Dr. Jon Hallberg talks about the marriage of medicine and poetry

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MPR’s Tom Crann interviews Dr. Jon Hallberg about the intersection of poetry and medicine. Segment includes Halberg reading a William Carlos Williams poem, amongst others. Williams, sustained his medical practice throughout his writing career.

Transcript:

(00:00:00) This is all things considered on Minnesota Public Radio. I'm Tom crean April is National poetry month for a little while longer. At least when you might not know that one of this country's most prominent poets William, Carlos Williams sustained his medical practice throughout his writing career. In fact, there was even a competition named in his honor for medical students now here to talk about the intersection of poetry and medicine as our regular medical analyst for all things considered. Dr. John Hallberg. Hi John. Hi Tom.
(00:00:25) It's good to have you here as
(00:00:26) always and let's start with William Carlos Williams. I want you. To read a poem of his to begin. A lot of people might not have been familiar with the fact that he was a practicing obstetrician a my corrector general practice.
(00:00:38) But absolutely in fact, he had a lot of labels attached to him. He was sort of an OBGYN. He was also called a general pediatrician others call them a general practice physician. In fact, his son wrote it an essay a few years ago that in today's terms. He would probably be known as a family physician. Okay, so kind of a jack-of-all-trades absolutely. Well, the polymer read is something called laments America Louis French is not so good there. But I think this is a nod to Moliere and it translates roughly to the doctor in spite of himself. Oh, I suppose I should wash the walls of my office polish the rust from my instruments and keep them definitely in order build shelves in the laboratory. Empty out the old stains clean the bottles and refill them by another lens put my journals on edge instead of letting them live flat and heaps then begin 10 years back and gradually read them to date cataloging important articles for ready reference. I suppose I should read the new books if to this I added a bill at the Tailor's and at the News grow a decent beard and cultivated a look of importance who can tell I might be a credit to my lady happiness and never think anything but a white thought. I read this recently at a family medicine conference in Minneapolis. And when I got to the part about the journals the the audience collectively laughed because I think that this really speaks to many of us. I mean most Physicians are a bit obsessive
(00:02:00) compulsive or bit don't have any Rusty instrument
(00:02:04) to Heaven No, in fact, I was just looking for the day that not too many decades ago doctors had to sharpen their own needles to make them work a little bit. But wow, so, I think this Harkens back to probably the 1930s when we wrote this guidance
(00:02:16) 63 we Add wins Carlos Williams. So it really Rings true for you.
(00:02:20) It does. I mean, I think that you know, we are perfectionistic by very nature and I and we are always struggling with the fact that there's so much more we could do so much more we could learn but you know this day-to-day practice of medicine kind of gets in the way of things and we're spending, you know, the majority of our time with patients in as William. Carlos Williams says the humdrum day in day out every day work that is the real satisfaction of the practice of medicine now
(00:02:45) here is a poem you sent. By Jack Kula hand You Know Jack
(00:02:49) Houlihan. I did I met him at a very interesting place in Ohio. There's a little tiny College East of Cleveland call Hiram College and there there's a place called the center for literature medicine and the health care professions. Wow. Yeah, and I had a chance to walk a few miles with him through Amish Country Side and he's a very interesting gentleman. He's at SUNY Stony Brook and there he runs kind of their physician in society or their they called the medicine and contemporary Society program for their medical students. So he
(00:03:15) is a practicing physician and professor as well.
(00:03:17) He is indeed and this is a poem of his
