse to help them navigate these areas or are dismissive of their efforts, such distrust will also pass to them, to the detriment of both practitioner and patient.”
Carly: “I went to hospital earlier this year. I was so sore, and a bit miserable. I saw a junior doctor, one I had not seen before. I spent an hour in the consult room, talking to her about Ichthyosis, but also my job, blogging, wedding plans, travel and the Australian Ichthyosis meet.”
“Their compassion means I am a human being first
“She said I was the first patient she’d met with Ichthyosis and she wanted to learn more than what she’d seen in the textbook. Her supervisor came in to provide further input into my treatment. Again, we talked about life, not just Ichthyosis.”
“And she told this junior doctor how lucky they are to have me as their educator. What a compliment. I am so lucky to feel empowered as a patient at my hospital. These doctors listen to me. They treat me as a person not a diagnosis. They see my potential and are proud of my achievements. Their compassion means I am a human being first.”
Five doctors went duck hunting one day. Included in the group were a general practitioner, a paediatrician, a psychiatrist, a surgeon and a pathologist.
After a time, a bird came winging overhead. The first to react was the GP who raised his shotgun, but then hesitated. “I’m not quite sure it’s a duck,” he said, “I think that I will have to get a second opinion.” And of course by that time, the bird was long gone.
Another bird appeared in the sky thereafter. This time, the paediatrician drew a bead on it. He too, however, was unsure if it was really a duck in his sights and besides, it might have babies. “I’ll have to do some more investigations,” he muttered, as the creature made good its escape.
Next to spy a bird flying was the sharp-eyed psychiatrist. Shotgun shouldered, he was more certain of his intended prey’s identity. “Now, I know it’s a duck, but does it know it’s a duck?” The fortunate bird disappeared while the fellow wrestled with this dilemma.
Finally, a fourth fowl sped past and this time the surgeon’s weapon pointed skywards. BOOM!!
The surgeon lowered his smoking gun and turned nonchalantly to the pathologist beside him and said: “Go see if that was a duck, will you?”
What’s great about this joke is not just the stereotype behaviour of the five doctors – which most people working in healthcare immediately will recognise. What is wonderful here, is the different disciplines doing some team building. They may not be very efficient as a team yet, and they could have picked a different activity, but at least they have found a common goal: hunting.
In the real world of medicine we sometimes seem to have forgotten our purpose. The inconvenient truth is that we’re often acting as a dysfunctional team where every member’s main goal is to finish their own little task, and where other team members and disciplines are sometimes regarded as ‘the enemy’.
A while back I was privileged to hear Dr Victoria Brazil speak at a conference of the Royal Australian College of General Practitioners in Brisbane. Dr Brazil is an emergency physician and passionate about the topic of medical tribalism. Instead of the more primitive tribal behaviour – characterised by hostility towards other tribes and the unwillingness to take responsibility for a bigger cause – we should move to a kinder tribalism driven by mission and purpose, without common enemies, she argues.
Dr Brazil reminds us that we cannot achieve the best patient outcome without other disciplines. Building relationships, communicating and networking are the key to success. This sounds obvious but it’s not very often that we make time to sit down and have a yarn with members of other teams.
You don’t have to go duck hunting together, but next time you talk to someone belonging to a different tribe, maybe just introduce yourself and ask how they’re going.
If you would like to know more about this fascinating topic: In the video below Dr Brazil, who is also a gifted speaker, addresses a room full of medical tribes (but with a common interest in emergency medicine). She explains how we can overcome the dark side of medical tribalism. Enjoy.
“Picking the right boss is far more important than picking the right job” (anonymous)
I once applied for the position of GP liaison officer at a public hospital, a part-time job for a couple of days per week. My main motivation was to improve communication between the hospital tribes and the community tribes. I didn’t get the job but learned a lot about the do’s & dont’s of a selection process.
After reading the advertisement online I thought it would be a good idea to give the HR department a call to ask some questions about the nature of the job. When I rang nobody seemed to know about the position. One person said: “GP liaison offer? We already have someone doing that.” I was transferred several times and was eventually told someone would get in touch with me.
Two days after the application deadline – I had sent my letter nevertheless – I received a call, which was nice but I would have preferred this before putting in the application.
At this stage I was wondering what was going on in the organisation and if a liaison person could achieve anything. On the other hand, it definitely looked like they needed such a person. As I had posted my letter and CV, I thought I’d wait for their response in the weeks to come.
Nothing happened. When I called two months later it was like a Déjà vu: Nobody could give me any information.
A chaotic selection process where candidates are kept waiting too long sends out unwanted messages that are not doing the organisation any good – for example:
Internal systems and procedures are chaotic
The organisation is too busy, understaffed or inefficient
Communication is not a priority
The organisation doesn’t care about (future) employees
Eventually, four months after the deadline, I was invited for an interview. In all fairness, during the face-to-face interview apologies were made for the delay. The interview was done in a friendly and professional manner and I left with a positive impression and prepared to forget the poor communication and waiting times.
Until… the waiting game started again: It took a further two months before I was invited for a second interview. At this stage my motivation for the job had plummeted, and after another couple of months I finally decided to send an email explaining I couldn’t wait any longer. The same-day reply to that email contained a scanned letter (addressed to the wrong address) informing me I was not selected.
I’ve seen many blog posts about job interviews; how to select the best candidate, what questions to ask, who should be on the interview panel, even what tasks to give potential candidates during the selection process. But I haven’t read much about how to make a good impression on candidates.
Everything an organisation does during a selection procedure contributes to their brand image. Looking after the candidates is important, even if the market is in favour of an organisation (many candidates, few positions), as candidates will go away without a job offer but with an experience that says a lot about the organisation or company.
Just like my patients get grumpy when they have to wait for me without knowing why, potential candidates may become frustrated about their future boss or organisation if they have been kept waiting too long. Here are some tips to run a smooth selection process, based on my personal experience:
Plan ahead: have a panel ready, set a timeline and schedule some preliminary dates for interviews
Have a fall back position in case one of the panel members becomes unavailable or a candidate can’t make a certain deadline
Inform staff about the vacancy and have a contact person ready to answer questions from applicants
Respond to application letters within two weeks and explain the procedure and expected time frame
Consider phone or one-on-one screening interviews to make a first selection (in case there are many applicants)
Tell the candidates when you will get back to them after the interview and contact them in case of delays
Offer the non-successful candidates personal feedback if desired.
I remain committed to improving communication with the hospital.