Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta . . . . and more.

Man.

I love my job. I truly do. It goes without saying that I love taking care of patients at Grady Hospital. I think it's also understood that I deeply enjoy doing so shoulder to shoulder with amazingly talented nurses, social workers, interpreters, residents, medical students and ancillary staff. Even on the days that I feel most exhausted, some part of me always looks forward to going into Grady.

Always.

But in 2007? Something took my job to another level. In 2007, I was appointed as one of sixteen faculty advisors to our incoming class of medical students. We would be the first to usher them into what we affectionately referred to as "the new curriculum." Each faculty member was assigned between seven and nine students that they would both teach and advise over their entire matriculation through medical school.

The agreement was four years (plus a possible additional year) for each group. From the first day of school until they graduated, they would be our responsibility right along with the medical school administration. We would be their advocates, their teachers, their tough love-deliverers, and, if we were lucky, their go-to person for good times and bad times.

If we held up our end of the bargain, we'd get another group two years later. And another two years after that. And so on and so on and so on.

And so. That's what happened. I held up my end of the bargain and got to remain in this absolutely amazing role. And let's be clear -- I do not exaggerate one bit when I use those words "absolutely amazing." Being given the opportunity to have such sustained contact with learners is a huge responsibility. But more than that, it's such an honor. Man. It's one I don't take lightly at all.

So in 2007, I welcomed in Small Group Alpha--all of whom are full-fledged residents supervising young interns and medical students of their own. 

Two years later, I was trusted to take on Small Group Beta in 2009. And it amazes me to see where they all are some four years later.

Next thing I knew, two more years had flown by. Small Group Alpha had nearly all flown out of the nest and it was time to bring in a new group to the family. This time it was Small Group Gamma -- who I affectionately refer to as "The Gammites."

I promise you -- it seems like I just took that picture above less than five minutes ago. But you know what? I didn't. I took it two full years ago. And these guys -- The Gammites -- have been joined by two additional students while one of our originals has gone off to pursue a PhD for a few years. He will rejoin the medical school after (but that doesn't mean he isn't still a part of our family.)

Yeah. So the Gammmites are now big time third years now. The Beta bunch are slugging it out as interns with a couple of academic research/master degree detour exceptions. But what's even crazier is that some of the group in SG Alpha could even be ATTENDING PHYSICIANS by this time next year. Which is super, duper bananas when I think about it.

So you know what that means, right? It means that I just got a new group. Yes, yes, y'all. Small Group DELTA has arrived.

Wow.

I look at them and think about how much my relationships with the others have evolved. I think about how special each of them are and how thrilled I am to know that I get to do it all over again. And can I just go on the record saying that every two years I marvel at how I somehow ALWAYS seem to get the very best small group? Can I? Because that's totally how I feel.

And you know? I feel this way already about The Deltoids. (How could I resist calling them that?)

 

You don't have to say it. Their mean mug needs work, I know. But don't worry. We have four years to fix that. We also have three generations of expert mean-muggers to teach them the proper way.

 

 

 

Ha.

Seriously, though -- this is such an awesome thing to get to do. For more than just the obvious reasons like building wonderful relationships with my small groups. It's more than that. There are some other really unexpected yet really great perks beyond those four assigned four year experiences.

First there's just the things that happen just from having a regular presence in the medical school. Other students see more than just their advisors. The dynamic leads them to feel more comfortable approaching people to mentor them, too. And that's pretty darn awesome.

Over time, I've developed some very close relationships with students outside of my own small groups. Some of those students have been on my ward teams. But you know? The vast majority aren't. They're simply students who've seen me around and with whom I've interacted just from being there so much.

I like to call them my "accessory" small group even though they are mostly made up of individual relationships.

So that? That's another perk.

And then there's this other really, really amazing thing that happens. See, these students were supposed to be mine until they graduated. But you know what? When you build relationships with people, they don't just disappear into thin air on graduation day. And so. This really great thing has happened where my former students have kept my number in their phones. They call me with their critical incidents from their residencies. They text me with funny pictures and exciting life moments. And I just love it. Every bit of it.

