Stories' Healing Impact

By Madeline Reed | Published on  

For the past few years, I’ve had the incredible opportunity to work as a writer in residence at the Stanford Medical School. It was there that I met Audrey Shafer, a remarkable woman who is both a poet and an anesthesiologist. She had founded the Medicine and the Muse Program, aiming to bring back the humanities into medical education and training. My role was to teach writing, storytelling, and communication skills to healthcare workers, including physicians, nurses, and medical students.

Initially, I expected to receive an abundance of essays on dissecting cadavers and poems about the spleen. And I did receive some of those. However, I was also confronted with a wave of essays that filled me with anxiety and concern. My students were pouring their hearts out about their crushing anxiety, the immense pressure to succeed, their mental health diagnoses, and even their suicide attempts. They felt alone and wondered if they had chosen the right profession, despite not even being doctors yet.

These revelations shook me to the core. It made me realize that physicians’ humanity and emotional well-being were rarely acknowledged or integrated into their training. The vulnerability of sharing mental health diagnoses, for instance, could even be detrimental to their careers. Shockingly, nearly 30 percent of American medical students experience depression, and one in 10 have thought suicide. The situation worsens for practicing physicians, with high rates of depression and one of the highest suicide rates among all professions in the United States.

This is not only a cause for concern within the medical community but for all of us as well. Doctors hold one of the most crucial roles in society, and if their well-being is compromised, it affects all of us. It became clear to me that we needed to take action.

Although I am not a mental health professional, as a writer, I recognized the power of storytelling and providing a platform for healthcare workers to express their daily frustrations, fears, joys, and surprises. Through the Medicine and the Muse Program, we began organizing storytelling workshops in various settings, including farms and other places with excellent food. We invited journalists, writers, producers, podcasters, and poets to teach writing, communication, and storytelling skills to the participants. This gave them an opportunity to practice vulnerability by sharing their stories aloud, reconnecting with their initial motivations for entering the medical field.

These storytelling sessions became a way for healthcare professionals to confront the stressful and messy realities of their chosen work. It was through these experiences that they realized their profession was more than just a job—it was a calling. Witnessing the transformation in my students was incredibly rewarding.

Today, I want to share with you a prescription, not from physicians, but for them. It’s a result of collaboration with my students who have experienced the power of storytelling firsthand. It is my firm belief that this prescription applies not only to doctors but also to professionals in any field who find themselves deeply committed to their work.

In our quest to make meaning and find beauty in the challenging aspects of our professions, we must hug the act of sharing vulnerable stories. It is akin to raising a flag up a flagpole—allowing others to see it, touch with it, and stand under it with us. Let me introduce you to one of my students, Maite Van Hentenryck.

Maite, despite being naturally shy, courageously shared her experience of having her leg amputated as a baby and how it shaped her perspective as a doctor. This act of vulnerability led to unexpected outcomes. Students with disabilities approached her, and together, they initiated a group advocating for more visibility and inclusion in medical training.

The term “creative” has often been reserved for specific professions like designers, architects, or artists. Personally, I find this term offensive and exclusionary. Creativity knows no boundaries or labels. In my work with physicians and medical students, I strive to remind them that regardless of their profession, they have the ability to make meaning, find beauty, and create even in the face of adversity.

Another student, Pablo Romano, bravely opened up about the loss of both his parents at a young age. Together, we launched a live storytelling series called Talk Rx, providing a platform for his peers to express their most vulnerable thoughts and feelings. It has become a safe space for them.

Arifeen Rahman, a second-year medical student, had initially believed that her stories lacked significance. However, her talk about being a Bangladeshi American girl winning an essay contest held by the Daughters of the American Revolution highlighted the complexities of representing the new American dream. It challenged the notion that her stories were unworthy and unimportant.

Life is fleeting, and what truly matters to me is the ability to connect with others and ease their sense of loneliness. Stories, in my experience, have the incredible power to achieve just that. They bridge gaps and foster understanding.

Through our work, we have observed significant positive changes. Participating students experienced a remarkable 36 to 51 percent decrease in distress, resembling the effects of a potent mental health drug. The benefits of these storytelling opportunities appear to last for at least a month, if not longer. Remarkably, every single participant has recommended these opportunities to their friends, recognizing their transformative potential.

However, beyond these statistics, the most remarkable outcome of our work has been the creation of a culture of vulnerability where none existed before. This culture enables doctors and other healthcare professionals to envision a different future—for themselves and their patients.

Maite’s aspiration to be the doctor who remembers birthdays, knows favorite colors and TV shows, and listens to patients with care reflects the essence of this cultural transformation. By emphasizing our shared humanity, we can ensure that our healers remain healthy enough to heal the rest of us.

