You can observe a lot by watching
TEACHING STUDENTS TO OBSERVE
Unfortunately, detecting detail is difficult. It is also very difficult to teach. For the past few months I’ve been asking astute clinicians how they observe, and most of them seem befuddled, as if I had asked which muscles they contract in order to walk. They just walk. And they just observe.
So, how can we rekindle this important but underappreciated component of the physician’s skill set? First of all, by becoming cognizant of its fundamental role in medicine. Second, by accepting that this is something that cannot be easily tested by single-best- answer, black-and-white, multiple-choice exams. Recognizing the complexity of clinical skills reminds us that not all that counts in medicine can be counted, and not all that can be counted counts. Yet it also provides a hurdle, since testing typically drives curriculum. If we cannot assess observation, how can we reincorporate it in the curriculum? Lastly, we need to regain ownership of the teaching of this skill. No art instructor can properly identify and interpret clinical findings. Hence, physicians ought to teach it. In the end, learning how to properly observe is a personal and lifelong effort. As Osler put it, “There is no more difficult art to acquire than the art of observation.”21
Leonardo used to quip that “There are three classes of people: those who see, those who see when they are shown, and those who do not see.”22 Yet this time Leonardo might have been wrong. There are really only two kinds of people: those who have been taught how to observe and those who have not. Leonardo was lucky enough to have been apprenticed to an artist whose nickname was Verrocchio, which resembles the Italian words vero occhio, a “fine eye.” Without Verrocchio, even Leonardo might not have become such a skilled observer. How many Verrocchios are around today?