Where Do Lonely Ex-Professors of Medicine Go?

This week was an exciting re-entry into the world of medical education. Lots of great highs and very few lows as the drug of education entered my veins again.

One of the more interesting events was being corralled at the hospital by a former professor of medicine, now retired, who seemingly was just "hanging out" and l;kely interested in the free breakfast. Before I knew it, he was sharing his expertise on everything from IUD's to hospital politics...before I could even say a word.

So many teachers of medicine, who spend way too many hours at the hospital during their careers. They lose their families to the effort and have only hospital based friendships. They end up hanging on and around way too long. This guy obviously had no place to go except to the hospital, dressed in his sparkling whites. He carried a briefcase filled with articles for instant access to hand to any unsuspecting "short coat" student of medicine like me.

Fact is, I didn't know him and he didn't know me. He barely allowed me enough time to recite my name. But in my zeal and zest to be early (or at least on time) I had some time to kill before rounds one morning. And there I was trapped with Dr. Retired.

He began discussing his history, and it slowly progressed to his expertise. I wasn't allowed to say a word, so it appeared. He droned on about the subject matter as if imparting the great wisdom of the Pharaoh's upon me. It was filled with history, inaccurate assumptions, and pharmacy company rhetoric. And while I learned some things about the subject matter, I learned more about the ego, loneliness, and pomposity of retired pseudo-Ivy professors who spent way too much time proving himself to students, residents, fellows, chairmen, promotion committees, curriculum directors, research boards/IRB's, deans and pharmacy sales folk.  He repeated his appointment title at least 10 times during the conversation as if to emphasize his height and weight over me. And while I appreciate his interest in me and my education, this was nothing more than sad.

But such is the mental challenge of academic medicine and the individuals in it. There are great teachers, researchers and mentors, and then there are the others. At the end of week one, I remain humble, open to learning, and eager to create value in my education for me and my future patient's. I've been exposed to amazing minds this week and I know this is where I belong once again.

 

And as for my brush with Dr. Retired? I'm on this side of the lectern now. And I know I won't ever go to the hospital, free breakfast or not, when I'm retired. Mostly because I may run into some nudnik like me.