In conclusion, the unspoken struggles of healthcare professionals demand our attention. By fostering a culture of storytelling and connection, we can begin to address the deep-rooted issues within medical education and practice. Communication infused with vulnerability and compassion is undeniably the best medicine we have. Together, let us strive for change and support those who dedicate their lives to caring for others.

In my time as a writer in residence at Stanford Medical School, I had the privilege of working closely with Audrey Shafer, a remarkable woman who is both a poet and an anesthesiologist. Audrey had initiated the Medicine and the Muse Program, an endeavor aimed at reintroducing humanities into medical education and training. My role in this program was to teach writing, storytelling, and communication skills to healthcare professionals, including physicians, nurses, and medical students.

Initially, I anticipated receiving numerous essays about cadaver dissections and poems dedicated to the intricacies of the human spleen. And indeed, I did receive some of those. However, what caught me off guard were the essays that spoke of anxiety, overwhelming pressure to succeed, mental health diagnoses, and even suicide attempts. These stories filled me with deep concern, as these aspiring healthcare professionals hadn’t even embarked on their medical careers yet.

This realization struck a chord within me. It became evident that the emotional well-being and humanity of physicians were seldom acknowledged or integrated into their training. Sharing vulnerabilities, including mental health diagnoses, could have severe consequences on their professional lives. Shockingly, nearly 30 percent of American medical students experience depression, and one in 10 have thought suicide. The situation worsens for practicing physicians, who face high rates of depression and one of the highest suicide rates among all professions in the United States.

This issue goes beyond the medical community—it affects all of us. Physicians bear the responsibility of our well-being, and if they themselves are in distress, it inevitably impacts the quality of care they provide. It became clear that we needed to take action.

While I am not a mental health professional, my work as a writer allowed me to recognize the power of storytelling and providing a platform for healthcare workers to express their innermost thoughts and emotions. In response, the Medicine and the Muse Program began organizing storytelling workshops in various settings, offering participants the opportunity to practice vulnerability and reconnect with their initial motivations for entering the medical field.

These storytelling sessions took place in unique environments, such as farms, accompanied by delicious food. We invited journalists, writers, producers, podcasters, and poets to share their expertise and teach writing, communication, and storytelling skills. The workshops fostered an environment where participants felt safe to share their stories aloud, allowing them to confront the challenging realities they would inevitably face in their medical careers.

The transformation I witnessed in my students was truly remarkable. Through the act of storytelling and vulnerability, they rediscovered their passion for medicine and gained a deeper understanding of their calling.

Today, I want to share with you a prescription—not from physicians but for them. Together with my students, we have developed a powerful approach rooted in vulnerability and storytelling. This approach extends beyond the medical profession and applies to anyone deeply committed to their work.

We must recognize that creativity knows no bounds and is not limited to a specific group of people. Regardless of our chosen professions, we all have the ability to find meaning, beauty, and create in the face of adversity. This holds true for my student Maite Van Hentenryck.

Maite, despite her inherent shyness, bravely shared her experience of having her leg amputated as a baby, which profoundly shaped her perspective as a doctor. Her vulnerability opened doors she never expected. Students with disabilities approached her, and together, they initiated a group advocating for more visibility and inclusion in medical training.

Let’s challenge the notion that some stories are more valuable than others. Each of us carries stories worth sharing, even if we initially doubt their significance. One of my students, Pablo Romano, took the brave step of publicly discussing the loss of both his parents at a young age. Together, we launched Talk Rx, a live storytelling series, providing a platform for his peers to express their most vulnerable thoughts and feelings.

Arifeen Rahman, another student, once believed that her stories were inconsequential. However, her talk about being a Bangladeshi American girl who won an essay contest held by the Daughters of the American Revolution shed light on the complexities of representing the new American dream. It challenged the notion that her stories were unworthy or irrelevant.

In conclusion, the unspoken struggles faced by healthcare professionals call for our attention. By fostering a culture of vulnerability, storytelling, and connection, we can begin to address the deep-rooted issues within medical education and practice. Communication that is infused with compassion and vulnerability is undeniably the best medicine we have. Together, let us strive for change and support those who dedicate their lives to caring for others.

As someone who had the incredible opportunity to work as a writer in residence at Stanford Medical School, I had the pleasure of collaborating with an extraordinary woman named Audrey Shafer. Audrey, a poet and an anesthesiologist, founded the Medicine and the Muse Program, which aimed to reintroduce humanities into medical education and training. My role in this program was to teach writing, storytelling, and communication skills to healthcare workers, including physicians, nurses, and medical students.

