Letters from Maine: Role playing

It’s not unusual when I run into a former patient that I am addressed as “Doctor” Wilkoff. I guess that is to be expected because when I was in practice I seldom introduced myself as Will. However, I will admit now that I never quite felt comfortable with the “Doctor” label. Today, if you addressed me as “Doctor” I would correct you and refer to myself as the “ex-Doctor Wilkoff.”

The term doctor derived from the Latin word to teach and eventually morphed into an academic title. In common parlance it is sometimes used as verb meaning to treat, e.g., “he doctored the wound.” Regardless of what academic field we are talking about, the title “doctor” has become a term of respect for someone who has spent an unusually long time learning his or her subject or craft. The holder of a doctorate, particularly in medicine, receives a rank, earned or unearned, near the top of the social hierarchy.

When I look back at more than 50 years of doing pediatrics I’m not sure that “doctor” really captures what I was up to. I will grant you that it is nice that folks want to acknowledge all those years I spent in training. But I don’t think one could say that what I did as a primary care small town pediatrician fits in with the original definition “to teach.” I did spend a few hours teaching students every so often but my primary time was spent with patients and I don’t consider what I was doing with them as teaching. There just wasn’t enough time. I had to take as a given that families who came to see me already had a basic knowledge base either as the result of their schooling, family lore, or public service announcements from the American Academy of Pediatrics.

I certainly wasn’t doing much doctoring in the sense of treating or curing disease. If one removes administering immunizations and delivery room resuscitations, I saved very few lives.

So you may ask, if not as “doctor,” how would I prefer to be labeled? Good question, but easy for me to answer. The term “coach” quickly comes to mind. As someone who played a variety of team sports there is no term that I can think of that commands more respect than “Coach.” While the term doesn’t carry the burden of a particularly long educational journey it does imply the person is wise, observant, and experienced.

There is some teaching involved but primarily a coach is going to assess the players (or in this cases the families) he is presented with and then do the best he can to guide them toward good decisions they can make themselves given their specific situations. This requires spending most of one’s time getting to know each family and understanding their strengths and limitations. One can’t coach speed to an athlete who is slow footed. And, one isn’t going to get a family that is dominated by anxiety to become bold risk takers. The best you can do is to help them learn strategies to minimize their anxieties.

A good coach can help his players learn to set reasonable goals given their skill sets. And, a good pediatrician can coach his families how to adapt their strengths and weakness to the challenges of each of their children. For example, for a physician faced with a mother-infant dyad that is struggling with breastfeeding, once the education piece is in place, it is up to him or her to function as a coach and assist the team in setting a reasonable goal that can result in a win-win for the family.

A coach must be humble, putting his or her players’ needs first and flexible enough to adjust his or her goals to define success in terms for what is best for each individual team. “Coach” may not carry the ring of authority that can come with “Doctor” but it is a role equally as challenging and rewarding.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

It’s not unusual when I run into a former patient that I am addressed as “Doctor” Wilkoff. I guess that is to be expected because when I was in practice I seldom introduced myself as Will. However, I will admit now that I never quite felt comfortable with the “Doctor” label. Today, if you addressed me as “Doctor” I would correct you and refer to myself as the “ex-Doctor Wilkoff.”

The term doctor derived from the Latin word to teach and eventually morphed into an academic title. In common parlance it is sometimes used as verb meaning to treat, e.g., “he doctored the wound.” Regardless of what academic field we are talking about, the title “doctor” has become a term of respect for someone who has spent an unusually long time learning his or her subject or craft. The holder of a doctorate, particularly in medicine, receives a rank, earned or unearned, near the top of the social hierarchy.

When I look back at more than 50 years of doing pediatrics I’m not sure that “doctor” really captures what I was up to. I will grant you that it is nice that folks want to acknowledge all those years I spent in training. But I don’t think one could say that what I did as a primary care small town pediatrician fits in with the original definition “to teach.” I did spend a few hours teaching students every so often but my primary time was spent with patients and I don’t consider what I was doing with them as teaching. There just wasn’t enough time. I had to take as a given that families who came to see me already had a basic knowledge base either as the result of their schooling, family lore, or public service announcements from the American Academy of Pediatrics.

I certainly wasn’t doing much doctoring in the sense of treating or curing disease. If one removes administering immunizations and delivery room resuscitations, I saved very few lives.

