By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

I wrote a column in 2018 about the arrogance and poor listening skills of some doctors ("Tyranny of the White Coat”). I ended it with these words: “It’s a sad state of affairs when you take a liking to a doctor because they took the rare action of actually listening, hearing and respecting their patient.”

Most physicians see the exam room as a teeter-totter; the doctor sitting high up on one side and the patient below them on the ground. That is often still the case, but I notice when I go to blogs written by doctors (such as KevinMD), that they often write about the loss of respect they find almost everywhere.

Doctors no longer have the “power of the white coat.” In public settings such as hospitals and restaurants, the staff no longer looks at them in awe or bow down to their titles: “Yes doctor, your table is waiting for you.”

I understand the sadness from losing status as the top gun, but I thought most doctors went into medicine to help their patients, not for the superiority their degree gives them. I thought the work they put in at medical school was to learn their craft, not to use as a banner of privilege: “I spent years in school and had to work very, very hard to get where I am. Therefore, I deserve to be looked at as superior.”  

I also go to blogs written by patients, many with chronic pain, and I read the opposite: “How dare these 'doctors' think they're so much better than me? I shouldn't have to be obeisant to them, yet that's what they want from me.”

What if we didn't have the hierarchy of the exam room? What if we were able to come together as patients and doctors, to have a round table or focus group where we could talk freely? How educational that would be, for both sides.

We could then look at doctors as our equals and they could see us in the same way -- not someone to be talked down to. Too many doctors seem to believe we are uninformed, misinformed or just ignorant, and need to be spoken to like a 12-year-old.

We might then see the doctor as a person, someone with more knowledge and experience with our diseases and disorders. Someone who can be a helper, not a protagonist. We could then see them as teachers, which in many ways they are.

What a great appointment that would be. We’d smile at each other and see one another as human.

Carol Jay Levy has lived with trigeminal neuralgia, a chronic facial pain disorder, for over 30 years. She is the author of “A Pained Life, A Chronic Pain Journey.”  Carol is the moderator of the Facebook support group “Women in Pain Awareness.” Her blog “The Pained Life” can be found here.