In a video interview, the anonymous doctor’s frustration comes through loud and clear. She takes care of complex patients with many health needs, often working 11 or 12 hours a day, sacrificing time with her family. Yet the message she constantly gets from administrators is that she’s “dumb and inefficient” if she can’t crank patients through the system every 15 minutes.
In a word, she’s abused.
And patients ought to care enough about their doctors to ask them if they’re being abused, according to Dr. Pamela Wible, who raised the issue recently on her blog. “The life you save may save you,” wrote Dr. Wible, a primary care doctor on the West Coast who established her own version of the ideal medical practice after becoming burned-out by the corporate model of care.
This is one of those issues that’s like lifting a corner of the forbidden curtain. Many patients probably don’t think too much about their doctor’s challenges and frustrations. After all, physicians are paid more than enough to compensate for any workplace frustration, aren’t they? Isn’t this what they signed up for?
The problem with this kind of thinking is that it ignores reality. Medicine, especially primary care, has become a difficult, high-pressure environment to be in. One study, for example, that tracked the daily routine at a private practice found the physicians saw an average of 18 patients a day, made 23.7 phone calls, received 16.8 emails, processed 12.1 prescription refills and reviewed 19.5 laboratory reports, 11.1 imaging reports and 13.9 consultation reports.
And when physicians are overloaded, unhappy and feel taken advantage of, it tends to be only a matter of time before it spills over into how they interact with their patients.
The million-dollar question here is whether patients can – or should – do anything about it.
Dr. Wible advocates taking a “just ask” approach. Compassion and advocacy by patients for their doctors can accomplish far more than most people think, she says.
One of her blog readers agreed, saying the pressures “must frustrate them beyond endurance. I’m going to start asking.”
Another commenter sounded a note of caution, though: “I feel there is a risk for a patient to ask such a question to a dr. who might be hiding how very fragile he/she is.”
More doubts were voiced at Kevin MD, where Dr. Wible’s blog entry was cross-posted this week. A sample:
– “Abused is a very emotionally loaded word that brings up powerful emotions and feelings like shame. I think if a doc is asked by a patient whether he/she is abused, they might actually end up feeling accused.”
– “I’m having a hard time imagining most docs responding well to their patients asking them if they are abused and I doubt that most docs would respond ‘yes, I am being abused’ to patients who do ask that no matter what was going on in their workplace. Nor do I think most patients want to spend a big chunk of their doctor visit talking about the doctor’s problems and issues.”
– “And what could I do if the answer is ‘yes’?”
Yet reams have been written about doctor-patient boundaries and the hazards of too much self-disclosure by the physician. Can it ultimately damage the relationship if the doctor shows vulnerability or emotional neediness? What are the ethics of a role reversal that puts the patient in the position of being caretaker to the doctor?
What do readers think? I’d like to know.