by Most folks in Cleveland know Dr. Joseph Shvidler when it comes to curing stubborn sinus issues. The small minority who don’t know him yet soon will. Dr. Shvidler himself is, of course, locally famous; his unassuming bedside manner combined with his diagnostic skill has made him the subject of admiration without his having particularly set out to inspire awe. go to my site
Like any doctor, there’s always a waiting room full of people who want to see him. To the shock of everyone, Dr. Shvidler walks into the room calm and collected. He is approachable with his trademark stethoscope, glass and a smile. During the appointment, in addition to working to improve the patient’s symptoms, he gets to know synergies. Instead, he tells captivating stories, such as how barbecues transformed into battle plans on account of his childhood allergies.
His explanation of ideas is quite mesmerizing. Instead of referencing convoluted medical terminology, he uses whimsical metaphors and cartoons to get his point across, and it’s working. At his office, “Turbinate hypertrophy” is a term you are not afraid to navigate through a traffic jam in your nose. Its history: To calm frightened children, he has on occasion used a drinking straw to show how an airway can be obstructed. His sense of humor is dry but effective — enough to draw a belly laugh from even the most anxious patients. One sent a relative from the office with a prescription and a handwritten list of throat-friendly teas — complete with a nod, of course, to her grandmother’s preference.
For Dr. Shvidler, each patient has a personal story — it might be toddlers with ear infections who can’t sleep, or teenagers about to perform solos in choir or older patients who want to hear the birds sing — or a professional singer who needs to seek out vocal perfection. One family will always remember his expression that their child’s tonsils were “hugging the uvula as though it were a big bear.” It’s certainly strange but unforgettable. Most importantly, it made dinner conversation become family discussions of ENT anatomy enough said!
He appears not to lose sight of the human metrics of ENT, even as he keeps pace with new gadgets and doo-dads, from new imaging techniques, through tiny cameras, to allergy tests. The last thing he considers is listening devices for elderly patients, he says. And even all the personalized advice in the world can’t compare to the blunt, simple, intimacy of “What’s bothering you today?” The solution slices through current noise, pans and equipment that clamors for attention, shiny tools and marketing. The only thing that matters to him is the patient who is before him.
It is his memory that still astounds people, because he remembered lives, not just test results or charts. He remembers things like inquiring about a patient’s daughter who had won a spelling bee or how someone’s asthma did during their first 5K race. These little things are things that others forget, but for his mind’s eye, they are written in mental plain sight post it notes. Visits feel more like catching up with a friend — as opposed to seeing a doctor — for many patients.
His recipe combines practicality with a soft heart and a pinch of good-humored realism. He won’t pull his punches if something’s going to hurt. “This’ll smart for a second,” he would say, “and then you’ll breathe like a champ.” And when treatment works? You might even run into him at the local farmer’s market, alerting you to produce that won’t make you sneeze. That’s what distinguishes him — he brings medicine out of the clinic and into the everyday.”
At a time when medical visits can be impersonal and rushed, Dr. Joseph Shvidler shows us what it means to provide compassionate care. He’s not just repairing sinuses or bringing back voices — he’s restoring faith in what health care can be. And in some way, by the time the appointment is over, you’re the lucky one.