Doctor to Patient: Reversal of Identity

How do you help someone who needs help - but makes life very difficult for others?

What is the right way to respond to someone you love but who is angry and resentful in an emergency situation?  It happened in my family and I have recreated that day here

My great uncle Jim was a very difficult man and an even more difficult hospital patient. But a lot of his bad temper and his irritating comments were due to fear and to envy.

He was in poor health due to heart problems. When he was in his early 70s, his illness became so serious that he had to be hospitalized and was scheduled for surgery.

But he fought us all the way. It took weeks to convince him he was really very sick and had to go in.

Finally we got him into the hospital to prepare for the surgery on a cold January morning. He was handed a green hospital gown and told to wait in his room because the doctor had just arrived for a conference and wanted to talk to him about the operation.

He was - and is - a well known specialist, a distinguished and famous surgeon.

Uncle Jim took one look at the hospital gown and said "THAT'S IT! I'm getting out of here. I will never wear that thing. I don't need this operation. I refuse."

At that moment the doctor walked in and my uncle took one look at him, looked him up and down, and said "FORGET IT, DOC! I'M LEAVING!"

The doctor had heard about my uncle's anger and the constant changing of mind. But he was still surprised. He tried to calm Uncle Jim, but that only made him angrier.

The doctor pointed to a stand-alone screen. "You can go behind that and change into the gown. Then we'll talk about the operation," he said soothingly.

"Look at you!" Uncle Jim snapped. "Look at those fancy clothes you got on!"

And the doctor was indeed a very impressive and imposing man. He was impeccably dressed, dapper and well groomed, dignified and distinguished. He was about twenty years younger than Uncle Jim.

Most of us would be intimidated by him. But not Uncle Jim. He was irritated by him.

The surgeon's very expensive black wool overcoat, silk scarf, sharp navy pinstriped three piece business suit, burgundy silk tie, expensive watch and crisp, starched white shirt were in complete and dramatic contrast to blue-collar Uncle Jim in his old flannel shirt, calloused hands, weathered face and jeans and boots.

The doctor looked spruce, immaculate, successful, a man in authority, from the knife-sharp crease in his suit trousers to the knife sharp part in his hair.

The doctor was holding the white coat he planned to put on, and looked down at himself with a smile. It was true that he seemed a bit arrogant.

"Well, you'll just have to put up with that!" said the doctor in a rather patronizing tone. "Those are the clothes I am wearing!"

"Those shoes must have cost you plenty!" shouted Uncle Jim, pointing at the doctor's mirror-shined black cap-toe shoes. "How much? Well? How much?"

The doctor hesitated, sighed and said, "Eight hundred dollars."

That is all Uncle Jim needed to hear. We tried to calm him down and apologize, but Uncle Jim was already on the way out. And he meant it.

"I ain't going to let any high and mighty doctor in fancy eight hundred shoes and a hotshot suit tell me what to do! He's not gonna stuff me into that stupid hospital dress and make me look a like a FOOL. Forget it. Let HIM wear that thing!"

He started to leave but the doctor pleaded with him to wait just one more minute.

We stepped out in the hall and the doctor explained that my Uncle Jim had 'control issues.' Well, OK but what was the answer? We had waited too long already. He had to have the operation but they couldn't force him. And it was a matter of saving his life.

We were desperate.

"I can't make him, it's true. However..." said the doctor. Then he thought for a moment. "I have an idea. Give me some time with him. Trust me."

We said yes, not hoping for much. The doctor went back in and we heard Uncle Jim yelling. We went to the waiting room.

Forty minutes went by and we were losing hope. Finally a nurse told us we could go back in. We cautiously entered the room and at first thought Uncle Jim was talking to another patient.

But he wasn't.

It was the doctor himself.

With a few changes.

A few very important changes....

Uncle Jim was still fully dressed and sitting on his bed. In the chair across from him, serious, quiet and taking notes was the well known and respected surgeon – only HE was the one wearing the hospital gown! And nothing else.

We were stunned.

What happened to the perfectly dressed, authoritative physician who had calmly and confidently stepped into the room an hour before? He had been utterly transformed.

"We're having a fine time," said Uncle Jim smiling. "I'm ready for the operation. He explained it all! He just had to make some important changes that I asked for!"

"Yes" said the surgeon, looking very embarrassed, but determined. "Your uncle made demands. We have to do this quickly. The nurse on duty is the only one who knows about this and she's leaving soon and I know you are too. I will need her help to get out of here"

I stuttered.. "But...where are all of your clothes? What happened to them?"

Uncle Jim pointed at the closet and pulled out keys.