Dan in Philly

Vishes being vicious

Sparky and his PGY3 swag at Wash U

Gunan looking pseudoexcited about his current rotation

Hreem looking like a PGY3 Ophthalmology BOSS.

Zach at your service on his current clerkship

Doris and baby Savannah in Chicago where she is an ER intern

Hreem and Neel on their wedding day in May

Jin doing some acro-yoga in D.C. between Anesthesia cases

Dougie and wife Anne are in a NY state of mind for his residency in Anesthesia

Tony mean mugs his ENT on call pager

When she isn't a green tutu wearing ninja, Antoinette is an upper level Ob/Gyn resident

And I could go on and on and on and on. . . .

Yeah. So today I was just thinking. Thinking about how wonderful it is to have a career that feels so meaningful on so many levels. How fortunate I am to get to do something that nourishes my soul and encourages me to grow. All of it is just so. . . awesome.

I'm so, so grateful, man. And I know I've said it before but it bears repeating. Damn, I'm just so, so glad to be here.

Yeah.

***
Happy Saturday.

Oh yeah! Guess what y'all? An SG first!! I have a DELTA girl in my Small Group Delta!! Woo hooo!!!  How apropos in 2013!

My advisee and my SOROR!! :)

The B.P.M.E.

Happy Birthday to my amazing professional mentor and friend, Dr. Neil W. I am so fortunate to have this guy pushing me to be my best. Through his example, I am inspired to be a more selfless mentor and human being. Through his encouragement, I am inspired to go past the potential that I see for myself to catch up to the one he sees for me instead.

Everyone needs a great mentor. Or mentors. And specifically, I'm speaking of the professional setting, but it goes without saying that the very best professional ones care about your personal growth, too.

Wondering what makes a great mentor? Take a look at this post here. Have one already and not sure if it's working? That post should help you with that, too. I was thinking of the B.P.M.E. (best professional mentor ever) in mind, when I wrote that post. Essentially, I came up with a list of why our mentor-mentee relationship works which I think is relatable to others, too.

If you haven't found a mentor yet, let this be your nudge. You need one. You telling you what you need is critical. But you telling you things can get overly subjective. Or overly objective. Or neither of these. . . . perhaps overly fretty instead.

I'm fortunate to have Dr. W. on my side. We aren't in competition. We have genuine respect for one another. He doesn't need me to be a "mini-me" version of himself. And most importantly, this guy wants to and likes to see me win. And, even though I try hard to offer it, requires not a single drop of the glory when I do win.

Now that's what I'm talking about.

***
Happy Saturday. And Happy Birthday, buddy.

Who's your mentor? What makes them great?

Another Match Day Moment.

These pictures were sent to me by a student that I've had the pleasure of advising for the last two years.  This lovely young doctor is Ania L. -- and she is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. On these snaps, I'd just learned that she had gotten her first choice of residency programs and I guess someone was there with a very nice camera to capture it all. (I'm such a dork when I'm excited. . .ha ha ha!)

When we first met, she was pretty sure that she wanted to become a surgeon. We worked together for a full month at Grady and it was wonderful. (Check her out on the right margin -- that was from our month together.) Anyways, I was elated to learn after our month that she'd changed her mind and decided to pursue a career in Internal Medicine! And no, I don't think it was because of me--duh! But I am so, so happy that I wasn't a hindrance to her coming to that realization (which can and does happen if some parts of the experience aren't good.)

Ania isn't in one of my small groups. But she is one of mine. Totally. I told another student advisee just the other day (who isn't in my small group) -- "When you meet special students, you hold on and don't let go. Next thing you know, you look up and you have a whole collection of wonderful mentees. This is the best part of mentoring." And that's so, so true. We get to listen and teach and advise and assist. We also get to celebrate big moments like this one because once we hold on they become our moments, too. They sure do.


Seriously? This is the best job ever. 


Ever.

***
Happy Monday.

Mentor-fic Part 2: Breaking out and braking in.

