I think that is something that is lacking for young hospitalists and residents during training. They don’t see the illness from start to finish. They see it from the start until the moment the patient begins to improve and is discharged.
Q: What is the consequence of that shift?
A: Less-experienced physicians, in terms of management of a patient from the beginning to end, unless there is good communication between hospital physicians and outpatient physicians. And I just think younger physicians are less well prepared for the complications that may ensue from a given illness because they only see the illness for such a short period of time.
Q: What’s the biggest reward of being a hospitalist?
A: Making patients better, if that can be done, and helping them through illnesses that can’t be made better. The outcome may be death, permanent disability, or something tragic, but patients and their families still feel thankful if they feel you’ve been a caring physician. Without the patient and the family being satisfied, I wouldn’t have many rewards.
Q: After 26 years as a hospitalist, what’s the best advice you could offer to someone new in the field?
A: Don’t cut corners. Be as complete and as thorough as you need to be. Communicate with patients and their families, which is crucial. Be open to suggestions, because you don’t know everything. I still feel that way after 26 years. Be optimistic and enjoy what you do. And it’s very important for busy, high-pressure physician specialists to keep their mind on their family and their outside-the-hospital relationships. Don’t forget your kids are going to grow up.
Q: You often emphasize the importance of physicians communicating with patients and their families. What’s the biggest barrier to communication?
A: First, reimbursement isn’t there for explanations and counseling. You get reimbursed for the evaluation, the diagnosis, and the management of the illness. No. 2, it takes time—sometimes an inordinate amount of time. If a patient is critically ill, I can spend 30 to 90 minutes with a family, not treating the patient, but explaining what’s the matter with the patient and what the treatment options are. During that time, you’re giving up other patient-care responsibilities.
And I don’t think physicians have been well trained to communicate with someone and explain the details of an illness and the treatment options nonmedically. I’ve seen doctors try to explain to families that a patient is dead and the family didn’t know what the doctor meant. I teach residents to speak English to patients and their families, not speak medical.
Q: Should there be a greater emphasis on communication during education and residency?
A: Absolutely. I tell residents they need this training as much as they need to know what antibiotic to use for pneumonia. … My experience over the years is patients think they’re getting better care from average doctors who communicate well than doctors who are brilliant and can’t communicate.
Q: What has kept you at Chestnut Hill Hospital for 26 years?
A: Some of it is inertia. When my children were young, it was the community in which I lived. And I like working in a small, community hospital because of the personal relationships I’ve developed with the other professionals, everyone from medical records to the secretarial staff.
Q: What’s next for you?
A: As I’ve gotten older, being woken up in the middle of the night gets harder and harder, so I’ve thought of doing something where the hours are more fixed and I have a little more time. I have thought about starting satellite practices in other community hospitals that are looking to start hospitalist programs, being more of an administrator and delivering less patient care. But I still like what I’m doing, and that’s why I keep doing it. TH