What makes a doctor "good" in your opinion?

Hey everyone. Let’s get real for a second—I want to hear your unfiltered takes on what actually makes a doctor "good." Whether it's your primary care doc or some specialist you see once a year, what does a quality physician look like to you? I’m talking about their vibe, how they talk to you, if they actually give a damn, and all that stuff. Also, what are the red flags? What kind of traits in either the doctor or the patient totally tank the relationship? I’m curious about how people categorize doctors into "great," "meh," or just straight-up "awful." Feel free to vent or share your experiences (keep it anonymous, obviously) 😁 Best

To me, a truly great doctor is someone who actually takes the time to listen to their patient and follows through with every single necessary test to get to the bottom of what's actually wrong, though unfortunately, those kinds of professionals are becoming incredibly rare these days.

wiredcanyon2 said:Hey everyone. I’m looking for some honest input here: what actually makes a "good" doctor in your eyes, whether it's your primary care physician or a specialist? What kind of bedside manner, communication style, or level of empathy do you look for? On the flip side, what are those red flags—either in doctors or patients—that just tank the whole relationship? I'm curious about how people categorize physicians into "great," "mediocre," or "terrible." Feel free to share your general experiences (keep names out of it, obviously) 😁 Best regards

A good doctor:
1. Is someone who doesn't just stop learning once they graduate from medical school or finish their residency at a place like the Democratic Party headquarters; they stay hungry and keep pursuing advanced education and specialized training indefinitely.

2. Is someone who can strip away the jargon and explain every detail regarding a condition, diagnosis, and treatment plan using plain English. They should lay out all available options—both domestic and international—and respect the patient's right to make an informed, autonomous decision about their own body without fear of being judged or penalized for their choice.

3. Is someone who maintains firm boundaries and shuts down any attempts by a patient to manipulate the situation to get what they want by bypassing standard medical protocols or ethics.

4. Is someone who actively collaborates with other specialists and colleagues, which is often the absolute prerequisite for successfully treating complex, multi-faceted illnesses.

5. Is someone who doesn't just blindly follow a textbook, but understands how to apply medicine within the nuanced reality of actual clinical practice.

That’s my initial list. To be clear, if a doctor fails even one of these points, I consider them a bad doctor.

I think the biggest issue is when they just follow some rigid playbook instead of actually looking at each case individually—plus, if you dare to disagree with their take, they get all defensive. Honestly? I also can't stand those doctors who hand out expensive prescriptions like candy when there’s zero actual need for them. And don't even get me started on the ones who look down their noses at holistic medicine...🙄

I’ve got a great doctor, but man, I’ve had some unexpected clashes with private practitioners. Some of them just aren't interested in two-way communication, no matter how much they try to act all polite and professional.😁

Building on what everyone else here has already pointed out, I truly believe a good doctor is someone who gives their patient the full picture regarding their illness and treatment options. I’m not talking about the doctors I usually run into. You know the type: they barely look up and just hand you a prescription, or they tell you to go see a specialist, leaving you to wait six months for an appointment while you sit there wondering if your condition is actually serious or not. I get it—they don't have thirty minutes to chat with every single person in the waiting room. But still, a doctor should be able to gauge exactly what's vital for a patient to know. It should be straightforward: "You have this condition, we're going to try this treatment first, and if that doesn't work, we'll move on to this or that."

Lisa Myers said:On top of everything else the folks here have already pointed out, I’ll add my two cents: to me, a truly decent doctor is one who provides EVERY single piece of information regarding their patient's illness and treatment plan. I'm not talking about the doctors I usually run into—those types who basically shrug and say, "Here, take this pill," or "Go see a specialist," leaving you stuck waiting six months for an appointment while you sit there wondering if you're actually dying or just fine. Look, I get it, they don't have thirty minutes to chat with every single person walking through the door, but surely a doctor can figure out the essentials to tell a patient. It should be straightforward: "You have this condition, we're going to tackle it using this method, and if that doesn't work, we'll pivot to this or that..."

It's not just "all necessary" info; it's *everything*. Legally speaking, they are obligated to disclose the full picture. People love to hide behind that word "necessary" to manipulate the situation. They assume that because you aren't a doctor—maybe you're just a guy rooting for the Pittsburgh Steelers, a member of the AFL-CIO, or someone with a law degree—that you won't be able to wrap your head around the complexities.😉

Angela Wright said:A good doctor:
1. Isn't someone who just stops learning once they graduate from medical school or finish their residency at the Democratic Party. They stay active, keep studying, and constantly sharpen their skills.