Rock wall climbing with Isaiah on a Saturday

With one of my student mentees, Erica U., on another Saturday.

When I was a child, my mother took me to see a pediatrician named Dr. Chris. I am pretty sure his real name was something else, but this is what he had us call him. Anyways, from what I recollect, Dr. Chris was a nice doctor in that Marcus Welby kind of way.  Crisp white coat. Pleasant handshake to mom. Antiseptic smelling room filled with glass bottles of ear curettes, cotton balls, and tongue depressors. Even a few kid magazines like Highlights.

As a kid, it was hard for me to imagine that Dr. Chris did much of anything outside of doctoring. Like, surely he drove straight home in his late model Buick, kissed his June Cleaver-ish wife on the cheek and chucked his son under the chin, right? And, of course, after that he switched into slippers kind of like Mr. Robinson and then sat down quietly in an arm chair to read medical journals and textbooks until dinner was ready.

But now that I'm a grown woman (and a doctor) I know that this was more than likely not the case. Not even close. Heck, for all I know, Dr. C was a straitlaced pediatrician by day and Harley Davidson hog riding bad ass by night. Or maybe he did improv at the local theater or had taken up swing dancing.  Who knows?

My friend and fellow Grady doctor, Stacy H., is a movie connoisseur. She loves indie films and big studio films and can talk about them better than Siskel or Ebert in their hey day.

Jason S., my other Grady doctor pal, marches in a marching band during his free time. And not just any old band. He is a part of The Marching Abominable--which is one part marching band and ten parts fun -- all dressed up in some of the best costumes you've ever seen.

Me? I write this quirky blog. And yes, it includes medical things, but I'm sure someone somewhere who meets me in the hospital or catches me talking about something on a television somewhere is a bit surprised when they happen upon this thing. After all--this is the place where I posted a video of myself double-dutching on my fortieth birthday. 

Aaaaaah. But that brings me to my mentor. My awesomely energetic mentor-extraordinaire Neil W. This guy has brains that put Marcus Welby, Trapper John, and House to shame. He edits Journal Watch Hospital Medicine, gives talks all over the place and has a wall littered with teaching awards from medical students, residents and professional organizations. But. He also plays a mean game of full court basketball, knows the words to more 80's rap tunes than me, and my favorite of all of his non-doctor talents?

Wait for it. . .wait for it. . .

He's an auto-mechanic. Yes, people. A highly skilled auto-mechanic. (Kind of like the car version of the "kitchen beautician.")

So check it. One day, back when I was pregnant with Isaiah, I was driving on interstate 285 and suddenly my car just decelerates. Just like that. It was horrible and terrifying.

And expensive.

Turns out that my timing belt had broken which I have since learned is something that you never, ever want to have happen to you because it will absolutely put you in the poor house. So I go to work and I'm lamenting in the hallway with my big pregnant Buddha belly about my dang near $3000 timing belt destruction.

Neil's antennas raise all the way up and next thing I know,  he is spitting all kinds of random factoids about pistons and jamming and timing belts and parts and jobs and labor and getting ripped off and . .and . . and. . yeah.  It was seriously like a one man episode of "Car Talk" on NPR. This is when I learn of The Great Garage of the Grady Doctor (aka Neil's garage.)

It was too late to get my engine fixed at the G3D, plus the head mechanic of the G3D was on the inpatient service that month so it was a no-go. But ever since then? Most of my mechanical questions regarding my car, I always run by the G3D guy.

That timing belt disaster involved a fairly old Volkswagen Passat.  I haven't had much need for the Great Garage of the Grady Doctor since getting my Volvo back in '04.

But in case you haven't checked your calendar lately, it's almost 2012 so the statute of limitations has run out on me not having car issues. And so. At the end of one of our recent mentor-mentee meetings where we were discussing a lecture we're giving together at the upcoming Society of Hospital Medicine meeting, Neil mentions that he is visiting his brother in California, at which time he will be replacing his brakes.

