"It's DOCTOR Evil. I didn't go to evil medical school to be called mister, thank you very much."
- Dr. Douglas Evil
I have made it a point to never refer to myself or any of my colleagues as "providers." It has always felt demeaning and depersonalizing to me. After all, I didn't go to medical school to be called a "provider." I went to medical school (along with just about every other doctor that I know) to become a doctor and to care for sick and well individuals and their families. To be called a provider is to demean the essence of the doctor-patient relationship. I don't think patients want to share their most intimate stories and information with a provider; they want to build a relationship of trust with a doctor, as humans have doing, going back centuries and millenia. Does a provider have the same ethical standards as a doctor? Is a provider held to the same level of accountability as a doctor? Are providers and doctors interchangeable terms? Are patients simply consumers who consume whatever service I, as a provider, provide?
The answer is a resounding no. That being the case, these terms should never be conflated.
Which begs the question: where did the term "provider" originate? It appears to have originated from the place where some of the very best and wonderful things have sprung to life, that wellspring of innovation and futureproofing. Yes, that's right: the US government. Medicare regulations referred to "providers" in its great wisdom, perhaps suggesting that doctors weren't the only ones who cared for patients. But this catchall term, more likely borne out of convenience for the poor apparatchiks who were drafting the legislation rather than prophecy, had a catch: providers aren't doctors or vice versa. And the doctor-patient relationship is not based on a commercial transaction.
And its not just doctors. I don't think nurses or PAs or EMTs or anyone else wants to be called a provider for the same reasons. The term demeans the expertise, the commitment, and the fundamental sanctity of what it means to care for another human being. It turns something intrinsically special into something generic and mundane. Like going to a fast food restaurant when what you really desire is a fine dining experience.
But I can hear the administrators whine: "oh come on! I'm not going to specify whether a provider is a doctor, or a PA, or a respiratory tech, for pete's sake! That's inconvenient and I'm way too busy for that!"
And maybe that's the whole point.