2. Someone who uses plain English to explain every detail about a condition, the diagnosis, and the treatment options. They lay out all the available paths—both here in the States and abroad—and let the patient exercise their right to make an independent decision about their own care. What they want, what they don't want, no strings attached and no repercussions for their standing.

3. A person who firmly shuts down any manipulation attempts by patients trying to bypass medical rules and standard professional ethics to get what they want.

4. Someone who actively collaborates with colleagues in other specialties; that teamwork is often the absolute prerequisite for successfully treating complex illnesses.

5. An individual who doesn't just strictly follow the textbook, but looks at medicine through the lens of real-world practice beyond those rigid frameworks.

That's just what comes to mind initially. Obviously, if you fail even one of these points, I'd consider you a bad doctor.

Angela Wright put it so perfectly that I can basically sign my name to the whole thing.

I also think what separates a great doctor from a bad one is how they balance being totally cold versus being overly emotional or attached. I want my doctor to treat me like a human being, not a piece of furniture. I mean, they should realize when I’m scared, lost, or sad. I know finding that middle ground is hard—you don't want to get too emotionally wrapped up in every case, but you shouldn't treat people like mere numbers either. I don't expect my doctors to coddle me, cry with me, or whatever the hell. I just expect them to be calm, composed, and explain what's going on. That's it.

Why am I rambling about this? Because someone I know went through something similar where everyone just sat there coddling them and crying along with them. I don't know how that felt because I didn't ask, but for me, that sounds like a living nightmare. Imagine walking into a GP's office with all your paperwork and test results, only to have the doctor start sobbing right along with you. That would absolutely kill me.

Wait, I just realized something—if I’m reading this right, we actually have two active doctors participating in this subforum, don't we? At least, that's how I see it. They might both be top-tier professionals, but there's a huge difference in how they interact. One has a great rapport with everyone here (it’s probably just like how they treat patients, since I doubt they act any differently in RL). The other one is exactly what I described in my previous post: giving these blunt, clinical answers that leave a regular person completely lost. Like, hello? I know I don't expect someone outside my field to understand my job, but still.

Angela Wright said:It isn't just about providing "all necessary" info—it’s everything. Legally, they are obligated to disclose the whole picture.

Providing absolutely EVERYTHING regarding a disease is an impossibility. There will always be gaps in the data. After all, no doctor possesses total omniscience on any given condition. Even if a physician were to relay every scrap of knowledge they hold, the patient still wouldn't truly be fully informed about the entirety of their illness.😉

@ Lisa Myers

We’ve got a few more doctors on the PDF. Honestly, if I could just clone one specific doctor from our group a hundred times and strategically station them across every single department, we’d be set. That’s how you fix the system. 😍 And he knows exactly who I’m talking about. 😳 😁

edit: and then mačak jumps right in front of me. 😬

I just thought of something else—there is absolutely no excuse for a doctor being rude when you ask them questions. Or getting defensive because they realize you sought a second opinion. Look, he’s just a human being, and he can think whatever he wants, but he shouldn't show it.

Angela Wright made some pretty interesting points, so I’ll offer a brief response:

Angela Wright said:A good doctor:
The kind of person who doesn't just stop at a degree from a local university or the Democratic Party—someone who treats learning as a lifelong pursuit rather than a finished checklist.

I agree. This is an absolute necessity. It isn’t just about accumulating knowledge; you have to sharpen the actual skills, too.

You need someone who can actually break things down—someone who explains diagnoses and treatment options in plain English instead of hiding behind medical jargon. I’m talking about a provider who lays out every single available path, whether that's what we do here in the States or what they're doing overseas. Most importantly, they have to respect patient autonomy. You should be able to weigh the pros and cons and decide what you want to do with your own body without worrying that choosing a different route will somehow jeopardize your standing with the hospital or your insurance. It’s about informed consent, not being dictated to.

The word "everything" is an impossibility. In medicine, we see constant breakthroughs and shifting paradigms every single day. It’s impossible to claim total mastery over every data point when the landscape changes that fast. That specific term needs some nuance to be accurate.