"It's a Volvo and I got a great deal on parts from eBay," he said happily. Neil gets really excited when he talks about fixing cars. His eyes dance all crazy and spit flies from his mouth because he doesn't even bother to stop to swallow the saliva of his foaming mouth. And though this is not the first time I'd seen or heard such a tale from my mentor, one part of this particular story grabbed my attention.

"A Volvo!? Dude, my brakes have been making sounds on my Volvo!"

"Squeaking?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"Uhhh. . . . .more like. . .scrubbing. Heh."

"Scrubbing? Like scraping?"

"Errr. . . .srcrubby-scraping."

"Not squeaking, though?"

"I think I passed squeaking a few weeks ago."

And after that, it was back to that "Car Talk" thing again. Hands waving. Words flying over my head and at my face at several miles per hour. Not a single of which made sense to me. All I knew was that at the end of that meeting, in addition to putting together some objectives for our lecture on "Processing Medical Errors", I was also given the assignment of finding out if I needed pads and rotors or just pads.

Fortunately, I'd just gotten two new wheels for my car so that answer was easy. I needed both.

"Figures," Neil said with a shrug. "Scrubbing and scraping are never good news."

"Even if it's intermittent?" I asked sheepishly.

And to that he answered by just shaking his head.

So you know what happened next, right? Of course, you do!  My mentor breaks out into the full happy dance and comes up with a perfect plot for getting my brakes fixed up.  He offered to work on my brakes during my trip to Pittsburgh for my visiting profesora adventure and would even order the parts through his friend's auto shop. (Shout out to Billy at Bones Enterprises in Tucker, Georgia!)

Now seeing as he had just done this job on a Volvo and had been working on many a car of many a Grady doctor before me, I was 100% down with this plan. As was the B.H.E., because I am sure that many of you were wondering just where he stood on such a proposition. Now. Seeing as the B.H.E. and Neil the G3D mechanic are down like four flat tires (wow, I'm so witty) this whole thing was win-win. For sure and fo' sho.

Plus--it wouldn't involve us getting anihilated by some mechanic at a national chain for ridiculously inflated labor and parts costs.

All in time for Christmas, too! Hallelujah!

Alright, so I left my car at Grady with Neil and while I was off having fun with Shanta Z. and my new friends at University of Pittsburgh, my mentor-ific mentor was both coming up with new and exciting things for me career-wise AND fixing the brakes on my Volvo XC90.

Don't believe me? Check this out! (Oh! By the way, if you're viewing this on an iPad or phone, the non-YouTube videos don't display on those devices.)

Got a little help from his buddy -- Thanks, Billy!

And these are the brakes. . . brake it up, brake it up, brake it up!

Those hands also touch patients at Grady, you know.

I have no idea how he figured this out during med school and residency.

Apparently, these are very big brakes. Neil said they were "YOUGE!"

To make the story even BETTER. . . . Neil and his wife Tamara were about to take a trip to Florida to see his mom and needed a rental car from the airport.  So lucky me--they decided to get the rental car at the time that I was due in from Pennsylvania! Not only do I get my brakes fixed, but I get a ride from the airport to boot?

Sa-weeet!

I said to my mentor one of his favorite Long Island-y sayings with as much New York attitude as I could muster:


"Who's betta dan you?!"

And I say that out loud in my car every time I stop without the sound of scrubbing, scraping, scrubby-scraping or squeaking.

Ha ha ha. . . .

So yes. Stacy H. is a makeshift movie critic. Jason S. plays a funky, beat-thumping clarinet in The Marching Abominable. I have mad skills with a double dutch rope and can even free-style rap if given the right beat, enough days of vacation and enough liquid courage. And my mentor, Neil?  Well he can both slam dunk on an eighteen year old hoop star in the Jewish Community Center and also replace the transmission on your hooptie in one day.

All between seeing patients and teaching medical students and residents. Don't let the white coats fol you. We are Jacks and Jills of many trades--not just the one you see in the hospital or the clinic.