When I first embarked on this journey, I anticipated receiving a plethora of essays and poems about clinical experiences and anatomical wonders. And while I did receive some of those, what truly caught my attention were the essays that delved into the deep anxieties, pressures, and mental health challenges faced by my students. These heartfelt expressions of vulnerability left me both anxious and concerned, as these aspiring healthcare professionals were still navigating their way through the early stages of their medical careers.

This realization struck a chord within me. It became clear that the emotional well-being and humanity of physicians were rarely acknowledged or integrated into their training. The act of sharing vulnerabilities, such as mental health diagnoses, could have detrimental consequences on their professional trajectory. Astonishingly, nearly 30 percent of American medical students experience depression, with one in 10 having thought suicide. The situation is even more disheartening for practicing physicians, who endure high rates of depression and one of the highest suicide rates across all professions in the United States.

This issue extends far beyond the medical community—it affects all of us. Physicians bear the responsibility of our well-being, and if they themselves are burdened with distress, it inevitably impacts the quality of care they provide. It became evident that a change was desperately needed.

While I may not possess the expertise of a mental health professional, my experiences as a writer have taught me the power of storytelling and providing a platform for healthcare workers to express their innermost thoughts and emotions. In response, the Medicine and the Muse Program initiated storytelling workshops in various settings, creating opportunities for participants to practice vulnerability and reconnect with their original motivations for entering the medical field.

These storytelling sessions took place in unique venues, such as farms adorned with tantalizing food. We invited journalists, writers, producers, podcasters, and poets to share their knowledge and teach writing, communication, and storytelling skills. These workshops fostered an environment where participants felt safe to share their stories aloud, allowing them to confront the complex realities they would inevitably encounter in their medical careers.

The transformation I witnessed within my students was nothing short of extraordinary. Through the act of storytelling and hugging vulnerability, they rediscovered their passion for medicine and gained a profound understanding of their calling.

Today, I want to present you with a prescription—an antidote not prescribed by physicians, but rather intended for them. Together with my students, we have crafted a powerful approach rooted in vulnerability and storytelling. This approach transcends the boundaries of the medical profession, extending to anyone who is wholeheartedly devoted to their work.

Let us reject the notion that creativity and storytelling are confined to specific individuals or professions. Regardless of our chosen paths, we all possess the capacity to find meaning, beauty, and create even in the face of adversity. One of my exceptional students, Maite Van Hentenryck, embodies this philosophy.

Maite, despite her inherent shyness, summoned the courage to share her journey of having her leg amputated as a baby, a pivotal experience that shaped her perspective as a doctor. Her vulnerability opened doors she never anticipated. Students with disabilities approached her, and together, they initiated a group advocating for increased visibility and inclusion in medical training.

It is essential that we challenge the notion that some stories hold more value than others. Each of us carries stories that are worthy of being shared, even if we initially doubt their significance. Another student, Pablo Romano, embarked on the courageous path of publicly discussing the loss of both his parents at a young age. Together, we launched Talk Rx, a live storytelling series that provides a platform for his peers to express their most vulnerable thoughts and feelings.

In conclusion, the unspoken struggles faced by healthcare professionals demand our unwavering attention. By fostering a culture of storytelling and connection, we can begin to address the deeply ingrained issues within medical education and practice. Communication infused with compassion and vulnerability represents the most potent medicine we possess. Together, let us strive for change and wholeheartedly support those who dedicate their lives to caring for others.

Throughout my time as a writer in residence at Stanford Medical School, I had the extraordinary opportunity to collaborate with Audrey Shafer, a truly remarkable individual who seamlessly weaves her roles as a poet and an anesthesiologist. Audrey’s vision led to the creation of the Medicine and the Muse Program, an initiative aimed at reintegrating humanities into medical education and training. In my role, I had the privilege of teaching writing, storytelling, and communication skills to healthcare workers, including physicians, nurses, and medical students.

Initially, I anticipated receiving essays and poems that delved into the technicalities of medical procedures and anatomical intricacies. And while I did receive a fair share of those, what truly struck me were the essays that delved into the deep-seated anxieties, overwhelming pressures, mental health diagnoses, and even suicide attempts shared by my students. These heartfelt expressions of vulnerability left me both concerned and deeply moved, as these aspiring healthcare professionals were still navigating the early stages of their medical careers.

It became abundantly clear to me that the emotional well-being and humanity of physicians were often overlooked or disregarded in their training. The act of sharing vulnerabilities, especially related to mental health, was met with potential career-ending consequences. Shockingly, close to 30 percent of American medical students face depression, and one in 10 has thought suicide. The situation is even more dire for practicing physicians, who grapple with high rates of depression and one of the highest suicide rates among all professions in the United States.