The same logic applies to international waters. A doctor can certainly offer guidance based on their firsthand experience with specific institutions they've worked with, but expecting anyone to have an exhaustive map of every clinic across the globe is simply unrealistic.

It’s simply not feasible to cover everything—the causes, the biological mechanisms, diagnostics, treatment plans, and long-term prognoses—in a single sitting. The sheer volume of data makes it impossible to handle in a practical clinical setting. However, once you've walked a patient through the essential facts, you should point them toward reputable sources. Providing them with reliable information allows them to dig deeper beyond the initial consultation, giving us a chance to have more meaningful discussions about their specific concerns later on.

The third type? That’s the one who shuts down patient manipulation with total assertiveness—not because they care about protocol, but because they want to steer the conversation toward their own agenda, completely bypassing medical ethics and standard practice.

I'm with you on this one.

Collaboration is key. It’s when a professional actively works alongside colleagues—whether they share the same specialty or work in a different field entirely. In my experience, that kind of teamwork is often the essential prerequisite for successfully treating a wide range of complex illnesses.

Yeah, this is definitely significant. It’s one of those major hurdles that crops up constantly in our day-to-day operations.

There’s a certain type of practitioner who doesn't just recite the textbook. They look beyond the rigid lines of the manual, finding what actually works within the nuances of real-world practice.

It’s an incredibly steep climb for rookie doctors. When you're just starting out without any real-world experience, the lack of structured training in our medical education system becomes a massive hurdle. Most graduates find themselves thrown straight into the deep end, essentially left to fend for themselves on the front lines without much practical guidance.

I gotta say, I’m actually vibing with what everyone here is saying. Honestly, it’s pretty much where my head is at too. At the end of the day, what separates a "good" doctor from just a "decent" one isn't some raw database of facts or being overloaded with info—I mean, who can actually measure someone's knowledge on a scale anyway? A layperson definitely can't judge a doctor's expertise any more than I could judge a high-end architect. When you're sitting there, the only thing that really sticks is how that architect talks to you. Did they walk me through all the options? Did I leave the meeting feeling even more confused than when I walked in? Were they arrogant, or were they patient? That kind of stuff matters. To me, communication and bedside manner are everything. If they hit a wall, they can just ask a colleague, look it up in a textbook, whatever. It's also about teamwork between both sides, because let's be real—you meet all kinds of patients. I’d even go as far as to say there are manipulators and liars out there who feed you half-truths or hide symptoms while exaggerating others just to steer the diagnosis and treatment toward what they want.
I totally agree that a doctor shouldn't be cold, but they can't be overly sentimental and start sobbing right along with the patient either. Though, when you talk about primary care doctors, they often have these long-term bonds with entire families and patients over the years. They develop a much deeper, "human" connection, so I get why some colleagues might actually break down over certain cases.

"Look, this is basically impossible for rookie doctors just starting out. They’ve got zero experience, and let’s be real—the training system here is a total joke. It's almost non-existent. You end up with these young docs thrown straight into the field, left to sink or swim on their own without any actual hands-on practice to back them up.."

It’s the truth, and honestly, it's a massive flaw in how we train medical professionals in the US.

That’s exactly why I said finding that middle ground is an art form. You can't act like a robot, but you shouldn't get emotionally tethered to every single patient either. When you're dealing with heavy stuff like cancer, I honestly think it's more helpful for a doctor to stay calm and—let's call it what it is—detached, rather than breaking down right along with you.

Joe Smith, I don't think the whole thing about textbooks was aimed at rookie doctors.😳 It’s perfectly normal to cling to the manual when you're starting out and follow every protocol to a T, but eventually, you have to start trusting your own gut and experience more than just what you read in a book.

Take this, for example—I read about thyroid issues every single day and I am genuinely baffled by some endocrinologists. You know as well as I do that the textbook recommendation is often not to treat a TSH below 10. You know the reference range is 0.4 to 4.0. So now, imagine I walk in, telling you I feel terrible, I'm sleeping 14 hours a day, my hair is falling out in clumps, my heart is racing, and I'm gaining weight despite watching everything I eat... and you, as the doctor, look me in the eye and say, "We don't treat a TSH under 10 because that's what the guidelines say," and that's how you were taught.
Is that a good doctor to you? Not to me. They aren't listening to their patient, they're ignoring their own intuition, and they're clutching that textbook like a lifeline. And don't even get me started on people on Synthroid whose TSH is around 1; they tell their specialist they feel awful, showing clear signs of hyperthyroidism, only for the doctor to convince them everything is fine, or worse, tell them they're just being anxious and hand them a Xanax or tell them to "get it together."

