Reexamining doctor-patient relationships with more compassion

In many cultures, being a doctor is considered the ultimate sign of success, as is the case here in Algeria. As a child, I looked up to doctors, whom I viewed as heroes, with their white coats and calm voices. These people had the power to save lives.

But because of myasthenia gravis (MG), I also grew up in hospitals, and after so many appointments, my brain slowly started associating doctors with pain, fear, and bad news. I think one of the hardest parts of a medical journey is feeling angry at the very people who spend their lives trying to help you.

My perspective about doctors changed completely after I wasn’t believed, my symptoms were dismissed, and I was repeatedly sent to psychologists, as if everything was “in my head.” The ironic part is that back then, I didn’t believe in psychologists. (Today, I adore them.)

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I’m sure we all have that one doctor we like to go to, whom we’ve chosen not only for medical reasons, but also emotional ones. We go there seeking comfort, reassurance, and understanding. Honestly, what real solution can anyone offer for a chronic condition?

I deeply appreciate the doctors who remember my face when I walk into the room. The ones who truly listen to what I say, even when it feels messy, confused, or disorganized. The ones who take time to explain, who answer questions without making me feel stupid, and who smile or joke to lighten the mood. These moments matter more than I think they realize.

On the other hand, I’m deeply saddened by doctors who conduct consultations in a rush. I understand that they are overwhelmed, overbooked, and exhausted, but those few minutes we get with them can be life-changing for us. That brief encounter might entail a diagnosis, new fear, hope, or complete shift in how we view our future. Yet while I’m sitting there trying to understand what’s happening to my body, the person in front of me might already be thinking about the next patient.

Living with MG means meeting many doctors over the years, including neurologists, general practitioners, emergency doctors, physiotherapists, and other specialists. I sincerely wish that somewhere in their training, there were more courses about the human side of medicine. About how not to transfer stress to someone who is already in distress. About how much a tone of voice, a look, or a smile can shape an entire medical journey.

I dream of a day when I can go to a medical appointment without having to prepare myself for battle. I often spend nights memorizing my symptoms, organizing my thoughts, and rehearsing what I need to say. However, at the same time, I also prepare myself emotionally for the possibility of disappointment. This might come in the form of a doctor who is too tired to listen, who doesn’t appreciate my questions, or who is rushed, overwhelmed, and emotionally unavailable.

Then it hit me: As a patient, I also need to remember the human side of doctors.

A mile in someone else’s shoes

It’d probably be more helpful for me to start with kindness toward someone who often carries the heavy burden of announcing difficult news every day, and who might be exhausted, burned out, or emotionally drained.

Being in distress as a patient doesn’t mean the person in front of me isn’t in distress as well. They might be fighting their own invisible battles and facing their own fears, losses, and pressures. With that acknowledgement, suddenly, my anger softened into understanding.

Here in Algeria, we say, “The one who lacks something cannot give it.” If doctors are deprived of rest, kindness, and emotional support, how can they fully offer it to patients? If they are drowning under pressure, how can they always act gently?

I believe anger will never get me what I truly seek in a doctor, which is not only competence, but also humanity, presence, and the ability to listen, as well as the understanding that I am more than just a medical file, antibodies, and symptoms.

I’m not writing this column to excuse bad behavior, but rather to build a bridge between two worlds that are suffering in different ways, yet still together. I hope this heals a few hearts on both sides, reminding patients that doctors are human, and reminding doctors that we patients are more than our diseases. In the end, being there for each other is what we’re supposed to do as human beings.

Note: Myasthenia Gravis News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Myasthenia Gravis News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to myasthenia gravis.