We were still stunned. We walked over to the closet and Uncle Jim proudly unlocked it.

There was the doctor's three piece pinstriped business suit hanging alone - where the patient's clothes usually are – the jacket on one hanger and the trousers on another and the vest on another. The starched white shirt hung next to them. The overcoat was on still another hanger. The silk necktie, silk winter scarf and the leather belt were placed on hooks. The doctor's OWN clothes, not Uncle Jim's!

"That suit took up three hangers! Look in the top drawer!" There was another key in the lock!

I unlocked and opened the top drawer of the dresser. There were the doctor's cell phone, gold watch, cufflinks, wedding ring, medical school ring, leather gloves, wallet and keys - and his doctor ID.

Even his underwear was there, neatly folded!

"Hank told me that suit is some fancy Italian kind," said Uncle Jim cheerfully.

"Armani," said the doctor with a rueful smile.

"Yeah. Armani. Nice suit, huh? Pinstripe. He ain't allowed to put it back on until we're done talking. He's the patient right now," said Uncle Jim. "Ain't that right Hank? Not even your socks."

The doctor just nodded. "I'm not allowed to put any of my clothes back on until everything is taken care of. I can't believe this is happening."

Hank? Why was he called Hank? "Is that an ID bracelet?" I asked, stunned. Yes, the doctor even wore an ID bracelet on his wrist!

"It sure is!" Uncle Jim was relishing every minute of this.

"What have you done Uncle Jim?" I asked. "WHAT IS GOING ON?" I was too stunned to say anymore. I admit I was only relieved that the operation was on again. But why was the famous surgeon wearing nothing but a hospital gown?

He explained that the doctor asked him what it would take for him to go along with the operation and stop complaining.

He told the doctor that HE would need to know what it feels like to be a patient - and go through the process.

"So I agreed" said the doctor. "I didn't ask questions. I just said yes...And this is what happened..." His clothes had radiated power and authority. He really did look like a different man.

The nurse was told - and even gave him a checklist.

Uncle Jim grinned. It was the first smile I had seen in a long time. It's too bad it was at the famous surgeon's expense!

"I told him get behind that screen and STRIP, just like EVERY PATIENT has to. Mister Big Shot Doctor Armani suit didn't like the idea too much. He thought I wanted him to put the gown on OVER his clothes. I told him would YOU say that to a patient? Just take everything off. Naked as a jaybird. That's what a patient has to do!"

The doctor just nodded and sighed. "So I had to do what the patient does because right now - I AM the patient. It's true. I agreed. Naked as a jaybird as your uncle says"

"And he had a LOT of fancy clothes on when he came in, didn't you Hank? I didn't know how many until he became a patient!"

The doctor just nodded. "I WAS very well dressed when I got here. You would never know it now, though. Your uncle locked all my clothes away."

Hank? I thought the doctor's first name was William?

The doctor sighed again. "It is. But he wouldn't even allow me to keep my name. My middle name is Henry. So he transformed me into Hank..."

"He's not a doctor right now. His name WAS William; now he's Hank. He wanted to keep William but Hank is better - not so high and mighty."

Even the ID bracelet said Hank!

The surgeon looked stunned. "If I walked out of here now, like this, no one would know who I am. I am beginning to understand now what a patient goes through."


The doctor had surrendered his identity so that Uncle Jim would have his life-saving operation!


But Uncle Jim was not an easy man to like. He wasn't grateful. Not at all.

He was filled with envy for people of a higher social and educational level, and he was enjoying his control and humiliation of this famous physician who would soon speak at a conference in front of hundreds of people. The surgeon was almost naked and depending on him for his clothes and possessions. The doctor looked like he might be regretting his decision, but he had promised. And if he refused to play the game now, Uncle Jim would refuse to even consider the operation.

The doctor was in a trap: If he rebelled against his complete humiliation, then Uncle Jim would not have the operation and THE DOCTOR would be blamed!

"You saw his clothes! That's what took so long. It took a while to get everything off him. It was like peeling an onion, one layer after another. I even forced him to him take off his underwear and his wristwatch! What's the name of your Swiss watch Hank?" snapped Uncle Jim, pointing at the doctor.

"Tag Heuer" said the doctor obediently. I understood how the role reversal was changing everything. Now the SURGEON obediently answered the questions while Uncle Jim was directing him!

"I had to know that for my checklist. We argued but I won. I told him – YOU become the patient or I don't stay! So I turned Mister Hot Shot into the patient!" said a triumphant Uncle Jim.

"He’s not a doctor right now. His name isn't William, he is Hank."