And this? This is very necessary if you ask me. My mentor sets a great example of that which, in addition to my new brakes, I deeply appreciate. Yeah. . . I guess my whole point is . . . to see the humanity in our patients and their lives, we must first have lives of our own. Lives that include salsa lessons or trips to Cozumel. Lives that involve singing a capella in a quartet on Wednesdays and teaching boot camp to twenty baby boomers before heading to work every morning. Working on your mentee's Volvo in between giving her advice on teaching during her first stint as a visiting profesora all the way to screaming as a soccer-slash-swim-slash-basketball mom, taking up sculpting and writing a quirky little blog. And of course. . . . it's up to us to be mature enough to balance all of these things the best we can.

Which reminds me. . . .

When I was in Pittsburgh, I was talking to someone wise who said, "The whole term 'work-life balance' suggests that to do it well, life must always win. But you know? Sometimes work wins and that's okay. And sometimes life wins. I think 'manage' is a better word. I'm not sure it's ever perfectly balanced." That was some good food for thought and a good word, too. I liked that take on it and think it applies to this and all of the things we do inside, outside and in-between our professional lives. For us doctors, all of it needs to be swirled together to make us remember that we, too,  are people. . . and to allow us to always remember that we are caring for people. . .yes people, too.


I still don't know what Dr. Chris was up to on those Wednesdays when the pediatrician's office was closed. But something tells me it was a hell of a lot more than just reading journals and playing golf.

Mmm hmmmm. . . .

***
Happy Friday.


And now playing on my mental iPod. . . . . sorry, I couldn't resist!



. . .and of course, The Marching Abominable! Go Jason!



and last but not least. . . .proof that in my forties I'm nice with the double dutch ropes--STILL. :)

Top Ten: Mentor-ific Part #1

Telemachus and Mentor

One of the first things people tell you when you take a faculty position in medical education is this: "Get yourself a mentor."  It doesn't matter if you're a clinician educator, a clinician researcher or both. At some point somebody is going to catch you at the coffee maker and ask you all nonchalantly:

"So. . . .who's mentoring you?"

This is the point where you break out in a cold sweat. Unless, of course, you have a clear idea in your head exactly who that person is.  Maybe you're so savvy that it's more than one person, even. But if you are like many fairly junior folks. . . .that answer isn't as clear as you'd like for it to be.

Here's why. Many institutions help you identify a mentor right of the rip. Someone looks at you and your accomplishments and serves as a professional "match.com" for you and your future.  The problem is. . . as well meaning as these arrangements are, ofttimes it doesn't result in "eharmony."

And so. You give that name that was given to you whenever someone asks, but secretly you kind of recoil because there hasn't been the kind of magic you'd been hoping for.

Um yeah.

I know that some professional person somewhere is reading this thinking, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"  Yes, because it's true.

Hold up.  A few of you might be like, "What do you mean mentor? Like why must I have one of those? Is it like having a guru? Because if it's that, I'll pass, thanks."

Alright, so check it. Back in the Greek mythology day, Odysseus (as in the dude behind "The Odyssey") had this right hand man named Mentor (yes, this was the dude's real name.) Anyways, Odysseus had some big things going on and by big things I mean The Trojan War. Odysseus, being the responsible dude he was, was concerned about who would hold things down for him in his absence. And see? Remember when I said that all women need good women friends and all men need good men friends in their corners? Fortunately, The Odysseus had that in his running mate Mentor.

This just reminded me of my hospitalized patient who introduced me to his best friend who was visiting at the bedside one day. He said to me, "Hey Miss Manning, this man right here is my 'A-alike!'"

And of course, I asked this patient who happened to be a New York transplant, "He's your 'A-alike?'"

In unison they both laughed out loud and said, "Yeah, 'cause we B-alike and we C-alike."

Yes, I digress but the point of telling you that was. . .uhh. . .nothing really.

Ha.

Okay, so Odysseus had a son who was the apple of his eye named Telemachus, and he needed somebody to keep an eye on his boy while he was away. Even though Telemachus wasn't like a baby or anything, this was necessary because his father was kind of a big deal. So, in a way, Mentor was kind of like having secret service for the Obama girls but like, before the secret service was invented.