The impact of these struggles extends far beyond the medical community—it affects each and every one of us. Physicians bear the weight of our well-being, and if they themselves are burdened with distress, it inevitably impacts the quality of care they provide. It became increasingly evident that immediate action was necessary.

While I do not possess the expertise of a mental health professional, my experiences as a writer have taught me the transformative power of storytelling and providing a platform for healthcare workers to express their innermost thoughts and emotions. In response, the Medicine and the Muse Program organized storytelling workshops in diverse settings, creating opportunities for participants to grow vulnerability and reconnect with their initial motivations for entering the medical field.

These workshops took place in unconventional venues, such as farms adorned with delectable food, fostering an environment that encouraged participants to openly share their stories. We invited journalists, writers, producers, podcasters, and poets to share their wisdom and impart invaluable skills in writing, communication, and storytelling. Through these workshops, participants practiced vulnerability by sharing their stories aloud, enabling them to confront the challenging realities they would undoubtedly encounter in their medical careers.

The transformations I witnessed in my students were nothing short of remarkable. Through the power of storytelling and hugging vulnerability, they rediscovered their passion for medicine and gained a profound understanding of their calling.

Today, I am excited to share with you a prescription—an antidote crafted not by physicians but for them. Collaborating with my students, we have developed a powerful approach grounded in vulnerability and storytelling. This approach transcends the boundaries of the medical profession and applies to anyone who is deeply committed to their work.

Let us challenge the notion that creativity and storytelling belong exclusively to certain individuals or professions. Irrespective of our chosen paths, we all possess the capacity to find meaning, beauty, and create, even in the face of adversity. Maite Van Hentenryck, one of my exceptional students, shows this philosophy.

Maite, despite her inherent shyness, mustered the courage to share her experience of having her leg amputated as a baby—a pivotal experience that shaped her perspective as a doctor. Her vulnerability opened unexpected doors, as students with disabilities approached her, igniting a movement advocating for increased visibility and inclusion in medical training.

It is essential that we challenge the notion that some stories hold more value than others. Each of us carries stories that are worthy of being shared, even if we initially doubt their significance. Another remarkable student, Pablo Romano, embarked on the courageous journey of publicly discussing the loss of both parents at a young age. Together, we initiated Talk Rx, a live storytelling series that provides a platform for his peers to express their most vulnerable thoughts and feelings.

In conclusion, the unspoken struggles endured by healthcare professionals call for our unwavering attention. By fostering a culture of storytelling and connection, we can begin to address the deeply rooted issues within medical education and practice. Communication infused with compassion and vulnerability serves as the most potent medicine we possess. Together, let us strive for change and wholeheartedly support those who dedicate their lives to caring for others.

The power of vulnerability and storytelling in healthcare cannot be overstated. As I reflect on my experiences working with the Medicine and the Muse Program at Stanford Medical School, I am reminded of the profound impact that open communication and connection can have on the well-being of healthcare professionals.

By creating spaces for healthcare workers to share their stories, we are fostering a culture of empathy, compassion, and understanding. The unspoken struggles that physicians face, including anxiety, pressure, and mental health challenges, are given the attention they deserve. Through the act of storytelling, these brave individuals find solace, support, and a renewed sense of purpose.

The statistics speak volumes—nearly 30 percent of American medical students experience depression, and practicing physicians face high rates of depression and suicide. These numbers serve as a stark reminder that we need to prioritize the emotional well-being of those who dedicate their lives to caring for others.

The Medicine and the Muse Program, with its storytelling workshops and opportunities for vulnerability, has paved the way for change. Students have rediscovered their passion for medicine, formed communities of support, and initiated movements for inclusivity and visibility. The impact of these initiatives extends beyond the individual, reaching the very core of healthcare practice and patient care.

We must continue to challenge the notion that vulnerability is a weakness and that certain stories are insignificant. Every experience, every voice, matters. By hugging vulnerability, sharing our stories, and listening with compassion, we have the power to reshape healthcare education and practice.

In our collective pursuit of a more compassionate and human-centered healthcare system, let us remember the importance of fostering connection, understanding, and empathy. Let us recognize that the act of listening, storytelling, and supporting one another is not only beneficial for healthcare professionals but also for the patients they serve.

Together, we can redefine healthcare by placing the human experience at its very core. It is through the power of vulnerability and the art of storytelling that we can heal the healers and, in turn, grow a healthier and more compassionate society.