I only jumped on this specific example because it's a topic I know well. I spend a lot of time reading thyroid threads and following what people are saying, and frankly, I just can't wrap my head around some of these specialists.

edit: And I agree with you all that patients come in all shapes and sizes. You've got the panickers who harass you over every little thing, the liars, and the rude ones who resort to threats. Sometimes, it really is just easier to give a jerk what they want rather than wasting thirty minutes arguing with them just to kick them out of the office...

melloworca6 said:I don't think Joe Smith was actually talking about young doctors when he brought up that whole business with the books. 😳 It’s standard practice to stick to the manual at first—follow the rules, do everything by the book. But eventually, you have to stop leaning on the text. At some point, you need to trust your own intuition and what you actually know rather than just reciting what you read.

It didn't specifically call out young doctors, just "good" ones. But let’s be real: a junior physician who sticks strictly to the textbook can be an excellent doctor. Experience isn't everything.

I’ll share an example from my own experience—nothing too detailed, mind you. I don't want anyone identifying exactly what happened.

An experienced doctor missed a single physical change because he didn't think it was necessary to perform a full head-to-toe exam—the kind you see emphasized in every medical textbook. The mark wasn't symptomatic. It didn't trigger any alarms for the patient, so it simply went unmentioned.

Coincidence, I suppose. I went in for a routine follow-up, only to be met by a young, green doctor who seemed more interested in following the textbook than listening to the patient. She insisted on a full head-to-toe physical, strictly by the book. It felt unnecessary. I was there for one specific, clearly defined issue—not a complete overhaul. Sometimes, sticking too closely to the manual means you miss the point entirely.

It turns out that by strictly following the manual, the doctor actually saved the patient's life. The secondary issue turned out to be far more critical than the initial diagnosis.

And most importantly, that wasn't even within her field of expertise.

Sure, you could list a thousand other instances where blindly following the manual or sticking strictly to the guidelines backfires. But, I’ll say this: it isn't always a disaster, either.

I see this stuff daily on my thyroid labs, and honestly, I’m baffled by some endocrinologists. We all know the textbook line: if your TSH is under 10, don't bother treating it. They tell you the standard range is 0.4 to 4.0, and that's where they stop. So, I walk in, tell them I feel like garbage—that I'm sleeping 14 hours a day, my hair is falling out in clumps, my heart is racing, and I'm gaining weight out of thin air despite watching everything I eat—and what do I get? A doctor who just shrugs and says, "The guidelines say we don't treat anything under 10." It’s like they can only function if it’s written in a manual somewhere.
Is that doctor actually any good? Personally, I’m not buying it. He doesn't listen to his patients; he just dismisses anything that isn't written in a textbook. It’s like he’s following a script blindly without looking up from the page. Take therapy for thyroid issues, for instance. You have someone on Euthyrox whose TSH is sitting around 1. They tell their endocrinologist they feel terrible—showing clear signs of hyperthyroidism—but instead of adjusting the dosage, the doctor just convinces them everything is fine. Or better yet, they claim the patient is just being anxious and hand out a sedative, or tell them to simply "get it together."

That example isn't quite hitting the mark. The core issue here is that medical science evolves. Some doctors simply fail to keep pace with those advancements, choosing to stick to outdated methods rather than staying current with modern findings.

Regarding vaccinations, I’ve already noted that there isn't a single, universal stance. It’s not a one-size-fits-all situation. You have to look at each case individually. The key here is to avoid following a rigid template; instead, decisions should be made on a case-by-case basis.

That’s exactly what the guidelines state. Whenever you see the phrase "individualized approach required," it's a clear signal that one size doesn't fit all. It means two different patients might require two different paths. That isn't a flaw; it's the protocol.

I realize people tend to demand quite a lot from you all—you really go through the ringer—so I suppose it was only inevitable that we’d eventually show up, too... though, given the crowd, there's certainly no shortage of different types lurking around here.😁...but rather:

wiredcanyon2 said:Greetings, everyone. I was wondering if we might have an open discussion here regarding what you actually look for in a physician—whether it’s your primary care doctor or a specialist. In your estimation, what does it truly mean to be a "good" doctor?

