Today a patient’s mother reported that she had seen me at the gym. Apparently she and her husband had seen me working out and briefly debated whether I was the doctor in question. I was able to confirm that I in fact had been at the Y over the weekend, sans khakis.
It’s a strange feeling to know you’ve been seen, especially when you didn’t know you were being seen at the time.
And I often run into mothers in the grocery store. For some reason they always look into my cart. Looking in someone’s grocery cart is an intimate act, I think. Especially when you dole out nutritional advice for a living.
There are parents who have picked me up on Twitter. Microblogging is another place where I disclose parts of myself not seen in the clinic. For better or worse.
The gym, grocery store and Twitter are personal spaces. But as long as my patients don’t mind seeing me speak my mind in my Underarmour with a 5 o’clock shadow and a package of Mallowmars in my cart, I’m good.
I guess this is what the social media experts call transparency.