(00:03:19) called The Man With Stars inside him. That's great images. Deep in this old man's chest a shadow of pneumonia grows. I watch antoniou Shake with a cough that traveled here from the beginning of Life as he pulls my hand to his lips and kisses my hand. Antonio tells me for a man whose death is gnawing at his spine. Pneumonia is a welcome friend a friend who reaches deep between his ribs without a sound and puff a cloud begins to squeeze. So delicately that great white image of his heart the Shadow on X-ray grows each time Antonio moves each time a nurse Smooths lotion on his back or puts a fleece between his limbs each time. He takes a sip of ice and is moist cheek shakes with cough the shadow grows in that delicate Shadow is a cloud of gas at the Galaxy's Center a cloud of cold-stunned nuclei begin to spin spinning and shooting a hundred thousand embryos of stars. I listened to Antonio's chest Where Stars crackle from the past and hear the boom of of blue giants newly caught and the snap of white dwarfs coughing spinning the second time Antonio kisses my hand. I feel his Dusky lips reach out from everywhere in space. I look at the place. His body was and see inside the Stars. It's called The Man With Stars inside him by dr. Jack kou Le Han. And in that poem what strikes me is. I from the images is this level of intimacy the doctor has with the patient and I imagine when you go into the examining room with each patient, even on a routine basis. There's a level of intimacy there that we don't often think of we think we're just going to the doctor and we think you're just doing your job. But how does that happen?
(00:05:10) Well, it's an amazing process and it's hard to pinpoint when it Exactly begins and I think medical students will all have that sort of epiphany moment when they just sort of Dawns on them that the doors closed a patient is telling them something that frankly their spouse may not know their past or priest or Rabbi may not know so it's an incredibly intimate. I mean, I often liken it to a confessional and it really is in many ways. In fact many students when they're interviewing for spots in medical school will comment that that though they are drawn to the ministry and some broader level. That's not how they want to spend their career, but But there's parts of that that appeal to them and I think there is this sort of ministerial quality. I mean, obviously there's this great mystery of life and death and we are we are present we Are Witnesses at Birth and we Are Witnesses at deaf and I think this poem so beautifully captures that sort of sense of Amazement or miraculousness, you know this connection to the cosmos as it were and the relief he feels absolutely
(00:06:06) that you brought a poem that gets at what medical science can't always tell us.
(00:06:12) That's right. Final poem is called MRI of a poet's brain and MRI is magnetic resonance. Imaging many of us know about this many of experienced it firsthand on a particularly Pleasant test. It's more of a culvert than anything that you're sort of put into and there's a loud noise associated with it. And you know, it's working at this sort of atomic level to sort of spin hydrogen atoms in a certain way and you know, not only is this technology Cutting Edge, but now we're even doing functional MRIs or we can actually kind of look at people's brains and get a sense of what part of the brain is actually working and help. Absolutely and pet scans which bring color to the picture and and can tell us, you know, when people are experiencing Rage or happiness, you know, what parts of brain might light up or if someone's mentally ill what proper brain appears to be not functioning so well, so, you know that what the future holds is phenomenal. So I think that this nicely captures the limits of what we can do MRI of a poet's brain in this image of your brain. I see each curve in the corpus callosum curlicues of jai re folding a fissures. Sulci mammillary bodies arcuate fasciculus angular gyrus tracks and nuclei eyes and ears tongue and pharynx but not even a single syllable of one tiny poem.
(00:07:27) So there are things that the MRI can't show us in can't tell us what is interesting. Is it the Journal of the American Medical Association you were saying John gives us a poem or gives readers a poem in every issue. So what do you learn from the Poetry or poem just like the one you read that you Get from the scientific pages of that journal.
(00:07:45) Well, you know isn't this one of the arguments that poetry is very hard to do. Well, it's very hard to construct a nice little poem. But when it's done, it can contain within it volumes of information and I think that in our sort of information overloaded age many of us Physicians were flipping through Jama. Certainly, there are those who will never read The Poetry but once my will pause and and read it and you can be sort of Thunderstruck. I think sometimes by the wisdom them contained within it and or the emotion contained within it and I think it reminds us constantly of this balance this struggle. We have between the Art and Science of medicine.
(00:08:23) Alright. Thanks John for helping us celebrate National poetry month in perhaps what many might think unlikely ways. Thank you, Tom. Dr. John Hallberg is a family physician at the University of Minnesota medical school.

Transcripts

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TOM CRANN: This is All Things Considered on Minnesota Public Radio. I'm Tom Crann. April is National Poetry Month for a little while longer at least. Well, you might not know that one of this country's most prominent poets, William Carlos Williams, sustained his medical practice throughout his writing career.

