Dr Taub is the founder of Advanced Dermatology, with two locations in the Chicago suburbs of Lincolnshire and Glencoe, IL. She is an assistant professor of clinical dermatology at Northwestern University Medical School, where she teaches a monthly cosmetic surgery clinic for residents. In addition, she is a senior editor at the Journal of Drugs in Dermatology and is an editorial advisory board member of The Dermatologist.
In 2002, Dr Taub founded the website skinfo.com, which, when launched, was the second skin care store on the internet. She also opened a physical skin care boutique called skinfo® Specialty Skincare Boutique in the same locations as the Advanced Dermatology offices.
Throughout her career, Dr Taub has been recognized as a pioneer and expert in photodynamic therapy, full facial volumetric filler rejuvenation, and laser/energy-based devices. She frequently lectures on the national and international scene and has authored more than 30 original peer-reviewed publications in major journals and 10 book chapters.
Q. What part of your work gives you the most pleasure?
A. Making people better, whether it is a rash that goes away, a filler done masterfully, or a laser treatment that was very effective. The respect I receive from my patients is also fulfilling. After 30 years of practice, a day in my office can feel like greeting a whole day of friends. I also love the “team” feeling of working with my staff and medical assistants. I love going to work!
Q. What is the greatest political danger in the field of dermatology?
A. Private equity and the corporatization of medical care. The single best thing about being a doctor is the interaction with and the caring for the patient. This unique relationship is in total jeopardy by reducing “providers” into widgets and removing their autonomy with too many metrics and electronic medical record boxes to be checked off in charts nobody reviews because there is too much nonessential verbiage in them. The problem is, as in many other things, everything becomes boiled down to money and algorithms. I am not against data when it can help guide our treatment decisions for what is best for the patient, and I look forward to artificial intelligence as something that can assist us and make us better able to choose wisely.
Q. Are an understanding and appreciation of the humanities important in dermatology, and why?
A. Absolutely—we are human! If you know the best therapy in the world for a given problem but you do not know how to explain it so the patient understands it, accepts it, and wants to comply, then that therapy is ineffective. Being eloquent, having empathy, and being relatable all count toward that. If we are only technicians, then computers will soon replace us.
If you have not read extensively about the human condition or viewed a great piece of art or film, then a deep sense of “we are all in this together” will not be there. Your patients can sense that. Science may be ultimate truth, but emotions are the world we humans live in. Reducing them or everything to science will leave us in a Spockian world that would be cold and lifeless.
Q. What is your greatest regret?
A. Getting a late start and not attending a really great undergraduate school. As with many of you, I am sure, I was one of the best students in many of my classes growing up. But I had a huge U-turn in my adolescence and rebelled strongly. I needed a lot of stimulation: understand there was no Internet, there were no clubs, there were literally no sports after school for girls.
I had a lot of energy, so I was editor of the school newspaper in 1968. I literally wrote 38 of 40 mimeographed pages of this newsletter every month. Since my 17-year-old brother was in serious danger of being drafted into the Vietnam War and my parents were very liberal (my dad was talking about moving to Canada if my brother was drafted), I wrote editorials in the paper and poems very much against the war. Parents in the community called the school and complained, and I was fired from being editor. I was bereft! This led to my seeing a young man who was 2 years’ older and very charming but very inappropriate, and from there I became a hippie and went into a counterculture world. I found art and became an artist, attending art school to graduate with bachelor of fine arts (I went to Kansas City Art Institute [KCAI], another huge mistake in my life. I was accepted to Rhode Island School of Design [RISD], considered the “Harvard of art schools,” but I did not like it because they had design in the name. I was a “pure” artist! I always joke I could have been one of the Talking Heads since they were at RISD the years I was at KCAI).