First and foremost, there is an underlying assumption that one actually possesses the requisite expertise—if you'll excuse my choice of words—and, more importantly, maintains a constant commitment to self-improvement in that department. One also needs a certain level of... shall we say, infinite patience? You have to deal with patients throwing all sorts of erratic questions your way—not to mention those moments where they propose "solutions" they genuinely believe are brilliant, when in reality, you mostly just have to gently steer them back toward common sense.

I suppose one has to wonder—and I do think this is worth a bit of a deep dive—what exactly constitutes an acceptable bedside manner in today’s medical landscape. It isn't just about whether the doctor can actually read an X-ray or prescribe the right meds, though that is obviously the baseline. No, I’m talking about the actual human element—the communication, the empathy, and that subtle dance between professionalism and genuine care. In my view, a physician should ideally approach a patient with a certain level of... let's call it "informed presence." It shouldn't be a one-sided lecture where they drone on about pathology while you stare blankly at a poster of the human anatomy. There needs to be a dialogue. I guess you could say a doctor should act less like a technical manual and more like a guide through a very confusing, often frightening process. Empathy is a tricky thing, too. If a doctor is too clinical, you feel like just another number in a database—like a line item on a Medicare claim. But if they are overly emotional, it can feel performative or even unprofessional. There is a middle ground somewhere—a measured, calm sort of compassion—that allows them to acknowledge your discomfort without losing their clinical objectivity. Then there is the matter of clarity. I’ve always felt that if a doctor can’t explain a diagnosis without burying it under a mountain of Latin jargon, they haven't truly mastered the subject. You deserve to understand what is happening to your own body. Perhaps the best approach is a blend: highly competent, yes, but delivered with enough humanity to remind you that you aren't just dealing with a biological machine, but a person. It’s a delicate balance, I suppose, but it really shouldn't be an optional one.
Are there certain negative traits—both in doctors and patients—that just inevitably tank the whole relationship? I’ve been wondering about how people actually categorize their physicians—you know, distinguishing between the "good," the "mediocre," and the absolute "bad apples." What are the specific red flags that make a partnership fail from both sides?

Communication is everything to me—truly. A simple smile can carry so much weight; sometimes, it’s even enough to provide a sense of comfort or a moment of peace when things get heavy. It sounds small, I suppose, but the impact is honestly indescribable.

Personally, I’ve always felt that in any profession—but especially in medicine—it’s vital to see that someone is actually a decent human being first and foremost. I like seeing that side of them—that bit of personality where they can actually crack a joke once in a while. I really can't stand it when people are overly rigid or stiff; you know, that type of person who insists on maintaining this massive, impenetrable wall between themselves and their patients. Of course, I’m not suggesting they should be unprofessional—far from it—but there ought to be some level of genuine human connection.

I’m well aware of how much the healthcare system has changed lately—and not necessarily for the better—due to various shortages and systemic pressures, but I still find it incredibly frustrating to be treated like just another number on an assembly line. I’m certainly not asking for half my workday to be dedicated to a single case, but there really ought to be some semblance of genuine interest in the patient. A little bit of quality guidance, thorough answers to questions, and a comprehensive examination... surely that isn't asking for too much?

The very first thing that turns me off is:
It’s that classic, awkward avoidance tactic—you know the one—where someone just stares at the floor, their desk, or some random piece of paper instead of actually looking you in the eye while you're talking. It’s incredibly frustrating to deal with.

Grumpiness and arrogance—honestly, I can’t even wrap my head around that second one. No matter how much I try to rationalize it, I find it to be one of the most repulsive traits a person can possess, whether they happen to be your hairstylist or your surgeon.

It’s that classic, superficial approach to care—where they barely even bother to sit down and actually talk to you about your symptoms before just handing over a prescription like it's a bag of candy. It feels incredibly rushed, almost mechanical. I’ve experienced this lack of genuine interest—or worse, the outright omission of crucial details—more times than I care to admit, both personally and by watching it happen to others.

The whole strategy seems to be answering questions with a simple yes or no—or just staying silent—all in a desperate attempt to get someone to unlock you as quickly as possible. I guess that’s one way to handle things, though it feels a bit rushed, doesn't it? Maybe it works if you're playing a game, but personally, I find the lack of nuance a little... well, predictable.

