When I was a medical student, I spent vacations working in a community hospital in the Chicago area. There were a few medical residents training there at the time, but, by and large, almost all of the care and teaching was provided by private practice physicians.
My favorite physician was a soft-spoken, warm internist. He actually carried a “little black bag” as he made his rounds; he also carried and had read the latest issue of
The Annals of Internal Medicine. In addition to expertly balancing an inpatient load and busy solo practice, he actively participated in conferences. He taught students and residents on the spot whenever the opportunity arose at the bedside or in the hallway. His teaching style was Socratic but non-threatening. His explanations were crystal clear and organized. He appeared to think, and teach, in paragraph-form.
Interpersonally, he was an intent listener, humble, clever, and engaging. He always seemed unhurried for both patients and students.
I believe compassion and caring are, to a great extent, hardwired. Nevertheless, I gained new insight into my role model’s character development when I read a
book he wrote after retiring several years ago. The too short volume chronicles his time serving as a medic near the front lines in New Guinea and Luzon during World War II. His writing style, like his personal style, was clear, organized, self-effacing, and often funny. For much of his deployment, he was attached to the 36th Evacuation Hospital, working hard to support a war effort that was just miles (and often less) away.
How might his military experience as a medic have made him a better physician later in life? He explains it in the book. While in New Guinea, he worked closely with the front-line combat troops and the experience moved him. He modestly writes:
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“This exposure to the lowest soldier, the foot soldier, the grunt, the GI who was, and knew he was, expendable but willingly bore the brunt, deeply impressed me; I acquired an appreciation of and a compassion for such men which persisted and, I think, guided me a bit, sometimes, as I practiced medicine.” |
As a student, I found him to be a remarkable, compassionate role model. To this day, I can hear his voice as I tease details from a patient, wait patiently for a family member to come to the point, or try to pass on a concept to a trainee.
There are some great teachers and role models in the big, academic medical centers. Fortunately, I met one such a physician in the halls of a community hospital in the very earliest days of my medical life and I have tried to emulate him ever since.