In fact, there was even a competition named in his honor for medical students. Now here to talk about the intersection of poetry and medicine as our regular medical analyst for All Things Considered, Dr. John Hallberg. Hi, John.

JOHN HALLBERG: Hi, Tom.

TOM CRANN: It's good to have you here, as always. And let's start with William Carlos Williams. I want you to read a poem of his to begin. A lot of people might not have been familiar with the fact that he was a practicing obstetrician, am I correct? Or general practice.

JOHN HALLBERG: Absolutely. In fact, he had a lot of labels attached to him. He was sort of an OB/GYN. He was also called a general pediatrician. Others called him a general practice physician. In fact, his son wrote in an essay a few years ago that in today's terms, he would probably be known as a family physician.

So kind of a jack of all trades. Absolutely. Well, the poem I'm going to read is something called Le Médecin malgré lui. My French is not so good there. But I think this is a nod to Moliere. And it translates roughly to the Doctor in Spite of Himself.

Oh I suppose I should

wash the walls of my office,

polish the rust from

my instruments and keep them

definitely in order;

build shelves in

the laboratory;

empty out the old stains,

clean the bottles

and refill them; buy

another lens; put

my journals on edge instead of

letting them lie flat

in heaps-- then begin

ten years back and

gradually

read them to date,

cataloging important

articles for ready reference.

I suppose I should

read the new books.

If to this I added

a bill at the tailor's

and at the cleaner's

and grew a decent beard

and cultivated a look

of importance--

Who can tell? I might be

a credit to my Lady Happiness

and never think anything

but a white thought!

I read this recently at a family medicine conference in Minneapolis. And when I got to the part about the journals, the audience collectively laughed because I think that this really speaks to many of us. I mean, most physicians are a bit obsessive compulsive or a bit--

TOM CRANN: You don't have any rusty instruments.

JOHN HALLBERG: No, in fact, I was just learning the other day that not too many decades ago doctors had to sharpen their own needles to make them work a little bit better. So I think this hearkens back to probably the 1930s when he wrote this.

TOM CRANN: He died in 63, we should add, William Carlos Williams. So it really rings true for you.

JOHN HALLBERG: It does. I mean, I think that we are perfectionistic by very nature. And we are always struggling with the fact that there is so much more we could do, so much more we could learn.

But this day-to-day practice of medicine kind of gets in the way of things. And we're spending the majority of our time with patients in, as William Carlos Williams says, the humdrum day in, day out, everyday work that is the real satisfaction of the practice of medicine.

TOM CRANN: Now here is a poem you sent by Jack Coulehan. Do you know Jack Coulehan?

JOHN HALLBERG: I did. I met him at a very interesting place in Ohio. There's a little tiny college east of Cleveland called Hiram College. And there, there's a place called the Center for Literature, Medicine, and the Health Care Professions.

And I had a chance to walk a few miles with him through Amish countryside. And he's a very interesting gentleman. He's at SUNY Stony Brook. And there, he runs their physician in society, or there they call it the Medicine in Contemporary Society Program for their medical students.

TOM CRANN: So he is a practicing physician and Professor as well?

JOHN HALLBERG: He is indeed.

TOM CRANN: And this is a poem of his called the Man with Stars Inside Him. And there's some great images.

Deep in this old man's chest,

a shadow of pneumonia grows.

I watch Antonio shake

with a cough that traveled here

from the beginning of life.

As he pulls my hand to his lips

and kisses my hand,

Antonio tells me

for a man whose death

is gnawing at his spine,

Pneumonia is a welcome friend,

a friend who reaches

deep between his ribs without a sound

And puff! a cloud begins to squeeze

so delicately

The great white image of his heart.

The shadow on his X-ray grows

each time Antonio moves,

each time a nurse smooths lotion on his back

Or puts a fleece between his limbs.

Each time he takes a sip of ice

and his moist cheek shakes with cough,

the shadow grows.

In that delicate shadow

Is a cloud of gas at the galaxy center,

a cloud of cold stunned

Nuclei begin to spin,

Spinning and shooting

a hundred thousand embryos of stars.