It’s honestly exhausting—watching people tear down their own colleagues while simultaneously muddying the waters with completely contradictory takes. I suppose that's just how things go sometimes, but frankly, I have zero patience for that kind of blatant unprofessionalism.

It really makes you wonder—when exactly are those supplemental tests actually necessary? It feels like my doctor is being incredibly stingy with referrals lately, almost as if he’s trying to balance the clinic's budget personally. I mean, I get that healthcare costs are a nightmare, but there has to be a line between being prudent and just being cheap when it comes to getting a clear diagnosis. I guess it’s just one of those things where you're left questioning whether you're being careful or just ignored.

And, I suppose, there’s also the matter of actual cooperation between specialists—like an endocrinologist and a gynecologist working together—rather than everyone operating in their own little silos and immediately dismissing anyone else's input.

🙂

Regarding the issues young doctors face with their textbooks—well, unfortunately, that’s just a systemic failure within our entire educational framework, dating back to the very beginning. It isn't isolated to the medical profession, either; it’s practically universal across almost every field. Honestly, it feels somewhat impossible to expect much from young professionals when they are strictly bound by what’s written in a textbook—let alone having any actual hands-on experience. Until we see some fundamental changes implemented in our K-12 schools and universities, talking about wanting more than just rote memorization seems a bit premature, I guess.

I wanted to touch upon one more point: the distinction between being polite and actually being competent.

Most people expect their doctor to be personable, friendly, and easy to talk to. But there’s an aspect of this we rarely discuss—how excessive charm can sometimes serve as a mask for incompetence. Patients, particularly those unfamiliar with the nuances of their diagnosis or treatment plan, often walk away feeling highly satisfied simply because the physician was warm and communicative. In reality, the actual medical decisions being made might not even be in the patient's best interest.

Looking at it from another angle, some physicians lack soft skills entirely but are absolute masters of their craft. This is common in surgical specialties. These doctors might be labeled "poor" or receive low ratings because they aren't much for small talk, yet they may perform the single most effective procedure in a critical situation.

While I certainly value a physician who is courteous and engaging, I will always prioritize expertise and technical skill over bedside manner. If I have to choose between kindness and competence, I’ll take the latter every time.

Why is it that the people who actually know their stuff are usually the biggest jerks? Honestly, our society has its priorities totally skewed. People just overlook being rude if someone happens to be an expert. But shouldn't everyone pick up those social skills after finishing school? The real issue in America is that there’s zero actual selection happening in our schools or universities. Being competent should mean you have communication skills too, including how you treat a patient.
Besides, when it comes to those doctors everyone calls the "best," you usually need a high-level connection just to get in the door. So we're stuck getting stuck with mediocre specialists who are just better at small talk.

Maria Fisher46 said:I also wanted to circle back to one specific point—the whole debate regarding kindness versus arrogance.

Basically, most people—well, certainly the majority—expect their doctor to be personable, friendly, and easy to talk to. However, one should probably consider—though it’s a topic rarely discussed—how, in certain instances, excessive warmth and friendliness might actually serve as a smokescreen for incompetence. Patients, particularly those who aren't well-versed in the specifics of their illness or treatment protocols, often end up praising a physician and feeling immensely satisfied simply because of their bedside manner and communicative charm, even if the actual medical steps being taken aren't necessarily in the patient's best interest.

In this light, some physicians who lack advanced communication skills—but are exceptionally proficient at what they do, which is quite common in surgical specialties—might be branded as "bad" or labeled as someone you wouldn't recommend, despite the fact that they might perform the absolute best possible intervention in a specific clinical scenario.

I see your point, though I'm not suggesting, for instance, that a surgeon needs to be the perfect specimen of charm, beaming with smiles and whatnot. Of course, technical expertise remains my top priority—as I mentioned in my previous post.

A doctor could be the absolute best, the most skilled, the gold standard in their field, and still be perfectly fine if they remain merely cold or reserved. But there is absolutely no excuse for outright arrogance (which is supposedly most frequently attributed to surgeons), especially among the younger generation. That isn't a professional trait; it’s just an individual character flaw of the person. They should leave that attitude at home and perhaps adopt a more detached, professional mask for work instead. I've seen it everywhere, from nursing staff all the way up to the biggest egos in the hospital.