Professional Discourtesy

My 95-year-old mother recently had a fall and whacked the back of her head. She never lost consciousness or developed focal neuro signs, but her imaging showed a small subdural hematoma, so she spent a couple of days in the ICU for observation. 

I was at her bedside when the attending hospitalist rounded on her. He seemed competent enough, and his manner was brusque, but professional. I asked him about my mother’s other x-rays, since she was experiencing a lot of hip pain since her fall. Looking mildly annoyed, he pulled up the film on his computer, and I walked behind him to take a look over his shoulder. When I inquired about some possible widening in her SI joint, he asked if I was a physician, and I told him I was.

Suddenly, his entire demeanor changed. He gave a much more detailed explanation of his thinking, and his plans for my mother’s disposition. He inquired about her comfort, her pain control and her sleep. At the end of the visit, he gave me his personal cell number, in case I had any questions or concerns. 

I won’t lie--I took full advantage of his sudden attentiveness to secure the best possible treatment for my mom. But I was a little bit shocked about how obviously he had upped his game upon learning I was a physician. It was as if I had detonated a privilege bomb in the middle of the hospital room. 

We talk a lot about “patient-centered care,” and “exceptional service,” but I wonder what it would take to make our very best the norm rather than the exception. After all, isn’t that what everyone deserves?