Brain Notes — Student Magazine
Short essays on memory, empathy, and clinical communication.
Paper records, digital systems, and the human beings in between.
On paper, hospitals look like perfect memory systems. Every visit generates lab values, discharge letters, prescriptions, and billing codes. But the more time I spent shadowing in wards and clinics, the more I noticed a quieter system running in parallel: family memory.
Almost every family I saw carried their own informal medical file—plastic folders with handwritten notes, stapled bills, and scribbled drug names. When something looked wrong, it was usually a parent or caregiver who spoke up first, flipping through their notes and saying, “But last time you said…”
Technically, the hospital’s electronic medical record is the official source of truth. Practically, the system is stitched together by humans comparing what’s on the screen with what they remember from last time. That gap—between perfect data and messy reality—is where real care happens.
Instead of seeing family-tracked notes as a nuisance or duplication, health systems could treat them as a third data stream. Asking, “What are you tracking at home?” is not just polite; it’s a way to catch discrepancies, understand priorities, and design tools that respect the way people already think.