The Space Between

I occasionally run into a physician that I will call Dr. Johnson (after Lyndon Johnson, above). Dr. Johnson is an interesting man to me, because he has obvious issues with his self-esteem, which is not recommended for a surgeon.

Dr. Johnson is not a skilled physician. He has, in fact, been asked to refrain from operating on patients, or performing any otherwise invasive procedures. He came up with a convenient case of carpal tunnel syndrome (which, curiously, in only his case, can't be surgically cured) which allowed him to gracefully change the nature of his practice from surgical to medico-legal.

It is my opinion that Dr. Johnson has never been particularly intelligent or socially skilled. I suspect that he was admitted to medical school because his father and sister are doctors. I also suspect that he graduated at the bottom of his class.
Surgeons are trained to be infallible... to find fault for errors anywhere but with themselves. Although it makes them difficult to deal with on personal level, it is, in the end, a very good thing that someone who holds the lives of others literally in their hands should be supremely confident.
In Dr. Johnson's case, he had to find his confidence somewhere... so he compensated.
He married a quite lovely woman, who obviously is in love with her lifestyle... but I wonder about how in love with him she is. He buys his clothes from the finest catalogs, then tells you about it. ("They don't even print the price") He takes a month off each year to sail his yacht.

He interacts with people as if he has been taught to "be a good listener"- and I think that is what repulses me about him. I can smell his bullshit. I get the weird feeling that I intimidate him, and so he really turns on the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People when I'm around.

He leans in, much too close, when he talks to me, and looks me right in the eye like a dog trying to establish dominance. He tries to make small talk, but he fails miserably. I try to uh-huh and look busy, but he doesn't get the hint. Today I had to tell him that he was too close.

"Can you back up a little?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable..."

But I know that he had meant to, and I think he was happy that I admitted it.

I should have offered him a breath mint.