Becoming the Patient: A Physician’s Path Toward Enhanced Empathy in Medicine
By Francisco M. Torres, MD
As a doctor committed to treating individuals suffering from spine-related pain conditions, I have devoted many years to providing care that encompasses both medical expertise and emotional sensitivity. Yet, a recent event profoundly transformed my viewpoint—not as a physician, but as a patient preparing for surgery for the first time in quite some time. My experience went beyond a mere clinical intervention; it became a profoundly emotional and humbling journey that underscored the significant vulnerability of being on the opposite side of the stethoscope.
The Absence of Control
For those of us involved in healthcare, it’s quite simple to grow accustomed to the cycles of care, diagnoses, and operations. However, once I found myself as a patient, I became acutely aware of how bewildering and powerless it can feel to relinquish that control. Even though I was a physician, and perhaps as a consequence of that, I was intensely conscious of everything that could potentially go wrong. No level of medical expertise could bring back my typical sense of ease. What unfolded was an entire transformation in identity—from a self-assured physician to an apprehensive patient.
One of the most striking revelations was recognizing the degree to which patients rely on individuals they have never met before. You entrust your faith—and occasionally your life—to the care of strangers. The manner in which these individuals present themselves, whether with empathy or indifference, can greatly affect whether patients feel secure enough to inquire or voice their concerns.
Even for someone like me—who possesses a laid-back, optimistic outlook and a strong conviction in the efficacy of diligent efforts leading to favorable outcomes—the unpredictability of a life-altering condition was staggering. I was devoid of control, and no action on my part could restore it. It had to be surrendered.
The Unvoiced Anxiety
When my surgeon came in accompanied by an assistant, he didn’t introduce the person by his side. Under normal circumstances, I would have readily asked, “Who is this?” But at that moment, I was paralyzed. I didn’t want to question the surgeon’s competence or decision-making just before my surgery. The dread of being seen as “difficult” rendered me mute. I now comprehend why patients often respond with, “No, I don’t have any questions,” even when their uncertainty is palpable.
Despite the surgeon’s repeated attempts to encourage questions, I couldn’t voice the inquiries that truly mattered to me: “Which aspects of the surgery will you be performing versus those handled by the assistant?” “What measures are in place to mitigate risks?” These were precisely the kinds of informed questions healthcare professionals are trained to pose—but being in the patient role had stripped me of the clarity and bravery to articulate them.
In retrospect, I recognize that the dynamics of power in that room were not mine alone to manage. The onus to foster open dialogue rests significantly on the healthcare provider. This means not only fulfilling the technical duty of “inviting questions” but also being attuned to emotional cues, taking the time to elaborate, and clarifying the process.
The Healing Effect of Kindness
Surprisingly, it wasn’t merely the medical skill of my surgeon that offered me the greatest reassurance—it was the simple human kindness shown by the nurses, technicians, and aids. Their gentle approach, warm smiles, and sincere concern for my well-being made all the difference. They were not just addressing a lumbar spine issue or a collection of symptoms; they were attending to a complete individual.
I found it much simpler to confide in them, to reveal my apprehensions and confusion. This serves as a crucial lesson for all healthcare professionals: technical proficiency must be complemented with emotional support. It is this blend that fosters the trust essential for healing.
A Chance for Reflection and Transformation
My experience has altered me—not just as an individual but also as a healthcare provider. Embracing vulnerability reminded me of the emotional struggles many of my patients face in silence. As physicians, we often become so focused on addressing the medical issue at hand that we can inadvertently neglect the individual experiencing that issue.
This experience has driven me to modify my approach to patient care. Moving forward, I plan to be more sensitive to both the expressed and unexpressed needs of my patients. I will no longer take for granted that if someone indicates they have no questions, they are fully informed or comfortable. Instead, I will gently probe, create space for their worries, and acknowledge their feelings.
More significantly, I will take the time to introduce each member of the team, clarify roles, and explain procedures—not solely out of protocol, but to assist patients in regaining some sense of control and comprehension. As I have now witnessed firsthand, these small gestures can greatly alleviate a patient’s anxiety.
The Conclusion: Humanizing Healthcare
The crux of my experience is this: while medical outcomes are vital, so is the manner in which individuals feel throughout the process. The smallest acts of respect and empathy—whether it’s introducing a team member, elaborating on a procedure, or inquiring once more if someone has questions—can initiate a ripple of comfort and connection.
This goes beyond mere bedside demeanor. It involves re-centering the