the art of medicine
During my third week as a morgue intern at the Franklin County Coroner’s office, the technician asked if I wanted to help by removing the pancreas. I hesitated—I had always personally struggled to locate the pancreas while viewing the body cavity. Unlike the lungs, liver, or kidneys—all organs which I had removed before—the pancreas has few familiarizing characteristics and tends to blend in with the surrounding tissues. Sensing my hesitation, she assured me, “You just have to feel for it. It feels denser than the tissue around it.” A ring of familiarity sounded in my head—only a few days before, my ceramics professor demonstrated how to throw a cylinder on the pottery wheel. He stressed the importance of achieving uniform walls and using your fingers to feel if the cylinder was even from top to bottom.
Medicine and art—this was not the first time I experienced these two disciplines working hand-in-hand. During the first week of my oil painting class, in fact, I recall a student attempting to clean his brushes with water instead of solvent, and the water simply gliding across the paint on the brush. I knew he would experience great difficulty in this task; the principles of solubility had been nailed into my head throughout my undergraduate career. This led me to ponder if the scientists who discovered the hydrophobic effect that determines cell membranes may also have taken up oil painting in their spare time.
Art often revolves around subjectivity, with its main purpose to evoke an emotional reaction from the viewer. When I design a dress on paper, no rule states that the finished product has to look exactly like my original sketch. Conversely, we are taught that science relies on clear-cut evidence and statistics, its main purpose to seek out an answer. A simple mathematical equation will tell me how many moles of product I will yield when my reaction is carried out perfectly in an organic chemistry lab. Inevitably, it has long been established that medicine relies on scientific understanding to function, but does this mean that medicine is strictly a science? Many who answer “yes” may have one-sided opinions because, of course, future physicians are not required to learn pottery or oil painting. However, those well-versed in both the arts and sciences understand their indispensable relationship.
First and foremost, art is vital in how we understand and communicate medicine. For instance, Hippocrates invented medical practices still utilized today when the structure of DNA and cellular structures still remained a mystery. His perspective on medicine relied on his creative mind and his ability to perceive visual phenomena in the human body. Similarly, illustrators of biology textbooks understand anatomical structures but also possess the ability to accurately depict them for the learner. It is clear that historically, art has been beneath the surface in medical education.
In my personal life, art has served me countless times in helping me understand difficult physiological concepts. As a terrified child about to have my tonsils removed, my doctor calmed me by drawing a diagram, so I could understand what they looked like, where they could be found, and how they would be removed. Sixteen years later, while studying for my MCAT, I used my own diagram to understand the flow of blood through the ventricles and atria of the heart. Surely, I have used my kinesthetic awareness gained through art to better my understanding of medicine, such as feeling for a pancreas or fractured spine while in the morgue. And over time, I have challenged myself to find new ways to combine my passions for both art and medicine: volunteering to construct ostomy bag covers to help patients feel more comfortable in their bodies or incorporating anatomy into my fashion designs that walk the runway. Additionally, the leadership roles that I have acquired by being involved in artistic organizations, such as the Fashion Production Association, have honed vital communication and leadership skills that will help me in my future career.
The art of medicine, filled with nuances of interworking parts, requires a creative mind. Diagnosing a disease demands physicians to consider a multitude of interconnecting factors like genetic makeup and lifestyle choices, and science alone cannot treat and heal the body sufficiently. Art can help us communicate complex and often frightening diagnoses to our patients, and help them cope with these issues the way I did as a child. Most importantly, it can help us connect the complexities of basic sciences to the humanity and compassion of being a physician. As an artist, my creations add to my own self-awareness, expressing emotion that is difficult to communicate verbally. At the very least, art can help us bond with our patients by discovering commonalities and by personifying us to the non- science community. Art and medicine. The art of medicine. I have sought to grow in both, and will continue in the future, as a lifelong artist and as a physician.
Medicine and art—this was not the first time I experienced these two disciplines working hand-in-hand. During the first week of my oil painting class, in fact, I recall a student attempting to clean his brushes with water instead of solvent, and the water simply gliding across the paint on the brush. I knew he would experience great difficulty in this task; the principles of solubility had been nailed into my head throughout my undergraduate career. This led me to ponder if the scientists who discovered the hydrophobic effect that determines cell membranes may also have taken up oil painting in their spare time.
Art often revolves around subjectivity, with its main purpose to evoke an emotional reaction from the viewer. When I design a dress on paper, no rule states that the finished product has to look exactly like my original sketch. Conversely, we are taught that science relies on clear-cut evidence and statistics, its main purpose to seek out an answer. A simple mathematical equation will tell me how many moles of product I will yield when my reaction is carried out perfectly in an organic chemistry lab. Inevitably, it has long been established that medicine relies on scientific understanding to function, but does this mean that medicine is strictly a science? Many who answer “yes” may have one-sided opinions because, of course, future physicians are not required to learn pottery or oil painting. However, those well-versed in both the arts and sciences understand their indispensable relationship.
First and foremost, art is vital in how we understand and communicate medicine. For instance, Hippocrates invented medical practices still utilized today when the structure of DNA and cellular structures still remained a mystery. His perspective on medicine relied on his creative mind and his ability to perceive visual phenomena in the human body. Similarly, illustrators of biology textbooks understand anatomical structures but also possess the ability to accurately depict them for the learner. It is clear that historically, art has been beneath the surface in medical education.
In my personal life, art has served me countless times in helping me understand difficult physiological concepts. As a terrified child about to have my tonsils removed, my doctor calmed me by drawing a diagram, so I could understand what they looked like, where they could be found, and how they would be removed. Sixteen years later, while studying for my MCAT, I used my own diagram to understand the flow of blood through the ventricles and atria of the heart. Surely, I have used my kinesthetic awareness gained through art to better my understanding of medicine, such as feeling for a pancreas or fractured spine while in the morgue. And over time, I have challenged myself to find new ways to combine my passions for both art and medicine: volunteering to construct ostomy bag covers to help patients feel more comfortable in their bodies or incorporating anatomy into my fashion designs that walk the runway. Additionally, the leadership roles that I have acquired by being involved in artistic organizations, such as the Fashion Production Association, have honed vital communication and leadership skills that will help me in my future career.
The art of medicine, filled with nuances of interworking parts, requires a creative mind. Diagnosing a disease demands physicians to consider a multitude of interconnecting factors like genetic makeup and lifestyle choices, and science alone cannot treat and heal the body sufficiently. Art can help us communicate complex and often frightening diagnoses to our patients, and help them cope with these issues the way I did as a child. Most importantly, it can help us connect the complexities of basic sciences to the humanity and compassion of being a physician. As an artist, my creations add to my own self-awareness, expressing emotion that is difficult to communicate verbally. At the very least, art can help us bond with our patients by discovering commonalities and by personifying us to the non- science community. Art and medicine. The art of medicine. I have sought to grow in both, and will continue in the future, as a lifelong artist and as a physician.
art & science.
Use of Microscope Images in Textile Designs
Anatomical Watercolor Paintings
