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The following thread is a little different from my usual narratives. Each tweet is a self-contained moment, separate from the others, except for the final vignette.
As always, details are changed and anonymized, but the essence remains.
These happened over many years.
As always, details are changed and anonymized, but the essence remains.
These happened over many years.
She looks younger than her age. I don’t know much about fashion, but it’s clear that she does. Her chart says she’s highly educated.
I introduce myself.
She flashes a dazzling smile, and exhales with relief, “oh thank GOD, you speak English!”
I force a smile.
I introduce myself.
She flashes a dazzling smile, and exhales with relief, “oh thank GOD, you speak English!”
I force a smile.
He lingers in the exam room at the visit’s end. He says he wants to speak to me. He has something important to say.
He walks up to me and squeezes my shoulder, hard. He leans in, gaze intent.
“Son, are you a believer? Because I worry about your soul...”
I force a smile.
He walks up to me and squeezes my shoulder, hard. He leans in, gaze intent.
“Son, are you a believer? Because I worry about your soul...”
I force a smile.
He’s a man who always speaks for his wife.
“Don’t take this personally Dr. T, but I think she’d be more comfortable seeing one of your partners.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“Just, you know, the whole cultural thing, it makes a big difference.”
“I understand.”
I force a smile.
“Don’t take this personally Dr. T, but I think she’d be more comfortable seeing one of your partners.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“Just, you know, the whole cultural thing, it makes a big difference.”
“I understand.”
I force a smile.
He does lawn care.
“Why are so many docs Indian or “Pakistanian” or stuff? Why aren’t there more Americans?”
“I’m American.”
“Yeah, but.. uh- you speak English well. It’s not- I mean you ARE American, but..”
“Not like, white American?”
He’s relieved. “YES!”
I can’t smile.
“Why are so many docs Indian or “Pakistanian” or stuff? Why aren’t there more Americans?”
“I’m American.”
“Yeah, but.. uh- you speak English well. It’s not- I mean you ARE American, but..”
“Not like, white American?”
He’s relieved. “YES!”
I can’t smile.
He’s a military contractor with sunglasses he wears indoors. His shirt has insignias I don’t recognize.
“Hey man... You’re not one of those.. ahh.. Arabs, are you?”
I say no. I’m not an Arab.
“Well it’s okay even if you are. You’re one of the good ones.”
I don’t smile.
“Hey man... You’re not one of those.. ahh.. Arabs, are you?”
I say no. I’m not an Arab.
“Well it’s okay even if you are. You’re one of the good ones.”
I don’t smile.
He’s an old man with craggy features and dark eyes that burn with intensity. His wife sits beside him, she is kind and talkative, while he doesn’t say much.
He does have one question for me, though.
“Hey, I know where you’re from. You support that ISIS shit?”
I am stunned.
He does have one question for me, though.
“Hey, I know where you’re from. You support that ISIS shit?”
I am stunned.
“You know, Bin Laden had kidney problems. He probably had a kidney doc.” He bursts out laughing, and his wife shakes his arm violently.
“Enough!” She says.
I face them both, and in that moment, think of just how very far apart we are.
I
am
an
entire
world
away...
“Enough!” She says.
I face them both, and in that moment, think of just how very far apart we are.
I
am
an
entire
world
away...
Afterword: The overwhelming majority of my patient interactions are pleasant, and my smiles are genuine.
The recollections above are only a handful over more than a decade of clinical practice.
Finally, I’m well aware that my forced smiles are not unique.
They’re everywhere.
The recollections above are only a handful over more than a decade of clinical practice.
Finally, I’m well aware that my forced smiles are not unique.
They’re everywhere.
