Andrew Miller: Why we shouldn’t judge the doctor who diagnosed mushroom murders

Diagnoses, like people, are often more complex than they first appear.

In medical school we learn that the trickiest patients are undifferentiated, straight off the street, which is why it takes least a decade to train a good GP.

Leongatha Urgent Care GP, Dr Chris Webster, has been media fodder since testifying in the trial of his erstwhile patient — recently convicted murderer, Erin Patterson.

The doctor has a habit of using what “refined persons” might call “colourful language”.

Ausdoc, a medical insider news source, reported Dr Webster’s apprehension at having to testify in the triple-murder case: “I was just f...ing s...ing myself.”

As someone who has previously been summoned to a murder trial, I can confirm that circling crocodilic barristers certainly can induce some intestinal hurry.

Dr Webster sports a natural mullet, wears Coca-Cola socks, and now he will probably have to answer to AHPRA, the medical regulator, for his media appearances.

“My thoughts were, ‘holy f....ing s..., you f...ing did it, you crazy b...., you poisoned them all’,” he reportedly said to one newspaper.

Was he wise to have said that? No. Should his licence to practice medicine now be imperilled? It might be. There has been a myriad of indignant complaints about his choice of words when describing his brief interaction with the murderous cook.

I am not sure whether to slap him, give him a hug, or both. I always feel that way when confronted with naive colleagues who have come unstuck by publicly sharing their inner trauma monologue.

Doctors must keep confidential matters to themselves — except where required by law, when we must do the opposite. However, no one has yet identified any confidential thing Dr Webster has said in interviews that goes beyond the existing public record.

AHPRA will focus on that, and his use of F-bombs and words like “nutbag”, which seem the least of modern society’s concerns, if television is any guide.

He may have avoided trouble by sounding more like Arthur Conan-Doyle’s Dr Watson — “I was shocked and dismayed to realise that this person, who I directly observed being distant and cold toward the victims, may have intentionally poisoned them all.”

When we judge others — be they murderers or doctors — it’s their actions that matter, far more than any words.

Same meaning.

There is a well-known cognitive bias in diagnosis — tunnel vision — where we become overly focused on details and miss the wider perspective. Dr Webster says he never considered mushroom poisoning before he was alerted by doctors treating the other victims in Dandenong.

We fall into the same trap when we rush to profile a doctor for speaking boganese. Patients need doctors they can relate to. I’ve never met him, but my educated guess is that people from diverse walks of life appreciate it when Dr Webster explains medical issues like a regular person, rather than a textbook.

Let’s remember that he was the first to figure out what happened, and to contact authorities. He treated Ian and Heather Wilkinson — two of the victims. He saw Patterson ignore them as they lay ill and was so alarmed at her lack of urgency in bringing her children for assessment, that he famously told her: “They can be scared and alive — or dead.”

The medical profession has a tradition of academic excellence and rigorous training, but it sometimes harbours a counterproductive broomstick up its whatsit. I trained with some rough square pegs who the patients and staff loved, but the bosses considered them to be lacking refinement.

As Heather Wilkinson was leaving for Dandenong intensive care, she wanted to thank Dr Webster. He knew, as they said goodbye, that she would probably not survive. We should remember that, when critiquing his forthright views on her murderer, so that we understand him better, even if we might have chosen different words, or none.

The doctor who diagnosed murder should stay away from the spotlight to recover awhile.

When we judge others — be they murderers or doctors — it’s their actions that matter, far more than any words.