The Hidden Curriculum:Lessons Medicine Taught Me Beyond The Books

I once believed that if you studied hard and long enough, you could learn everything about anything.

I was wrong.

Books aren’t enough. Lectures aren’t enough. Experience is—and will always be—the greatest teacher of all.

My work as a doctor has taught me lessons about life and medicine that I never learned, and could never have learned, in medical school.

I want to share some of those lessons with you.

Lesson 1: Knowing How and When to Fight (Facing Confrontation)

I don’t mean throwing punches—I’m talking about standing your ground and pushing hard for something you believe in. You see, I used to be a master of shrugging things off.

Whenever I encountered resistance to solving a problem, I’d push a little, but as soon as confrontation arose, I’d back down and walk away.

You can’t do that in medicine. Lives are at stake.

I had to learn how to confront stubborn—and sometimes rude—resistance. I also had to learn to recognize when I was the one being stubborn.

Through it all, I discovered my own triggers and weaknesses—and, more importantly, how to manage them effectively.

Tips for Handling Confrontation in Medicine

• Patient First, Always: Your focus must remain on the patient. Leave your ego and the need to prove yourself at the door—they should never take priority.
• Facts Over Feelings: Avoid arguing from emotion, as it often leads to emotional reactions from others. Instead, present your case with evidence and logic, delivered respectfully.
• Know When to Yield: It’s okay to be wrong. Recognize when someone else has more expertise or insight than you. Listen and learn with humility.
• Utilize Conflict Resolution Skills: Seek common ground, work to de-escalate tensions, and reframe issues to promote collaboration instead of division.

Lesson 2: Feelings Over Facts

I know, I know—I just said "facts over feelings" in the last point, but bear with me. This is something entirely different.

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend reading 'Being Mortal' by Atul Gawande. That book, along with my experiences in medicine, opened my eyes to the complexities of end-of-life care.

I remember one case vividly—a child, no older than two, who was gravely ill. Despite administering the best treatments at our disposal, she didn’t improve. I stood with several seniors and peers around her cot, deeply engrossed in a clinical discussion about her condition.

Not far from us sat her mother, quiet and still, her face resolute—like a piece of Renaissance sculpture. Her hope had slipped away long before ours, and long before her child passed. When we finally told her that her daughter was gone, she smiled. It wasn’t a joyful smile, but a sad, quiet, and strangely thankful one.

That moment left an indelible mark on me. It reminded me that feelings—grief, acceptance, relief—are an inseparable part of the not-so-simple discussions surrounding life and death.

I still wrestle with the idea of euthanasia, but if medicine has taught me one thing, it’s that facts can guide us, but feelings help us navigate the most profound moments of human existence.

Lesson 3: How to Have Fun When Stressed

I’m not an expert at this—not yet. Many of my colleagues surpass me in this regard.

Medicine has undeniably taught me how to relax and even find moments of joy in high-pressure situations.

Here’s a snapshot of how my typical labor ward shift unfolds:

• 6:30–7:00 AM: Arrive at work
• 7:30–8:00 AM: Debrief with the previous team on duty
• 8:00 AM–12:00 PM: Work. At this point, I’m all business—laser-focused.
• 12:00–1:00 PM: Lunch and rest
• 1:00–5:00 PM: Back to work
• 5:00–6:00 PM: Dinner and rest
• 6:00 PM–7:00 AM: Work

That final stretch? It can feel absolutely grueling. Sure, there are breaks here and there, but the sheer length and intensity of the shift can wear you down. That’s when I let my serious face slip and start doing little things to lighten the stress.

I hum or sing songs as I walk around attending to patients. I crack jokes with patients and staff. Sometimes, I even dance a little when I think no one is watching. I allow myself to have fun—while still working hard, of course.

It was during one of these moments that a patient looked up at me and said, “I didn’t know you were a fun person.” Apparently, I had worn a very serious game face that morning.

Since then, I’ve made a conscious effort to be more relaxed, even earlier in the day. I’ve learned not to let stress consume me, to find small joys in the chaos, and to focus on the positives and what I can control in the moment.

Sometimes, a little humor, music, or a lighthearted comment can go a long way—not just for you but for the people around you too.

There are countless lessons I’ve picked up over the years, but these are the ones that have resonated with me the most. I hope you enjoyed reading this and found it both meaningful and helpful. Be sure to come back soon—I’ll have more waiting for you!