A couple of years ago I was driving to work when I pulled up behind a car that had a red bumper sticker with white block lettering: “THINKING IS WORK.” When I arrived at my desk that day I wrote this statement on a Post-it note in my barely legible handwriting and moved on with my busy primary care clinic day.

Since then, I’ve had little time to ponder this idea, but it’s always been there, in the back of my mind, the Post-it still pinned to my desk bulletin board. We live in an accelerated world, saturated with information at our disposal. Though I’ve noticed, in my life and in medicine, there is less and less time to access this information, to research, or just think.

Dr. Danielle Ofri’s latest piece in the New England Journal of Medicine highlights this issue. In “Perchance to Think” Ofri outlines a common problem among primary care (and I’m sure all speciality) practices – there isn’t time allotted to actually think about a case. Ofri gives the example of a patient with slightly abnormal lab tests ordered by another physician. As the primary provider, Ofri is then tasked with sorting out whether this patient has adrenal insufficiency or rheumatoid arthritis while also addressing his six known chronic conditions. Ofri notes that, for primary care physicians, “adrenal insufficiency resides in the wobbliest, farthest-flung cortical gurus I possess.” Ofri quickly realized, as her “patient stacked his 15 medications on my desk – all of which needed refills, and all of which could interfere with adrenal function” that what she really needed to give this patient the best care possible was “time to think.”

In medical school we have time to study, to think deeply as we learn the intricacies of the human body and how to treat illness when things go wrong.

Once out in practice, though, there isn’t the luxury of that time to ponder. More and more demands are put on the physician, be it “last week’s labs to review, student notes to correct, patient calls to return, meds to renew, forms and papers spilling out of my mailbox.” Ofri eventually gives up, gives in to the time constraints of the system, and refers the patient to endocrinology to sort out the adrenal insufficiency issue.

As a primary care physician myself, this is an all too familiar dilemma. Ofri recognizes that this situation is untenable to all involved: the patient, the primary care provider, and the specialist. “In the pressurized world of contemporary outpatient medicine, there is simply no time to think. With every patient, we race to cover the bare minimum, sprinting in subsistence-level intellectual mode because that’s all that’s sustainable.”

Ofri eventually takes the time to listen to a podcast on adrenal insufficiency, addend her note and contact the patient with a more cogent plan until he’s able to see endocrinology. But this was time that isn’t usually allotted or even available in a normal physician’s busy life: “many of our patients’ conditions require — time to think, consider, revisit, reanalyze.”

Ofri laments there’s no way to code for contemplation, but asserts that giving physicians the time to think could improve efficiency. “We would save money by reducing unnecessary tests and cop-out referrals. We’d make fewer diagnostic errors and avert harms from overtesting. And allowing doctors to practice medicine at the upper end of our professional standard would make a substantial dent in the demoralization of physicians today.”

Here’s to considering a more wholistic way of practicing medicine, one that includes the intellectual rigor that attracted most physicians to medicine in the first place. After all, thinking is work.

Writing Prompt: Do you think giving physicians time to think would make a difference in efficiency? Have you experienced a case similar to Ofri’s, where if you had a little more time to research, you could manage the case yourself? As a patient, do you notice the time pressures on your physician? Describe what it’s like to experience this as a patient, as a provider. Write for 10 minutes.