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BLOG: Patty Hosch: An unsung mentor
Ophthalmology in the 1990s was such an exciting place to grow up. And it was within ophthalmology that I met Patty Hosch, who for most of her ophthalmic career worked at Alcon Laboratories.
Patty is retiring from ophthalmology this month.
In 1995, as a young staffer who worked on special projects for Ocular Surgery News, I was every manager’s nightmare: an unskilled, big mouth, wildly ambitious 24-year-old. This was balanced out, fortunately, so that I remained gainfully employed, by hard work, loyalty and willingness to work long hours and travel long distances regularly.
In those undisciplined early years, I at least had the foresight to seek a mentor to guide me. Being a young woman with all male bosses, in ophthalmology with mostly male KOLs, in an industry that had most of the seats at the board table filled with men, I learned that it would be necessary to cobble together a group of strong mentors and role models (both male and female) with skills and attributes to emulate.
Also, I was under the impression that to be respected and listened to (and promoted — I was just a tad ambitious), I would have to be the first to speak, the loudest and the most forceful. And the professional persona (not the real me) I created for myself had this impression front and center.
Patty was poised, smart and disciplined, knew ophthalmology (all of it — the KOLs, the procedures, the future) and was the foil to my largely annoying brass professional persona.
It was my very first meeting with her at Alcon headquarters that started my 20+ year adoration for Patty.
During a particularly heated debate about fluoroquinolone education, she was silent for a long time and then when she spoke she did so with a quiet, intelligent force that made everyone look up and out from their own view and really listen to her.
Wait, what?
Epiphany. I realized that I didn’t have to be like everyone else at the board table. I realized I didn’t have to be the loudest or the first. I just had to bring a unique value to the meeting. I could just be me even if it meant that on that day I was still 24 and learning the ropes and maybe only could bring a new view to the table.
Patty taught me other lessons along the way. In fact, she had this lovely way of saying “try harder” without overtly saying it. And it most definitely made me try harder for her, for me, for OSN and in life.
She was wicked funny and taught me that it was OK for a woman to let down her guard sometimes and enjoy life and laughter with colleagues. She was interesting. She had great adventures and was a generous and engaging storyteller.
And she was always on the ball. I famously once hit reply all on an email that included her and Charles Kelman on a reply that was meant for my boss. She responded to me in about 3 seconds to point out my error in her gentle but focused way. So, right there, I learned in the early days of email the power and peril of the tool and how to harness it and more simply how to try every day, hour, minute not to screw up.
Despite being a student of this amazing person, I never quite mastered her skills of being the right amount of lovely and reserve in the fast-paced world of ophthalmology. But by knowing her, my edges were smoothed.
In life, there are many lost opportunities to publicly thank a person for her influence on one’s life. Patty is such a special person to me and ophthalmology, I wanted to grab this chance. Best of luck, Patty. You’ll always be in my heart. Hugs. – by Joan-Marie Stiglich, ELS
Disclosure: Stiglich is the Chief Content Officer of SLACK Incorporated, the publisher of Ocular Surgery News.