From Williams-Sonoma to Medicine: What Retail Taught Me About Difficult Patients

Why It Matters

Understanding the root causes of patient hostility helps clinicians preserve mental health and deliver better care, ultimately reducing burnout and improving outcomes.

Key Takeaways

• Retail exposed physician to direct customer aggression.
• Patient anger often reflects socioeconomic pressures.
• Empathy reduces personal impact of hostile interactions.
• Thick skin enables effective clinical decision‑making.
• Lessons improve physician resilience and patient satisfaction.

Pulse Analysis

In the fast‑paced aisles of Williams‑Sonoma, Jason Wilt learned that a single rude comment can derail an employee’s confidence, a lesson that translates directly to the examination room. Retail workers are trained to de‑escalate confrontations, manage expectations, and remain composed under pressure—skills that are equally vital when a patient lashes out over a diagnosis or a waiting time. By recalling moments when he was treated like a “doormat,” Wilt highlights how early exposure to customer hostility can forge the emotional stamina needed for modern medical practice.

The root of many difficult encounters lies outside the clinic walls. Patients frequently juggle lost wages, costly transportation, and fragmented insurance coverage, turning a routine visit into a financial gamble. When a doctor’s schedule collides with a patient’s work shift or when test results trigger unexpected out‑of‑pocket expenses, frustration can manifest as anger toward the provider. Recognizing these external stressors reframes hostility from a personal affront to a symptom of broader socioeconomic strain, allowing clinicians to respond with targeted empathy rather than defensiveness.

Building a ‘thick skin’ does not mean ignoring patient concerns; it means developing a professional buffer that lets negative emotions roll off without compromising care quality. Practical tactics include brief mindfulness pauses before responding, clear communication about costs, and offering flexible follow‑up options when possible. Institutions can reinforce these habits by providing staff training on de‑escalation and by streamlining billing processes. When physicians internalize retail‑derived resilience, they protect their own well‑being, reduce burnout, and create a calmer environment that ultimately improves patient satisfaction and clinical outcomes.

From Williams-Sonoma to medicine: What retail taught me about difficult patients

Jason Wilt, MD · February 13, 2026

Toward the end of undergrad, I was desperate for money to support myself and feed my figurative babies, which at the time took the form of MCAT prep and medical school applications. This desperation led to some outside‑the‑box thinking about how to make ends meet.

One of the most out‑of‑character things I did was work at Williams‑Sonoma. My main motivation for working there was that it was right next to a Miami Metrorail stop. So, I could hop on the Metro stop at the University of Miami and not risk my car breaking down, spending gas money, or having to pay for parking.

The retail reality check

Prior to starting, I could not tell you the difference between Lacrosse and Le Creuset. And on my first day working there, a patron actually brayed to the person working the cash register next to me, “Is it his first day?”

Shortly after that, one of my coworkers said, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to being treated subhuman here.”

For reference, no one ever dropped the “first day line” while I attended medical school, and for the entirety of my professional career thereafter.

So what does getting treated like a doormat have to do with being a doctor?

No matter how objectively good a doctor is, or how many accolades they may possess, there’s a great chance that they still draw the ire of some patients. Sometimes this is related to a poor fit between a doctor and a patient, and sometimes it has nothing at all to do with that.

Translating retail resilience to medicine

The PG version of one of my residency attending’s favorite sayings is, “These patients all have crappy life syndrome.”

A quote like that can be taken a lot of ways, but the way I take it is that life is harder for most of our patients than it is for us, so sometimes you just can’t take hostility personally as a doctor.

It simply does not matter how many warm blankets you can hand out, how many TVs your clinic may have, or the amount of genuflecting a doctor performs for the patient‑survey gods; some patients just don’t want to be there. Not only because they are worried about something medically wrong with them, but because the very act of being in the clinic may be causing them to lose money through lost wages and transportation costs.

I once had a patient who thanked me for calling them about test results because they were worried about having to rent a car to drive into my office for a follow‑up appointment.

Or, waiting in an urgent‑care to treat a laceration sustained from some unexpected, idiotic Dick Van Dyke Show‑type of fall might be making them miss out on having a date night with their partner.

And finally, their insurance may not even cover their visit with you, or it may cover such a small part of the expenses that both you and the patient question the point of them even having insurance.

Developing a thick skin

Now, I don’t think doctors should let people or patients walk all over them. However, we all, including me, should strive to reach a place where people may stomp us, but they can’t leave a footprint.

For me, that place comes from realizing that there are countless things out of my control that could be making patients apt to have a short fuse with me. Working in retail showed me how to get to a similar place with overwhelmed or anxious customers before even starting medical school, and I still try to hold on to those lessons of humility and understanding to this day.

I constantly remind myself that if I allow patient frustration and anger directed at me to roll off my back, not only does it free me up to better help the disrespectful person, but it also helps me feel lighter. And that is priceless to me.

Jason Wilt is an emergency and sports‑medicine physician.