"Just don't operate on me." The doctor sighed, shook his head and said, "He drives a hard bargain. He processed ME instead of the other way around. Not much fun for me - taking off all of my clothes when I expected to just have a simple conversation. I didn't enjoy seeing my three piece suit locked up. He as the key! But his life is worth it!"

"Then I put everything away for him just like a real patient. Those shoes are some fancy Italian name too, right Hank?" grinned uncle Jim.

I noticed the doctor's perfectly-polished wingtip brogues sitting on the floor. Their owner, now barefoot and much, MUCH less dapper than he had been, in the flimsy hospital gown intended for the patient, looked at the discarded shoes that he was forbidden to wear and said in a compliant voice, "Yes, Ferragamo."

"Spell that. I don't even know how to say that. But it's a helluva lot easier talking to you when you ain't wearing them on your feet. Eight hundred bucks for one pair of shoes!" said Uncle Jim. "Makes me feel like a bum!"

"Well I'm not wearing them now so let's finish up here," said the doctor, sounding tired. "Let's get this done"

At that moment an orderly walked in and looked in surprise at the new 'patient' – and asked who he was! He had never seen the distinguished doctor before.

But the doctor had agreed that he was NOT a doctor during that time - and Uncle Jim said "He's a new patient! He's a friend of mine called Hank. He works at the meat processing plant."

The orderly said "Oh! You shouldn't be here. The nurse will come to get you and take you to your room. Meat packer? That's a tough job. Hope it goes well for you!".

The doctor - or I should say Hank, the blue collar guy - sat helpless and powerless as the two men discussed him.

The orderly emptied the trash and left.

"Why did you tell him THAT?" said the bewildered doctor. "The meat packing plant? ME?"

Uncle Jim gave him the wicked grin I knew so well. "I just thought it was funny - the famous doctor butchering meat in your Italian suit! Putting you into a blue collar job - don't you think it's funny? I bet that orderly wouldn't believe you came in here in pinstripes!"

"No. It isn't funny" said the doctor, very annoyed.

That was typical of Uncle Jim in his ongoing class warfare - NOTHING gave him more pleasure than blue-collarizing a white collar man.

"Watch that attitude Hank!" snapped Uncle Jim. "Don't get high and mighty with ME! I won't let you have your high class clothes back and that orderly will drag you to another room and lock you in! You think he'll believe you are a surgeon, dressed like that? No wallet?"

"Alright - I am sorry..." said the humiliated doctor. "I'm starting to wonder if I really WAS wearing a business suit when I came in" he said in a sarcastic, bewildered voice.

"Maybe you weren't! Maybe you really ARE a meat packer! HA!" sneered Uncle Jim. He was playing with the doctor's head - a phrase he would never use, but that was what he was doing. And he enjoyed every minute of it.


"Uncle Jim, that's ENOUGH!" I said.

"BUT I'M RIGHT! Nobody would know he was some bigshot!" said Uncle Jim.

The doctor looked stunned. It was as if a light bulb went on in his mind.

He was realizing something that was alarming to think about. Uncle Jim really was RIGHT. The nurse who knew him had left. No one in that hospital that night would know him just by his face. He was visiting from another city.

All of his clothes and identity and personal effects were gone. Uncle Jim had the control. We had to leave soon.  If he wanted to, Uncle Jim could have the surgeon locked in a room as "Hank". Instead of speaking in front of a conference in his dignified three piece suit, he would be given tranquilizers to calm him down dressed in a hospital gown. Even if it was unlikely, it WAS possible.

We talked over the operation and all the details. It was a VERY strange experience sitting with the formerly distinguished and imposing doctor who had been carefully dismantled and deconstructed by his own patient.

When he looked at his wrist I realized there was no designer wrist watch to look at - it had been replaced by the hospital bracelet. He just shook his head.


Looking at the doctor I realized how important clothes and appearance and status are in how we perceive and treat people. The well known and respected surgeon now looked like any patient in the hospital, waiting for an operation.

There was nothing to distinguish him from anyone else, now that Uncle Jim had dismantled him, usurping his 'doctor' image, confiscating all that expensive, tailored designer attire and divesting him of his identity. He had even been stripped of his own name.



His manner now was slightly different - less confident and self assured. The hospital gown that Uncle Jim hated to put on did not really fit the doctor, who was much taller, and he kept pulling it back.

"I never understand why they have that opening in the back," murmured the doctor.

Uncle Jim shouted with laughter. "Big change from your Armani suit, huh? And you're the only one here who isn't wearing shoes! Betcha didn't figure on that when you came in here!"

He picked up one of the Italian shoes. "I think this would look a LOT better on me. What do you think, Hank? What size is your shoe?"

