I’m not sick, but I will be seeing my doctor today. I’m shadowing him during his morning clinic.

It’s weird how little I know about a doctor’s day, given my wife is a practicing clinician. I’m guessing it’s a juggle of telling patients their Google-based diagnosis is wrong, failing to convince patients to walk 1 or more minutes a day, and saving a life here and there.

The one thing I do know is that my wife always carries survival protein bars with her, so I pack 3.

The day starts with a huddle – they should call it the huddle before the storm. The clinical team says words like PHQ-9 and anosognosia while talking about all the patients for the day. They go fast, yet manage to give every patient genuine consideration and debate, which is nice to see.

My doctor, call him Dr. Payne, is in a leg cast. That makes me wonder what it’s like when the doctor goes to the doctor. Cast or not, I can barely keep up with him. He knows that every minute matters for patient care.

Over the course of 4 hours, Dr. Payne sees 12 patients. For me, it felt like watching 12 emotionally disturbing movies back to back. A woman’s Ex is out of jail and is stalking her, a guy’s open wound has not healed at all in months, and an old person with no family left is clinically depressed. Every visit made me appreciate my easy and healthy life.

Dr. Payne can control time. In one 15-minute visit, he took care of a husband, wife, and child all together. Placing referrals, ordering labs, filling prescriptions, and making each feel heard. But 15 minutes is often not enough. Take the old depressed guy for instance, even I could tell that the conversation barely scratched the surface of his depression.

The day was no less physically draining than it was emotionally. You are on the move, behind schedule, and on 100% from beginning to end. Reviewing patient charts, conducting an exam, curbsiding, listening, explaining, and charting. The doctor is like a bird feeder with 100 birds constantly trying to get a bite. Maybe I should stop asking my wife to do stuff as soon as she's back from a clinic day. Maybe.

And then there’s the EHR.

The EHR is the center of everything. Every visit starts with Dr. Payne reviewing the EHR. Every interaction is documented in the EHR. Every free moment is used to type things into the EHR. The last two hours of the day are spent doing more things in the EHR. Every clinician spends most of their day looking into the EHR. Thankfully, they get a 3-second rest between clicks as the EHR loads.

At some point you wonder, is the real patient the person in the room or the one in the EHR?

This was the first time that I left the doctor’s office sicker than I was before. Emotionally, cognitively, and physically exhausted, I went home midday, happy that I got to recover and not experience the 2nd half.

You kind of have to be perfect to be a doctor. Analytical to diagnose, deeply knowledgeable to connect the dots, emotionally aware to take care of some odd humans, good communicator, and extremely competent. Above all, the special thing for me is how genuinely selfless clinicians are. That's one of the things that made me fall for my wife.

There's nothing I can offer clinicians beyond a thank you, and a small piece of advice: next time a patient is being rude to you, invite them to come watch from the other side.