You still with me? Good.

So the story goes on, a lot of stuff goes down, but the bottom line is that Odysseus' A-alike Mentor held down the fort big time and proved to be a great guide to Telemachus. When it was all over, Telemachus probably said, "''Preciate you" to Mentor and Mentor, like any good mentor, just smiled all proud-like and replied by saying something poignant like, "Ah, my lad. . . . when you succeed, I succeed."

Anyways. This is where that whole word comes from in the English language. The gnarly thing about the story of Mentor is that he wasn't just a babysitter. He was wise counsel, a cheer section, a coach, and a trusted confidant. And although Telemachus had a good father who could serve in that capacity most of the time, it ended up being good to have someone else in that role as well.

So I say all this to say. . .I think good mentors help us to get close to our full potential. We all need good mentors to nudge us, advise us and sometimes taze us into doing what we need to do. The most effective mentors coach, inspire and lead by example. It took me a minute (a Grady miiiii-nute) to recognize and identify my mentors in medical education. And man, am I glad that I finally did!

Haven't found one yet? Or don't realize who yours are? Never fear because today, in the first installment of my Mentor-ific series, I bring you:


The Top Ten Ways to know a GREAT mentor when you see one.
Use this to help guide you to the promised man or wo-man.  (Not in the romantic sense but in the mentor sense, alright?)

Drumroll please. . . . . .

#10  --  R-E-S-P-E-C-T

A mentor that's right for you is someone that you respect. Now, this is trickier than you might imagine. Just because someone is a rock star professionally doesn't mean that you'll fully respect them. Perhaps you don't like the way he or she speaks to his or her administrative assistant or even they never leave work to be with their family.  Whatever it  is, if there's a disconnect with your ability to feel genuine respect for the person, it's probably not a good fit.

#9  --   PRODUCTIVE

It's kind of ideal to have a mentor who has actually done some of the things that you aspire to do. Don't confuse that for EXACTLY the things that you want to do.

Case in point:  My main professional mentor is Neil W., who happens to have some interests that don't exactly mirror my own. But. He is a highly accomplished teacher on the local, national and even international levels. His teaching style is quite different than my own, too. And that's fine. Because he is very, very productive and helps me to push harder both through his encouragement and his example. Plus he's a kick ass teacher, which I always aspire to be. I respect that. It works.


#8 --  AVAILABLE

Doesn't matter how amazing of a fit a person is for you if they don't have time for you. Some folks are well-meaning but ridiculously busy. Too busy to reply to your emails or your phone calls. And if that's the case? Regrettably, it's probably not a good fit.

There are some times when the mentee falls short and isn't assertive or prepared enough. This might leave said busy potential mentor less than enthusiastic about making time for them. But when it's not that, then at some point you just have to cut your losses and keep it moving.

Yes you are published in the highest tiered rock star journals and you present at the biggest deal conferences every year. But you won't call me back so . . . . oh well.

#7 -- WISE

A great mentor has been around the block enough to have gained some wisdom here and there. Sometimes you need to turn to your mentor for insight on what to do when those paths diverge in a yellow wood. It helps if they don't have to use an 8-ball to give you some advice.

#6 -- EXAMPLE

Those I identify as mentors are people who I consider role models. Not just professionally, either. I like knowing that, yes, you work hard but that you also go on vacation with your family or take a cooking class with your husband on Tuesdays after work. No, you don't need to be perfect. Just working to achieve some sort of balance, you know? It also helps if you're nice.

By the way--I gave a speech once called "Let your life be a mentor."  It was about how even when folks don't know you personally, they can be mentored by your example and the lessons in your life. I am mentored, for example, by Angella L. on many things. She is a mom and professional and a wife and when I read her writings, I get guidance. That's just a little bit of food for thought.

