Emmanuel Levinas. The face

The Moment You Become a Person: Why a Gynecological Consultation Can't Be Just Technical

There's a moment in every consultation that changes everything. It's not when I review your medical history, nor when I interpret the tests, nor even when I arrive at a diagnosis. It's a more subtle moment, almost imperceptible, but absolutely decisive: the moment our eyes meet.

In that instant, you cease to be a medical record and become a person. And I cease to be simply a professional and become someone who has a responsibility to you that goes far beyond what any protocol dictates.

The Gaze That Changes Everything

The philosopher Emmanuel Levinas wrote something that has forever changed my understanding of medicine: "Access to the face is, from the outset, ethical." What this means is that when I truly see another person—not just look at them, but see them—a responsibility toward them automatically arises within me.

In our consultations, this translates into something very concrete: the moment I see your concern, your vulnerability, your need to be heard and understood. In that moment, my responsibility to you becomes infinite. Not because it's a professional obligation (which it also is), but because it's deeply human.

Beyond Medical Protocol

Of course I will follow all the protocols. Of course I will apply the best scientific evidence available. But if I stop there, if I only treat your symptom or your diagnosis, I will be failing in the most important thing: recognizing that behind each consultation is a unique, unrepeatable person, who is entrusting me with something more than their body.

Levinas spoke of the "face of the Other" as a window to infinity, something that can never be fully understood or mastered. Every woman who comes into my office brings a story, fears, and hopes that are uniquely hers. My job is not only to resolve the medical problem, but to accompany you in this experience that is yours and no one else's.

The Responsibility of Being Present

This philosophy has taught me something fundamental: to be truly present. It's not enough to be physically present in the office; you must be emotionally available, ethically committed to your overall well-being.

When you ask me, "Is what's happening to me normal?" you're not just asking for medical information. You're asking if your experience, your concern, your fear are valid. And my answer must encompass both the technical and the human aspects.

The Art of Supporting Without Being Exhausted

One of the most beautiful things I've discovered while studying philosophy is that this deep commitment to each patient doesn't have to exhaust me. There is a crucial difference between empathy (which can wear us down) and compassion (which nourishes us).

Empathy would make me feel your pain as my own. Compassion allows me to acknowledge your suffering, to accompany you through it, while maintaining the mental clarity necessary to help you in the best way possible. It's like being a beacon in the storm: I remain firm and bright to guide you, without being swept away by the waves.

Why does this matter to you?

What does all this mean for your experience as a patient? It means that when you come to see me, you're not just coming for a technical second opinion. You're coming looking for someone who truly understands what's happening to you, who understands not only your symptom but also your experience of living with that symptom.

It means that my commitment to you doesn't end when you leave the office. Your well-being becomes part of my ethical responsibility, and that includes being available when you need me, providing the follow-up care you deserve, and always treating you as the unique person you are.

The Medicine We Choose to Practice

In a world where medicine is becoming increasingly technical and depersonalized, choosing this way of practicing is a conscious decision. It means choosing to see in each patient not a clinical case, but a face that challenges me, that demands not only technical competence but also human presence.

Levinas said that "being me is always having an additional responsibility." In my practice, this translates into always being willing to go beyond what is strictly necessary, because I recognize in you someone who deserves not only to be healed, but also to be accompanied, listened to, and cared for holistically

The True Encounter

Ultimately, each consultation is an encounter between two people. One who needs help and the other who has chosen to dedicate their life to providing it. But for this encounter to be truly healing, it needs to go beyond medical technique and reach that dimension where we mutually recognize our humanity.

It is in this space that true medicine occurs: not only the kind that heals the body, but the kind that honors the whole person who inhabits that body.

Because in the end, I don't treat illnesses. I accompany people.

This approach to medicine is deeply influenced by the ethical philosophy of Emmanuel Levinas and his formation at Stanford's Center for Compassion and Altruism Research and Education. If this is how I understand medical care, it means we've probably found the right way to work together.

Are you interested in going deeper? If you would like to know in detail the philosophical and scientific foundation behind this medical approach, I have developed a comprehensive academic work on the connection between Levinas's ethics and compassion training applied to medicine. Write to me and I will send it to you.

Bibliography

Levinas, Emmanuel. Ethics and Infinity. Madrid: The Raft of the Medusa, 2015.

Levinas, Emmanuel. Totality and Infinity. Salamanca: Sígueme, 2016.