They love me, they love me not ...

It was the worst of days. It was the best of days.

When I opened the mail one day last week, I found a letter from someone I’ll call Thelma. It read, in part:

"Last Monday you were kind enough to look at my rash, which you thought was just eczema. You gave me cream and asked me to e-mail you Thursday about my condition. When I did and said I was still itchy, you said I should stick with the same and that I could come back Monday, but I couldn’t wait because I itched so bad I couldn’t take it anymore. I saw another doctor Friday who said the patch was host to something called pityriasis rosea. He said the rash was so textbook it should have been picked up immediately. I had to be put on an oral steroid right away.

"I am so upset that I’m sending you back your bill [for a $15 co-pay] because I had to go to another doctor who could really help me."

I thought of a few choice words for my esteemed Friday colleague, but kept them to myself. A single scaly patch is a textbook case of pityriasis rosea? Oral steroids for pityriasis? Really?

As far as this patient is concerned, I must be a bum. Thirty-five years on the job, and I haven’t mastered the textbook yet.

Sunk in gloom, I opened an e-mail sent to my website by a patient I’ll call Louise:

"I suffer from psoriasis and have been to countless dermatologists since I was 8 years old. I recently had a terrible outbreak and was really hesitant to even go to a dermatologist because I’ve never been satisfied with any of them. Your associate is wonderful! I can’t say enough about her. She is warm, thorough, and really takes the time to sit with you and listen. You can tell she truly cares about her patients and loves her job."

I looked at the patient’s chart. What was the wonderful and satisfying treatment that my associate had prescribed to deal with this patient’s lifelong, recalcitrant psoriasis?

Betamethasone dipropionate cream 0.05%. Wow.

I e-mailed my associate at once and we shared a gratified chuckle. Guess no one ever thought of treating Louise’s psoriasis with a topical steroid before. We must be geniuses, right out there on the cutting edge.

So which are we, dear colleagues – geniuses or bums?

We’re neither, of course, which doesn’t stop our patients from forming firm opinions one way or the other. Which they can share by angry letter, fulsome e-mail, or, of course, any on-line reviews they can slip past the mysterious algorithms of the Yelps and Angie’s Lists of the world.

When I get messages like Thelma’s and Louise’s, I show them to my students and make three suggestions:

• Don’t try to look smart at someone else’s expense. Next time around a patient will be in somebody else’s office calling you a fool.

• Don’t respond to snippy patients’ complaints by contacting the complainer and trying to justify yourself. Learn something if you can, and move on.

• Be grateful for praise. Just don’t take it too seriously.

In the meantime, the insurers and assorted bureaucrats who run our lives these days are busy defining good care and claiming to measure it so they can reward quality and punish inefficiency. I’m sure they think they’re doing a fine job, although I remain deeply skeptical that what they choose to measure has much relevance to what actually goes on in offices like ours.

I could, of course, try to tell them why I think so. (I have tried, in fact.) Getting through to people with a completely different way of looking at things than yours is not very rewarding, even when large sums of money are not involved. I would have as good a chance of winning them over as I would of convincing Thelma that a scaly patch is not textbook pityriasis that needs prednisone and Louise that betamethasone cream is not the breakthrough that will change her life.

So: Not the best of times. Not the worst of times. Just another day at the office.

Dr. Rockoff practices dermatology in Brookline, Mass. He is on the clinical faculty at Tufts University, Boston, and has taught senior medical students and other trainees for 30 years. Dr. Rockoff has contributed to the Under My Skin column in Skin & Allergy News since 1997.

It was the worst of days. It was the best of days.

When I opened the mail one day last week, I found a letter from someone I’ll call Thelma. It read, in part:

"Last Monday you were kind enough to look at my rash, which you thought was just eczema. You gave me cream and asked me to e-mail you Thursday about my condition. When I did and said I was still itchy, you said I should stick with the same and that I could come back Monday, but I couldn’t wait because I itched so bad I couldn’t take it anymore. I saw another doctor Friday who said the patch was host to something called pityriasis rosea. He said the rash was so textbook it should have been picked up immediately. I had to be put on an oral steroid right away.

"I am so upset that I’m sending you back your bill [for a $15 co-pay] because I had to go to another doctor who could really help me."

I thought of a few choice words for my esteemed Friday colleague, but kept them to myself. A single scaly patch is a textbook case of pityriasis rosea? Oral steroids for pityriasis? Really?

As far as this patient is concerned, I must be a bum. Thirty-five years on the job, and I haven’t mastered the textbook yet.

Sunk in gloom, I opened an e-mail sent to my website by a patient I’ll call Louise:

"I suffer from psoriasis and have been to countless dermatologists since I was 8 years old. I recently had a terrible outbreak and was really hesitant to even go to a dermatologist because I’ve never been satisfied with any of them. Your associate is wonderful! I can’t say enough about her. She is warm, thorough, and really takes the time to sit with you and listen. You can tell she truly cares about her patients and loves her job."

I looked at the patient’s chart. What was the wonderful and satisfying treatment that my associate had prescribed to deal with this patient’s lifelong, recalcitrant psoriasis?

Betamethasone dipropionate cream 0.05%. Wow.

