5 Lessons on Doing Research as a Resident

Residency is a magical time: you learn medicine, you learn humility, and you learn that your pager has
the emotional range of a smoke alarm. Somewhere in the middle of admissions, notes, rounds, call, and
that one patient who always needs a “quick” update (spoiler: it’s never quick), you’re also expected to
do scholarly activitya phrase that sounds serene, like you’ll be reading poetry in a sunlit library.
In real life, it’s more like you’re trying to finish a data abstraction sheet while inhaling cafeteria coffee
that tastes like regret.

The good news: doing research as a resident is absolutely doable. The trick is learning to make research
fit the reality of residency, not the fantasy version where you have “spare time” and “uninterrupted thoughts.”
Below are five lessons that consistently separate “I started a project” from “I finished a project.”

Lesson 1: Pick a Question That Can Survive Residency Life

The biggest resident-research heartbreak isn’t rejectionit’s starting with a beautiful, ambitious question
that requires five sites, three years, and a grant the size of a small nation’s GDP… and realizing you rotate
off the service next Tuesday.

A resident-friendly question is:
clinically relevant, narrowly defined, and logistically feasible.
If your question feels a little “too small,” you’re probably doing it right. Small projects finish. Finished
projects become posters, abstracts, manuscripts, and stepping-stones to bigger work.

Use a quick “PICO” test

Turn your clinical curiosity into a researchable question with a simple structure:
Patient/Population, Intervention/Exposure, Comparison, Outcome.

Example: “Does early mobility reduce delirium?” becomes:

• P: ICU patients age 65+
• I: early mobility protocol within 48 hours
• C: usual care
• O: delirium incidence and ICU length of stay

Choose the study type that fits your calendar

Not every project has to be a randomized trial. In residency, some of the most publishable work comes from:

• Case reports/series: great for rare presentations or unusual adverse events (fast, but selective).
• Retrospective chart reviews: common, practical, and often feasible with good data access.
• Quality improvement (QI): perfect if you’re fixing a workflow and measuring outcomes.
• Systematic reviews: doable if you have disciplined weekly time and a clear protocol.
• Education research: if you’re building curricula, evaluations, or simulation programs.

A feasibility checklist (before you fall in love)

• Can you explain your question in one sentence?
• Do you know where the data lives and who can grant access?
• Is your sample size likely to be “enough” to see anything meaningful?
• Does the timeline fit inside one academic year (or your remaining training time)?
• Do you have a mentor who can say, “Yes, this is doable,” and mean it?

If you can’t confidently answer at least four of those, adjust the scope. Shrink the question, shorten the
timeframe, refine the outcome, or pivot to a design that your future self won’t resent.

Lesson 2: Mentorship Is a Force Multiplier (and a Safety Net)

Residents often assume research is a solo sportlike you, a laptop, and a heroic playlist. In reality,
resident research is a team activity. A good mentor doesn’t just “help”they reduce wasted effort,
prevent rookie mistakes, and keep projects moving when your schedule gets chaotic.

When choosing a mentor, look for someone who has:
a track record of publishing, experience working with trainees, and the ability to match your timeline.
(Translation: they won’t vanish for six months and return with “Sorry, it’s been busy.”)

Set expectations early (seriously, early)

Your first meeting should cover:

• Deliverables: poster, abstract, manuscript, QI reportwhat “done” looks like.
• Timeline: reverse-engineer from conference deadlines or graduation dates.
• Authorship: who does what, and how authorship order will be decided.
• Check-ins: a standing 20–30 minute meeting beats “email me updates.”

If your program has access to statisticians, research coordinators, librarians, or mentoring teams,
use them. “I’m not a stats person” is fine“I never asked for stats help” is the one that hurts.

A resident-friendly team structure

A simple, high-functioning research team might include:

• You: clinical context, question ownership, project momentum
• Faculty mentor: design guidance, institutional navigation, publication strategy
• Statistician/analyst: sample size planning, analysis plan, interpretation checks
• Librarian: search strategy and screening workflows (especially for reviews)
• Coordinator (if available): IRB process support, data requests, tracking

You don’t need a giant team. You need the right team. That’s how you avoid spending three months
building the wrong spreadsheet for the wrong outcome.

Lesson 3: Learn the “Boring” Rules Early (They Save You Later)

Ethics and oversight aren’t red tape; they’re guardrails. Nothing stalls a project faster than discovering
you needed approval before you opened the chart list, exported data, or started that “quick” survey.

Know the difference: QI vs. research

Quality improvement typically aims to improve a local process and outcomes in your system.
Research aims to produce generalizable knowledge. The difference matters because it influences
whether an Institutional Review Board (IRB) review is required and what documentation you need.

When in doubt, ask your institution’s IRB or QI office. A ten-minute email now can prevent a
six-week delay later.

Minimal risk, chart reviews, and consent waivers

Many resident projects involve retrospective data (e.g., chart reviews). Under U.S. regulations,
an IRB may approve a waiver or alteration of informed consent for certain minimal-risk research
when specific criteria are met. Separate rules can apply for FDA-regulated research, and state laws
and institutional policies may add requirements.

Practical steps that keep you out of trouble:

• Write a simple protocol: aim, design, population, variables, outcomes, analysis plan.
• Limit data: collect only what you need (privacy is a feature, not a vibe).
• Plan secure storage: institution-approved systems, not “my personal drive, but it’s fine.”
• De-identify when possible: fewer identifiers, fewer headaches.
• Document access: who pulls data, who sees identifiers, and how it’s protected.

This lesson sounds unglamorous, but it’s the difference between “poster accepted” and
“we can’t use any of this data.”