So you may ask, if not as “doctor,” how would I prefer to be labeled? Good question, but easy for me to answer. The term “coach” quickly comes to mind. As someone who played a variety of team sports there is no term that I can think of that commands more respect than “Coach.” While the term doesn’t carry the burden of a particularly long educational journey it does imply the person is wise, observant, and experienced.

There is some teaching involved but primarily a coach is going to assess the players (or in this cases the families) he is presented with and then do the best he can to guide them toward good decisions they can make themselves given their specific situations. This requires spending most of one’s time getting to know each family and understanding their strengths and limitations. One can’t coach speed to an athlete who is slow footed. And, one isn’t going to get a family that is dominated by anxiety to become bold risk takers. The best you can do is to help them learn strategies to minimize their anxieties.

A good coach can help his players learn to set reasonable goals given their skill sets. And, a good pediatrician can coach his families how to adapt their strengths and weakness to the challenges of each of their children. For example, for a physician faced with a mother-infant dyad that is struggling with breastfeeding, once the education piece is in place, it is up to him or her to function as a coach and assist the team in setting a reasonable goal that can result in a win-win for the family.

A coach must be humble, putting his or her players’ needs first and flexible enough to adjust his or her goals to define success in terms for what is best for each individual team. “Coach” may not carry the ring of authority that can come with “Doctor” but it is a role equally as challenging and rewarding.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

It’s not unusual when I run into a former patient that I am addressed as “Doctor” Wilkoff. I guess that is to be expected because when I was in practice I seldom introduced myself as Will. However, I will admit now that I never quite felt comfortable with the “Doctor” label. Today, if you addressed me as “Doctor” I would correct you and refer to myself as the “ex-Doctor Wilkoff.”

The term doctor derived from the Latin word to teach and eventually morphed into an academic title. In common parlance it is sometimes used as verb meaning to treat, e.g., “he doctored the wound.” Regardless of what academic field we are talking about, the title “doctor” has become a term of respect for someone who has spent an unusually long time learning his or her subject or craft. The holder of a doctorate, particularly in medicine, receives a rank, earned or unearned, near the top of the social hierarchy.

When I look back at more than 50 years of doing pediatrics I’m not sure that “doctor” really captures what I was up to. I will grant you that it is nice that folks want to acknowledge all those years I spent in training. But I don’t think one could say that what I did as a primary care small town pediatrician fits in with the original definition “to teach.” I did spend a few hours teaching students every so often but my primary time was spent with patients and I don’t consider what I was doing with them as teaching. There just wasn’t enough time. I had to take as a given that families who came to see me already had a basic knowledge base either as the result of their schooling, family lore, or public service announcements from the American Academy of Pediatrics.

I certainly wasn’t doing much doctoring in the sense of treating or curing disease. If one removes administering immunizations and delivery room resuscitations, I saved very few lives.

So you may ask, if not as “doctor,” how would I prefer to be labeled? Good question, but easy for me to answer. The term “coach” quickly comes to mind. As someone who played a variety of team sports there is no term that I can think of that commands more respect than “Coach.” While the term doesn’t carry the burden of a particularly long educational journey it does imply the person is wise, observant, and experienced.

There is some teaching involved but primarily a coach is going to assess the players (or in this cases the families) he is presented with and then do the best he can to guide them toward good decisions they can make themselves given their specific situations. This requires spending most of one’s time getting to know each family and understanding their strengths and limitations. One can’t coach speed to an athlete who is slow footed. And, one isn’t going to get a family that is dominated by anxiety to become bold risk takers. The best you can do is to help them learn strategies to minimize their anxieties.

A good coach can help his players learn to set reasonable goals given their skill sets. And, a good pediatrician can coach his families how to adapt their strengths and weakness to the challenges of each of their children. For example, for a physician faced with a mother-infant dyad that is struggling with breastfeeding, once the education piece is in place, it is up to him or her to function as a coach and assist the team in setting a reasonable goal that can result in a win-win for the family.

A coach must be humble, putting his or her players’ needs first and flexible enough to adjust his or her goals to define success in terms for what is best for each individual team. “Coach” may not carry the ring of authority that can come with “Doctor” but it is a role equally as challenging and rewarding.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].