The role I play in saving lives
Actor a fake patient for future docs
Todd Licea, 50, is a professional actor from Manhattan whose career began in 1996 with a guest role on the popular children’s TV show “Bill Nye the Science Guy.” He has also done movies, regional theater and voiceovers for video games such as “Halo.” Here he tells The Post’s Dean Balsamini about one of his most interesting recurring roles.
I’VE had colon cancer, tuberculosis, acute asthma, dementia, mesothelioma, HIV — and I survived them all. I never even suffered symptoms. I’m a fake patient, a professional actor who has played an “SP” — industry jargon for “standardized patient” — more than 500 times in 21 years. I cry on demand when diagnosed with a fatal disease and let wet-behind-the-ears medical students poke, prod and probe me. (Although I have my limits; I take a pass on rectal and testicular exams.) I do it for $25 to $30 an hour — and to help people improve their medical educations. Medical schools and hospitals pay actors like me to play SPs because our portrayals teach future doctors how to conduct checkups, diagnose disease and build a bedside manner.
Although the students know they are diagnosing actors, they take it seriously — they’re being observed and graded.
Currently, I’m collaborating with Dr. Ellen C. Meltzer, an internist and medical ethicist at New York Hospital Cornell. She helps facilitate the most difficult conversations in the hospital — such as whether to take a loved one off life support. We teach doctors how to better communicate with dying patients’ family members.
In these cases, I am not the patient, but a son whose parent has metastatic cancer that has spread to the brain, incapacitating my mom or dad and leaving me to make decisions. The doctors must relay the diagnosis, dismal prognosis and then discuss the treatment options, including whether to forego treatment altogether.
In one 10-minute encounter, I have to go from rage to guilt to fear and, if the doctor gets it right and responds empathetically, perhaps even to acceptance. Actors use many tools to get inside a character. For me it’s all about the magic “if ” — how would I respond if my actual father had terminal cancer and dementia? What type of emotional support would I need from this doctor in order to not fall apart?
I’ve also played a resident doctor, handing off my notes and pager to the next resident on call after my shift ends. My character suffers from depression and has a drinking problem — occasionally drinking before work and putting patients in grave danger. In the encounter, it is hoped that the interns notice my lethargy and ask questions that will lead to action.
I take my role seriously and I expect med students to do the same.
I had a student at an uptown medical school who came to our encounter without a stethoscope. He pulled out his earbuds and said, “Let’s just pretend we’re listening to your heart sounds.”
I was offended. Afterwards, I said, “You know, I’m an actor. That’s like me showing up and not knowing my lines.”
There were students who broke down and cried because they couldn’t deal with the moment.
As an SP, I have to let them fail, so they can learn from the experience. In the end, it becomes how do I give them constructive criticism without devastating them?
Some students make me wonder if they will ever make it in the medical field. But most fill me with optimism.
I once ran into a student who “treated” me two years before.
“You were a huge help,” she said. “You told me something two years ago that I still use.” “What?” I asked. “It was the way I stood in the room — all closed up. You told me: ‘This is your house and I’m the guest. I’m the one in the robe on the paper. You have to make me feel comfortable.’”
The bottom line on being a pretend patient? It’s pretty good money and it beats my bartending gigs. But with this, I feel like I’m giving something back.
I let . . . medicalm students poke, prod & probe.. — Todd Licea