The doctor did not laugh. "Yes, it is a big change from my Armani suit. And you're right – I didn't expect it. But now I understand a lot more"

Uncle Jim commanded: "I asked you - what size is this shoe?" He pointed the shoe at the doctor.

"Hank" said "Size ten".

He shook his head: "Surrendering my identity was much harder than I expected. Allowing the orderly to think I was a patient wasn't easy. And PLEASE don't put my shoes on, even if you think they would look better on you. You will never take them off."

I realized then what that doctor had done for my great uncle.

He had willingly humbled himself, stripped himself of the trappings and symbols of his power and authority - and even his dignity - in order to get his patient to have a life saving operation.

And Uncle Jim was not even grateful for the sacrifice. He was mocking the doctor and openly enjoying his sense of control and power, using the barefoot doctor's own polished shoe as a prop.

But the doctor had succeeded. Uncle Jim would have his operation.

"Now if it's all right with your uncle here I'm going to turn back into a doctor. I have my conference and other patients to see. I can't go anywhere without my clothes or my identification! Do I have your permission to step back into my suit and tie? I'm speaking at a conference in an hour" asked the doctor, bowing to Uncle Jim.

"Yeah, Hank, you can be a doctor again," said Uncle Jim, as if he were doing his own surgeon a huge favor.

"Thank you. I will now take back my name, my title, my profession, my clothes and my education" said the doctor, gathering his belongings, taking his suit, tie and shirt and stepping behind the screen. I handed him the rest of his clothes over the screen.

"May I ask what you did with my dress socks? I can't find them... you didn't throw them in the trash by any chance? In that case I have to find the orderly and ask him for my Brooks Brothers socks. He may not believe they belong to a meat plant worker. I wouldn't be surprised at ANYTHING you do."

"I'm keeping them as a souvenir!" laughed Uncle Jim. "I'll remember this day!  They sure are flimsy. You white collar guys must freeze your feet! I'll give you my white sweat socks and I'll keep these worthless dress socks."

The frustrated doctor stepped out from behind the screen in his full suit, tie overcoat, scarf - everything EXCEPT that he was still barefoot.

"I can't wear cheap white sweat socks with a pinstriped suit and you know it. Now give me my socks. Where are they?"

"I wish I had a camera - seeing you all dressed up and barefoot. Why don't you go out like that?" Uncle Jim laughed, still using the shiny black shoe to point..

"Please just give me my shoes and socks"

Uncle Jim smirked: "Never mind about your socks. You can put your shoes back on!"

"Without my SOCKS!?" said the doctor. "what have you done with my black socks!...."

"Wear these!" and he tossed him an extra pair of old white sweat socks he had brought along.

"WEAR THOSE! With my Italian shoes!" The doctor finally surrendered. "ALRIGHT! I give up. You hid them somewhere. I have to go NOW."

The doctor sat down - and to the delight of Uncle Jim - pulled the cheap, thick, torn socks on his long narrow white feet. They looked absurd next to the Armani pinstripes.

"Now THAT is a big change from those thin fancy socks you had on when you came in!" said uncle Jim.

"At least they're warm" said the doctor grudgingly.

"HA!" shouted Uncle Jim. "Better to have warm feet than fancy socks! I made you think like a blue collar man! You'll never go back all the way now!"

The doctor nodded. "Maybe you're right. After a day with you I feel like I have lost a part of myself. Now PLEASE give me my shoes."

Uncle Jim tossed the Ferragamos to the doctor. He squeezed his feet in their thick socks into the gleaming shoes.

"They don't fit anymore!" said Uncle Jim. "Not with those working man socks on!"

"That's true. They don't. I don't know how I am going to explain these white socks. I've never worn them before with a business suit" said the doctor.

'Tell them its your new look" laughed Uncle Jim.

"It's a relief to have SOMETHING to put on my feet again. They wouldn't let me in the conference in my bare feet!" said the doctor in a dry voice. "It was very strange not being allowed to put my own SHOES on!"

The doctor finally left, exhausted, successful, and wearing Uncle Jim's old socks with his pinstriped suit and Italian shoes..

Uncle Jim grinned and went into the bathroom. He came back carrying a pair of long, thin black dress socks.

"I hid them under the sink" he grinned. "I'm keeping them. Look - it says Brooks Brothers on them. Fancy, huh?"

Uncle Jim came through the operation very well and lived many more years. And we have that doctor to thank for more than that. He was willing to come down to his level and turn himself into a patient.

This event taught me wisdom, courage and humility. We all owe a great deal to that doctor.