After 30 years of practice and expertise in family medicine, with two specialties—one in Romania in general and preventive medicine for four years, and another in family medicine with Michigan State University for three years—I had my first forced vacation. Three weeks ago, I had a total hip replacement, which went excellently. I’m in great shape, but staying home 24/7 is something new. I discovered that the day feels much longer when you’re at home. I read three books in a week, wrote three chapters of a novel, and even had time to write articles. One topic that’s been on my mind is: What is a family doctor? What advice do I have for the new generation of family doctors?
I am a true family medicine doctor. I grew up in Romania, and my mother was the director of internal medicine. She worked for 45 years and built a reputation stronger than Dracula’s. She was so respected that I remember walking through town and seeing people take their hats off in her presence. She was loved like Princess Diana in her county.
I trained from a young age, with no babysitter, growing up on the floors of Zarnesti Hospital. I enjoyed the freedom of wandering through the hospital, from the cafeteria to the children’s toys, but most of all, I loved the gossip. The hospital was like a live telenovela. I learned a lot about compassion, sacrifice, and responsibility, along with the most useful lessons about what not to do in a hospital and with patients.
My mom taught me that the art of medicine is to listen to patients. They will tell you what’s wrong with them if you can translate their language into a medical algorithm. You must also use your healing power—love and compassion—to care for the poor and truly sick people. Many providers take shortcuts in life, selecting only the rich and healthy people and focusing their skills on them. A true doctor takes the compassionate path, caring for the sick and needy, the old and frail. Do not avoid challenging patients with mental illness, pain management needs, addiction histories, or complex medical histories. Yes, the road is bumpier, but it’s far more rewarding.
What is a family doctor? This is my personal view, not an official definition. I treat my patients like family. I put myself in their shoes and think about what I would do for them if I were the patient. Yes, if I don’t have appointments, I double-book and work harder to see everyone. Sometimes I take shorter lunches, and yes, sometimes I sacrifice my time for my patients. I remember during COVID-19, I was on the front lines for two years with no vacation, no time off.
The most important thing for a patient when they call their doctor is to be seen. We are inpatient—we want to be seen today, maybe tomorrow, not in six weeks. It’s not about whether you’re an MD, DO, PA, or NP. The most important thing is who is there, available to take care of me. I always try to take only two weeks of vacation because I know how difficult it can be for a practice to stay without a doctor for too long.
Now, I have six weeks of FMLA, but guess what? I’ll be back on Monday after three weeks because my family (patients) need me. They really need me, especially with the flu season, RSV, and COVID. I may walk slower than usual, like a true pain-in-the-butt doctor, but I WILL BE THERE.
Sometimes, I need to educate other doctors about what a family doctor is. They call us GPs while they are specialists. It raises my blood pressure immediately. I am an expert in family medicine with two specialties and 30 years of experience. I am the quarterback of the team, the captain who helps patients navigate the complex world of health care in 2025. I select the team—cardiologists, surgeons, pulmonologists, oncologists, etc. I handle prior authorizations and help patients navigate the costs of health care. Sometimes, they need to cut specialists because they can’t afford them, or it’s impossible to get an appointment with a psychiatrist.
I had a patient last month who told me my nickname had changed from “Tennis Champion” to “Rocky” because I am “like a rock, stable.” He told me that in 25 years, he had changed five cardiologists, two endocrinologists, and four psychiatrists. Everyone left for better offers. He said, “You know me better than even my mom.” I earned his respect and trust.
I’ve talked in the past about the importance of great education and knowledge, and I believe our medical schools and residency programs are outstanding in this aspect. A family doctor needs to incorporate professionalism, compassion, and respect for coworkers who are part of our working family. We spend more time with them than our spouses. It requires sacrifice, tolerance, and adaptability to new requirements from insurance companies, administrators, and increasingly demanding patients. And sometimes, I forget my forte: JOY in practicing medicine.
No matter what life throws at us, we need to keep our spirits high, smiling, and listening to our patients. It’s so important. I tell my patients jokes, stories, and educate them about their treatments. I remember my favorite little patient, Tim, who was sick as a dog and coughing like a donkey. He had the flu four days ago and still had a sore throat. He was three years old. My friend told me he had never seen anything like it and suggested taking him to see the “SpongeBob Doctor” (I had previously told stories about SpongeBob and played with the kids, gave them stickers, and shared tricks. My son, Andrew, was the same age and I was an encyclopedia of cartoons, lol).
Tim got dressed by himself, ran to the car, and was happy to see his favorite doctor. When I saw him, I told him I saw Patrick in his throat and that I needed to save him. I took a swab for strep, examined him, looked for SpongeBob in his ears, listened to him, etc. Then I went to the pharmacy in the back of the clinic to get strawberry-flavored Tylenol. I told Tim, “You need to watch SpongeBob three times a day, take a teaspoon of magic potion, and feed Patrick. Also, listen to Dad and Mom.” He left the office smiling, telling his mom that he needed to help SpongeBob get better by giving him the magic potion and tea, plus food.
Last week, I saw Tim again. He’s in his second year of medical school now.
My patients are my family, and we are together on this long journey. I am proud to call myself their family doctor. “My nickname is ‘Doc’—very short, but it carries a lot of weight.”
Dan Muntean graduated from a top university in Romania and completed a general and preventive medicine residency in Timișoara. He then worked for two years at the UCLA Research Center, specializing in diabetes. Following this, he completed his family medicine training in Saginaw, MI. Since 2005, he has been dedicated to primary care in Surfside Beach, SC. Dr. Muntean specializes in primary care and geriatrics, areas he is deeply passionate about. He also serves as an assistant professor of geriatrics at Campbell University. His career has been devoted to helping patients improve their health, and he finds great fulfillment in the relationships he builds through his expertise and experience.