I e-mailed my associate at once and we shared a gratified chuckle. Guess no one ever thought of treating Louise’s psoriasis with a topical steroid before. We must be geniuses, right out there on the cutting edge.

So which are we, dear colleagues – geniuses or bums?

We’re neither, of course, which doesn’t stop our patients from forming firm opinions one way or the other. Which they can share by angry letter, fulsome e-mail, or, of course, any on-line reviews they can slip past the mysterious algorithms of the Yelps and Angie’s Lists of the world.

When I get messages like Thelma’s and Louise’s, I show them to my students and make three suggestions:

• Don’t try to look smart at someone else’s expense. Next time around a patient will be in somebody else’s office calling you a fool.

• Don’t respond to snippy patients’ complaints by contacting the complainer and trying to justify yourself. Learn something if you can, and move on.

• Be grateful for praise. Just don’t take it too seriously.

In the meantime, the insurers and assorted bureaucrats who run our lives these days are busy defining good care and claiming to measure it so they can reward quality and punish inefficiency. I’m sure they think they’re doing a fine job, although I remain deeply skeptical that what they choose to measure has much relevance to what actually goes on in offices like ours.

I could, of course, try to tell them why I think so. (I have tried, in fact.) Getting through to people with a completely different way of looking at things than yours is not very rewarding, even when large sums of money are not involved. I would have as good a chance of winning them over as I would of convincing Thelma that a scaly patch is not textbook pityriasis that needs prednisone and Louise that betamethasone cream is not the breakthrough that will change her life.

So: Not the best of times. Not the worst of times. Just another day at the office.

Dr. Rockoff practices dermatology in Brookline, Mass. He is on the clinical faculty at Tufts University, Boston, and has taught senior medical students and other trainees for 30 years. Dr. Rockoff has contributed to the Under My Skin column in Skin & Allergy News since 1997.

It was the worst of days. It was the best of days.

When I opened the mail one day last week, I found a letter from someone I’ll call Thelma. It read, in part:

"Last Monday you were kind enough to look at my rash, which you thought was just eczema. You gave me cream and asked me to e-mail you Thursday about my condition. When I did and said I was still itchy, you said I should stick with the same and that I could come back Monday, but I couldn’t wait because I itched so bad I couldn’t take it anymore. I saw another doctor Friday who said the patch was host to something called pityriasis rosea. He said the rash was so textbook it should have been picked up immediately. I had to be put on an oral steroid right away.

"I am so upset that I’m sending you back your bill [for a $15 co-pay] because I had to go to another doctor who could really help me."

I thought of a few choice words for my esteemed Friday colleague, but kept them to myself. A single scaly patch is a textbook case of pityriasis rosea? Oral steroids for pityriasis? Really?

As far as this patient is concerned, I must be a bum. Thirty-five years on the job, and I haven’t mastered the textbook yet.

Sunk in gloom, I opened an e-mail sent to my website by a patient I’ll call Louise:

"I suffer from psoriasis and have been to countless dermatologists since I was 8 years old. I recently had a terrible outbreak and was really hesitant to even go to a dermatologist because I’ve never been satisfied with any of them. Your associate is wonderful! I can’t say enough about her. She is warm, thorough, and really takes the time to sit with you and listen. You can tell she truly cares about her patients and loves her job."

I looked at the patient’s chart. What was the wonderful and satisfying treatment that my associate had prescribed to deal with this patient’s lifelong, recalcitrant psoriasis?

Betamethasone dipropionate cream 0.05%. Wow.

I e-mailed my associate at once and we shared a gratified chuckle. Guess no one ever thought of treating Louise’s psoriasis with a topical steroid before. We must be geniuses, right out there on the cutting edge.

So which are we, dear colleagues – geniuses or bums?

We’re neither, of course, which doesn’t stop our patients from forming firm opinions one way or the other. Which they can share by angry letter, fulsome e-mail, or, of course, any on-line reviews they can slip past the mysterious algorithms of the Yelps and Angie’s Lists of the world.

When I get messages like Thelma’s and Louise’s, I show them to my students and make three suggestions:

• Don’t try to look smart at someone else’s expense. Next time around a patient will be in somebody else’s office calling you a fool.

• Don’t respond to snippy patients’ complaints by contacting the complainer and trying to justify yourself. Learn something if you can, and move on.

• Be grateful for praise. Just don’t take it too seriously.

In the meantime, the insurers and assorted bureaucrats who run our lives these days are busy defining good care and claiming to measure it so they can reward quality and punish inefficiency. I’m sure they think they’re doing a fine job, although I remain deeply skeptical that what they choose to measure has much relevance to what actually goes on in offices like ours.

I could, of course, try to tell them why I think so. (I have tried, in fact.) Getting through to people with a completely different way of looking at things than yours is not very rewarding, even when large sums of money are not involved. I would have as good a chance of winning them over as I would of convincing Thelma that a scaly patch is not textbook pityriasis that needs prednisone and Louise that betamethasone cream is not the breakthrough that will change her life.

So: Not the best of times. Not the worst of times. Just another day at the office.

Dr. Rockoff practices dermatology in Brookline, Mass. He is on the clinical faculty at Tufts University, Boston, and has taught senior medical students and other trainees for 30 years. Dr. Rockoff has contributed to the Under My Skin column in Skin & Allergy News since 1997.