A picture, they say, paints 1000 words.

Throughout my practice I have tried to draw as many pictures as I can for my patients. I find that the time I spend in the office often drawing complex anatomical relationships for patients pays off for me in the form of needing to talk less and pays off for the patient in an increased understanding. I find a simple picture drawn for a patient along with an explanation is the easiest way to convey complex surgical techniques and anatomy to help patients understand what we do during specific procedures.

The problem is that I don’t draw nearly enough. It takes time and, as I explain to my patients before I start drawing anything, I failed eighth grade art class. My drawings and diagrams would never win any awards, and outside of the context of a clinic visit, probably shouldn’t be shown.

But, I have shown my work to others. There is a YouTube video I have on my YouTube channel of my drawing a hydrocele, a collection of fluid around the testicle. It's an example of the types of drawing I do for patients. You can find that here: https://youtu.be/06euCzs7uAQ

Our job as physician communicators is that same job that any scientist has in communication. Be brief, be clear, be simple. Don’t talk too much. Carve every word so you say exactly what you mean.  Lastly, stealing from the great physicist Albert Einstein, make it as simple as possible, but no simpler.

I understand how my patients must feel when I provide them with a simple drawing, even though I am not a trained artist. The picture remains even though nobody remembers exactly what I said. 

In medicine we deal with seemingly complex things, difficult to understand, stuff that fills textbook after textbook with big, and unfamiliar words. We treat patients with sophisticated lab tests, fancy equipment, and a knowledge that takes years to get. 

But we must remember that doctor means “teacher” and our job as doctors is to teach, instruct, and educate. To do this we must be brief and clear and as simple as possible. 

And a picture often paints a thousand words. I should draw more of them. And so should you. Even if we failed eighth grade art we should hope that our patients leave our office saying, "how can something this beautiful not be right?"