#5 -- UNSELFISH

I'm sure Mentor had a whole bunch of things he needed to do while Odysseus was gone to the war. Even though it is technically a myth and was technically waaaaaay back when, I know for sure that not that much has changed in the world since then. Real talk? Time is a precious thing.  This is why many people would much rather write a check toward food for the homeless than going to a shelter and actually feeding them. Time. Energy. Commitment. 

It takes an unselfish person to spend time focusing energy on someone other than themselves. Exceptional mentors are willing to sacrifice their time, ideas, and energy to bring out the best in you.

Oh,  and don't be fooled. Sometimes productive mentees find themselves working with people who seem unselfish. Ask yourself a question: Would this person still be as interested in working with me if they weren't last author on all of my papers in their field or if I wasn't completing the manuscripts that were sitting on their desk for the last five years? If the answer isn't an immediate absolutely yes, then know that the relationship could be difficult to sustain.

#4 --  INSPIRATION

Mentors come in all shapes and sizes.  Some serve as "coaches" -- kind of like what surgeon Atul Gawande, M.D. wrote about in his lovely piece called "Personal Best" in The New Yorker. They stand on the sidelines watching you and telling you how to improve your technique. They come up with ideas that you never thought of, point out strengths and weaknesses that never occur to you, and. . . .they just. . . .they just invigorate you.

One of my mentors who serves in this capacity is a Grady doctor named Carlos D.  Carlos is quite possibly the busiest, most hard-working person I know. But he does all of the things he does with such zeal, man. He teaches with zeal. Treats patients with zeal. And even responds to my most simple text messages with a spunk that often makes me laugh out loud.  I learn so much from watching him and listening to him. And though he is not my mentor in the formal sense I count him as one because he makes me better.

There's a whole movement about peer-mentoring that I have to mention here, too. Many of my peers in medicine hype me up so much! I watch them teach or talk or do what they do and I feel invigorated. Ready to try something new.  That list is long. But I count these people as the swirling moons around me that serve in a mentoring role, too.


#3  -- NO COMPETE CLAUSE

Your mentor should NOT be in competition with you. Period.

#2 -- FUN

Mentor-mentee relationships can be time consuming. It sure can be painful to spend all that time with someone who's a stick in the mud.  When I meet with my mentor Neil W. we spend at least 70% of the time laughing out loud. It's productive, yes. But always fun.

Okay, except for the last chapter we wrote together. That wasn't fun. But he did laugh at all of my jokes regarding how un-fun I found that whole process. And the reason he insisted I do it was because he thought it would help me professionally. (He also helped a WHOLE lot with the hard parts which takes me back to number 5.)

#1  -- GENUINE INTEREST IN YOU.

Not what you can do. Not how fast you write. Not how willing you are to work long hours. And not just what you can do to make them look good.

You.

They remember that your son is turning five and they fly back from wherever they were to be at his birthday party because it's important to you. (Yes, I remembered that, Neil.)  They want to hear your ideas and have the patience to help you flesh them out. They take the time to look at your unique qualities and try hard to come up with the best ways to utilize them.  They know when to push you and when to back off because they've taken the time to get to know you.

In other words, they care. About you. You.  Even if you don't have great comic timing. Even if you got a 'B' on the medicine clerkship or if you didn't get awarded that big grant from the NIH. They still make room for you in their schedule and start that meeting off with simple things like:

"How are you? How was Harry's birthday? Are the kids out of school yet? Have you ever eaten at Antico Pizza?"

And then they get down to business. I think everyone knows that there is a very fine line between business and pleasure. It sure helps when it gets blurred.



Oh and mentoring isn't just a doctor thing or medicine thing either.  Many of my mentors coach me in life and motherhood and everythinghood as well. And. Many people mentor you without even knowing it. Kind of cool, isn't it?

Bottom line? The best mentors get it. And they get you. 

That's all I've got today.

(Stay tuned for more on my mentor Neil W. in the next installment. Ha ha ha. . .)

***
Happy Hump Day, y'all.



Now playing on your mental iPod. . .  If you're lucky, your mentor just might teach you how to Dougie. . . but don't count on it. Don't worry, this is not a requirement.