Mechanic

"An auto mechanic's job is no different from a doctor's." That's a fair comment from a colleague of mine during dinner.

To pursue the mechanic analogy, he enthused, "Think about it. We were told the symptoms such as acute diarrhea or cramps, which are presumably external signals of a diseased or malfunctioning organ. A doctor examined the faulty organ whereas a mechanic rummaged around under the hood, figuring out a list of hypotheses to be tested one by one. Sooner or later, we're zeroing in on the ultimate problem. Case closed."

Tempting it is to think that such analogy is a true statement. That's not the right way; really, if you ask me, wrong. To say that a doctor can solve a problem under the hood, as what a mechanic does, would conjure up the image of physicians or surgeons who never talk. For goodness' sake, have you heard a mechanic talking to the automobile engine, "Good morning, how is the day?"

The problem isn't that the auto mechanic needs to talk, it's that a patient is simply different from Mercedes-Benz. A sick engine never responds to soothing voice or empathetic nod; our patients will. And the effect is riveting.