Lesson 4: Protect Time Like It’s a Medication Reconciliation

Residency doesn’t “give you time.” Time is something you carve out with strategy and boundaries.
Many training environments recognize that residents need dedicated time for scholarshipbut you
often have to advocate for it, schedule it, and defend it from the creeping menace of “just one more task.”

Talk to your program leadership early

If you want to do research during residency, tell your program director or research lead as early as possible.
Programs may have processes for research electives, scholarly tracks, QI pathways, or mentorship matching.
The earlier you raise your hand, the more options you usually have.

Use a workflow that survives call

The best resident research systems are built for chaos. Try this:

1. Break the project into micro-tasks: 20–30 minutes each.
2. Maintain a “next action” list: one clearly defined task you can do today.
3. Schedule two weekly research blocks: even 45 minutes each is meaningful over months.
4. Batch similar work: abstract charts in one sitting, write in another, analyze later.
5. Use simple tools: a reference manager, a shared folder, and a clean data dictionary.

You’re not trying to become a productivity influencer. You’re trying to make progress even when your brain
is running on post-call fumes.

The “30-minute habit” (a resident’s secret weapon)

If you can consistently do 30 minutes of research, four days a week, you’ll be shocked by the output.
Over 12 weeks, that’s roughly 24 hoursenough to finalize a protocol, complete a chart review sample,
or draft a manuscript section. The key is consistency, not heroics.

Lesson 5: Write Early, Report Clearly, and Publish With a Plan

Residents often treat writing as the final step. That’s like waiting until discharge to start the admission note.
If you write early, you clarify your thinking, find gaps sooner, and make your project easier to finish.

Start with a “living manuscript”

Open a document early and create headings:
Introduction, Methods, Results (placeholder), Discussion, Limitations, Conclusion.
Add bullet points as you go. When the data comes back, you’re not starting from zeroyou’re filling in blanks.

Use reporting guidelines (your future reviewers will thank you)

Clear reporting makes your work more credible and easier to publish. Common frameworks include:

• STROBE for observational studies
• CONSORT for randomized trials
• PRISMA for systematic reviews
• CARE for case reports

You don’t need to memorize every checklist itemjust use them as guardrails so your methods and results
are reproducible and understandable.

Pick the right “finish line”

Decide early whether your first target is:

• a local/regional conference poster
• a national meeting abstract
• a manuscript submission
• a QI report shared internally (with a publication plan later)

A poster can be a strategic milestone, not a consolation prize. Posters create deadlines, force clarity,
and often evolve into manuscriptsespecially if you plan your next steps instead of letting the file
die in a desktop folder named “final_FINAL_reallyfinal.pptx.”

Final Thoughts: Research That Fits the Resident You Actually Are

Doing research as a resident isn’t about becoming a full-time scientist overnight. It’s about learning
how to ask better questions, evaluate evidence, and contribute to improved patient carewhile balancing
the very real demands of training.

If you remember nothing else, remember this: successful resident research is built on feasibility, mentorship,
ethical clarity, protected workflow, and early writing. You don’t need more hours in the day. You need a
project that respects the hours you already have.

Resident Research Experiences (Bonus): What It Really Feels Like in the Trenches

Residents who finish projects often describe the same emotional arcequal parts curiosity, chaos, and
unexpected growth. The beginning usually starts with a spark: a pattern you notice on nights, a frustrating
workflow, a question that keeps popping up on rounds. You jot it down, feel like a detective, and then your
next three shifts happen and the idea starts fading like a forgotten cafeteria coupon.

The residents who make it past that phase tend to do something deceptively simple: they attach the idea to a
calendar. Not a dramatic “I will do research every day at 5 a.m.” plan (that’s how you create fiction, not data),
but a realistic one: a 30-minute block after sign-out twice a week, or a protected afternoon during an elective.
Over time, those small blocks become a dependable rhythm. It’s not glamorous, but neither is paging radiology
for the third time about the same scan, and yet here we are.

A common experience is learning that research momentum is fragile. One missed meeting becomes three.
One unclear email turns into a month of waiting for “the data pull.” Residents who finish learn to protect
momentum with tiny “next actions”: draft the one-paragraph aim, clean the variable list, write the IRB methods
section, or create the first table shell. These are the tasks you can do even when you’re tired. In fact, they’re
especially the tasks you can do when you’re tired, because they keep the project alive between heavier lifts.

Many residents also experience the humbling moment when the data does not cooperate with the hypothesis.
The initial reaction is usually disappointment (“But the answer was supposed to be obvious!”). The more
productive reaction comes next: you realize you’ve just learned something real. Negative results can still be
valuable if your methods are solid and your interpretation is honest. More importantly, this is where residents
often develop the habit that separates clinicians from clinician-investigators: asking, “What else might explain
this?” rather than forcing the data to say what you wish it said.

Another shared experience: the first time you navigate IRB language, privacy rules, and data security, it feels
like learning a second medical vocabularyexcept the words are “minimal risk,” “waiver of consent,” and
“data retention,” and nobody gives you a pocket guide. The payoff is real, though. Residents who go through
this process often say it changes how they think about patient information and trust. You start seeing privacy
and consent not as paperwork, but as part of professionalismlike hand hygiene for the research world.

Finally, there’s the experience of presentingstanding by your poster while someone asks a question you
can’t answer, and realizing that you still know more about your project than anyone else in the room. That
moment is oddly empowering. You learn to explain your methods clearly, admit limitations confidently, and
take feedback without defensiveness. Many residents walk away from their first presentation thinking,
“I can actually do this.” And that beliefearned the hard way, between call shifts and chart reviewsmight be
the most important scholarly outcome of all.