I listened to Antonio's chest

where stars crackle from the past

and hear the boom

of blue giants, newly caught,

and the snap of white dwarfs

Coughing, spinning.

The second time

Antonio kisses my hand

I feel his dusky lips

reach out from everywhere in space.

I look at the place

his body was,

and see inside, the stars.

It's called the Man With Stars Inside Him by Dr. Jack Coulehan. And in that poem, what strikes me is, aside from the images, is this level of intimacy, the doctor has with the patient.

And I imagine when you go into the examining room with each patient, even on a routine basis, there's a level of intimacy there that we don't often think of. We think we're just going to the doctor and we think you're just doing your job. But how does that happen?

JOHN HALLBERG: Well, it's an amazing process. And it's hard to pinpoint when it exactly begins. And I think medical students all have that sort of epiphany moment when they just sort of dawns on them that the door is closed.

A patient is telling them something that, frankly, their spouse may not know. Their pastor or priest or rabbi may not know. So it's an incredibly intimate-- I mean, I often liken it to a confessional. And it really is, in many ways.

In fact, many students, when they're interviewing for spots in medical school, will comment that though they are drawn to the ministry in some broader level, that's not how they want to spend their career.

But there's parts of that, that appeal to them. And I think there is this sort of ministerial quality. I mean, obviously, there's this great mystery of life and death. And we are present, we are witnesses at birth and we are witnesses at death. And I think this poem so beautifully captures that sort of sense of amazement or miraculousness, this connection to the cosmos, as it were.

TOM CRANN: And the relief he feels.

JOHN HALLBERG: Absolutely.

TOM CRANN: Now you brought a poem that gets at what medical science can't always tell us.

JOHN HALLBERG: That's right. This final poem is called MRI of a Poet's Brain. And MRI is Magnetic Resonance Imaging. Many of us know about this. Many have experienced it first hand on a particularly pleasant test. It's more of a culvert than anything that you're sort of put into, and there's a loud noise associated with it.

And it's working at this sort of atomic level to spin hydrogen atoms in a certain way. And not only is this technology cutting edge, but now we're even doing functional MRIs, where we can actually look at people's brains and get a sense of what part of the brain is actually working.

TOM CRANN: And how they're functioning.

JOHN HALLBERG: Absolutely. And PET scans, which bring color to the picture and can tell us when people are experiencing rage or happiness, what parts of the brain might light up or if someone's mentally ill, what part of our brain appears to be not functioning so well? So what the future holds is phenomenal. So I think that this nicely captures the limits of what we can do. MRI of a Poet's Brain.

In this image

of Your brain

I see each curve

In the corpus callosum,

Curlicues of gyri,

Folding of fissures,

Sinuous sulci,

Mammillary bodies,

Arcuate fistulas,

Angular gyrus,

Tracts and nuclei,

eyes and ears,

Tongue and pharynx--

But not even a single

Syllable of

One

Tiny

Poem.

TOM CRANN: So there are things that the MRI can't show us and can't tell us. What is interesting is that the Journal of the American Medical Association, you were saying, John gives us a poem or gives readers a poem in every issue. So what do you learn from the poetry or poem just like the one you read that you can't get from the scientific pages of that journal?

JOHN HALLBERG: Well, you know, isn't this one of the arguments that poetry is very hard to do well, it's very hard to construct a nice little poem. But when it's done, it can contain within it volumes of information.

And I think that in our information overloaded age, many of us physicians were flipping through JAMA. Certainly, there are those who will never read the poetry. But once in a while will pause and read it. And you can be sort of thunderstruck, I think sometimes by the wisdom contained within it or the emotion contained within it. And I think it reminds us constantly of this balance, this struggle we have between the art and science of medicine.

TOM CRANN: All right. Thanks, John, for helping us celebrate National Poetry Month in perhaps what many might think unlikely ways.

JOHN HALLBERG: Thank you, Tom.

TOM CRANN: Dr. John Hallberg is a family physician at the University of Minnesota Medical School.

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