-Prashasti Sharma
When I started my medical training in India, I relied on handwritten notes and bulky folders and a rudimentary EMR system. While technology existed in medicine, it was not the mainstay of practice. The doctor–patient relationship was often garnered through time spent together, conversations that were not solely focused on illness, community relations, and so forth.
There is a stark difference between my experience in India and my experience as an international medical graduate (IMG) in the United States. The healthcare system looked and felt different. Technology was not a tool; it became the backbone of healthcare. From electronic health records to telemedicine platforms, to artificial intelligence-driven diagnostic tools, to automated reminders, technology was integrated into almost every patient care process.
I remember my first week on my externship at Medical City Denton. I was given a login for the electronic health record (EHR) system, and I felt really lost.
In India, we depended upon written charts and a rudimentary EMR system. While it was systematic, it took time to communicate and was often disjointed. Here, with a few clicks of my mouse, I could see a patient’s laboratory results, imaging, and previous notes all on one screen and organised. I quickly realised that this type of system saved not only time, but also reduced errors, improved communication across different specialties, and allowed me to concentrate on the patient in front of me rather than running after their documents.
Telehealth was another area that I found remarkable. I had the opportunity to observe how virtual visits supported patients during the pandemic. One patient, in particular, stood out. A middle-aged woman living several miles away and who struggled with her transport, without telehealth, she would have delayed care or missed follow-up. Instead, she connected with her physician and was able to manage her plan consistently. Having come from a country where geographical barriers continue to hinder access to care in rural areas, this felt groundbreaking. I felt excited to consider how the same technology could provide care in these areas back home.
AI is having an impact as well. While I have not “relied” on it for decision-making, I have seen decision-support tools flag possible drug interactions, propose possible diagnoses, and even read imaging with astounding accuracy. As a physician, I know the responsibility ultimately remains with us, but I also see how AI can be a safety net—identifying the flaws in judgment of a tired human who has just finished a long shift. For me, AI is not as much of a threat as an assistant in the background that keeps patients safe.
Of course, this journey has made me wonder what we also lose by relying on technology too much. I have noticed patients sometimes feel rushed, and I suspect it has more to do with the amount of time spent in front of a screen instead of in front of them. I am continually reminding myself that while technology improves power efficiency, it can never recreate the warmth of human-to-human interactions. A delightful reassurance, a simple pause to listen, or shared silence is a type of healing a machine will never achieve.
For me, the most important lesson has been balance. As an IMG, I bring with me the values of patient-centred, relationship-based care I have been taught in India and adapt them in conjunction with the efficiency and innovation of American health care. I see the future of medicine not as a choice between tradition and technology, but a tapestry that offers us opportunities to embrace both.
As I continue my journey in the U.S., I carry this vision with me: technology shouldn’t redefine what it means to heal, but it should provide us with more options to heal better. Healing, at its core, will always be about people—and no algorithm can ever change that.