Written by David McKay & edited by Emily Seeto
Introduction
If mental gymnastics were an Olympic sport, medical students would all be decorated athletes. The roundabout justifications we use to pretend we’re productive while watching vaguely medical-themed tiktoks at 3am would easily make us Olympic gold material. On the other hand though, there are a couple of seemingly unproductive activities that have a strong case for being a form of productive medical education. One of these, in my genuine belief, is binge-watching medical TV dramas.
Depicted: The cast of Grey’s anatomy. Not to be confused with the textbook.
It may not be as effective as churning out anki cards while a near-lethal dose of caffeine courses through your system, but (arguably) there is benefit to watching these mass-produced shows. One of the first things I was told before starting medicine – by a friend’s mum who was an imposing and experienced nurse – was that Grey’s anatomy should be mandatory viewing for all incoming healthcare professionals. Personally, I would not go so far as to call it mandatory. In all honesty, I would hesitate to even recommend it, but I do think there’s an unexpected benefit you get when you watch this show – the benefit of motivation. There is an authentic excitement you get as a medical student when you watch this medical TV shlock, knowing that in a handful of years you too will be running through hospital wards and having to deal with your own little escapades (though likely filled with slightly less attractive people).
There is definitely a non-zero amount of medical students who were swayed to pursue medicine as a career on the basis of the motivational impact of these sub-par medical dramas – I say this with a degree of confidence because (embarrassingly) I can count myself as one of these students. I had a debilitating addiction to House MD, specifically during the formative years where young and confused high school students are meant to choose a degree to carry them through the rest of their life. Even though I was aware the show itself was blatantly unrealistic (which became obvious when Dr. House started breaking into people’s homes for diagnostic clues), the allure of solving diagnostic puzzles as perpetuated by these horribly inaccurate TV shows was a non-negligible factor in my decision to try and get into medical school. Unfortunately though, the only real educational benefit you get from watching House MD is learning the exact traits of a poor doctor who would be immediately fired in the real world.
Dr. House and Wilson. One of the best dynamics in all of television – clearly evident in the absurd number of fanfiction written about these two guys.
Admittedly, my argument for the educational utility of medical TV drama looks pretty weak so far (and a good example of the mental gymnastics I mentioned earlier). I concede that some medical TV dramas are pretty horrible. Especially The Good Doctor. I hate The Good Doctor. But on the other hand, there are some shows (specifically those written by doctors) that genuinely have a benefit to watching them – though not the benefit you might expect. While I don’t think Grey’s anatomy should be mandatory viewing, I seriously believe that Scrubs should be firmly implanted into the UNSW medical curriculum. The human side of pursuing medicine as a career is rarely explained to medical students, and often only hinted at through random remarks from jaded doctors. For this reason, a show like Scrubs that so eloquently and accurately explains the social cost and challenges of working in healthcare is vital, especially to combat the increasing glorification of medicine as some kind of perfect and noble profession. It may not be education in the traditional sense, but it is an honest reminder of the neverending challenges we’ll face down the line, and being reminded that we aren’t alone in wrestling the difficulties of medicine (even as students) is genuinely comforting.
So, does watching medical TV drama count as studying? Probably not, but I think I’ll continue to pretend it does.