From there I moved to New York City, completed half of a masters of fine arts at Hunter College, and became disenchanted with the artist lifestyle. I could not find a group of people that I wanted to hang with and I started to dislike the lack of structure, the loneliness of being in my studio, and the subjectiveness of art I found in my student colleagues. So, I was off to pre-medicine studies at Columbia University! I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say, my father and brother were doctors and I longed for anything with a right and wrong answer!
After Columbia I was off to Northwestern for medical school, internship, and residency. One of my interviewers at Northwestern very sarcastically said, “oh, you got an A in ceramics, that will take you far.” Dr Ruth Frienkel, one of my attendings at Northwestern dermatology, was the first to point out the similarities between art and dermatology because of the visual recognition of patterns and color. So, I felt I had taken a 9-year detour (ages 13-22) to where I was finally supposed to be. Many people who know this story are enamored with my sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll past (and I do have great stories!).
I used to rue the lost time and the chance of going to Harvard (my dad and brother both completed undergraduate there), but the next best thing is my son went to the University of Pennsylvania. My mom used to tell me I would not be the person I am if I had not done all that (and she truly bore the most brunt of the pain involved!). She is right, of course—it is not just the actual art but the experiences that were very outside of the norm that allowed me to realize that almost anything is possible and there is a huge world outside that is very different than the one we all live. This in embedded in me and makes me able to see things through a different lens.
Q. Who was your hero/mentor and why?
A. This is a regret—I am always jealous when someone has a specific mentor that has shepherded them through the process of their professional life or was able to have a cosmetic fellowship. As I had discussed, I was 34 when I finished residency and the only available fellowships were Mohs and Harvard laser fellowships with Dr Rox Anderson. As much as I loved learning, I was finally ready to get out, make money, and start a life. I really considered Mohs but only saw the choice as being a Mohs surgeon or not, and although I loved surgery, I did not want to do only that. In a life-changing decision, I did not consider the laser fellowship, as my only exposure to lasers was the first pulsed dye laser Dr Jerry Garden had in his private office, which he didn’t share a lot about so I didn’t seek it out.
Dr Garden was one of my attendings in residency at Northwestern and he was my “emotional” mentor. I had a hate-love relationship with Dr Henry Roenigk, my chairman at the time. He was an incredible diagnostician and also teacher, but he was like an Army sergeant. I was used to making relationships with my teachers that were more of a mutual admiration and warmth, and I could not get that from him, even though he respected my intellect. He wanted to push me to my limit, which may have been good but was not the way I shone. It was emotionally tough for me, and Dr Garden helped me through that time. Believe it or not, in my first year, I was the only female resident. My coresidents were so dear to me, especially Drs Mike Gold, Rick Rubenstein, Dave Picascia, and Morgan Magid. They protected me, and we all had a wonderful camaraderie.
Initially, I went to work for Dr David Van Dam, who taught me how to run an efficient practice. I had a lot of respect for his clinical acumen, but eventually I felt that I was a glorified hourly worker and I yearned for something more. I wanted to grow and I had stopped, so I decided to set out on my own. Starting my own practice is the opposite of my greatest regret, it is one of the best choices I have ever made. It opened up a whole universe for me, one in which I could explore, create, invent, and grow. People often think that creativity is whether you can draw “well” (meaning realistically—hey, we have cameras for that!) or write well, but you can use your creativity in many other ways, including in building a practice and approaching dermatology issues/problems/unmet needs of patients, employees, and even the boss!
I was taken by lasers that had changed over time. My first mentor “crushes” were on Drs Bob Weiss and Tina Alster; I loved going to their lectures. Dr Alster did a road tour way back in the 1990s to give carbon dioxide (CO2) laser workshops, one of which I attended. Inspired, I started to learn about lasers on my own by studying, going to meetings, and trying them out. At that time, you could rent them, so I would rent them for a day, partner with an anesthesiologist, and perform CO2 cases (before I left for my own practice). But then there was an episode of 60 Minutes about people who had gotten scarred, and so patient interest dried up. At the time, there were few other options for lasers outside of CO2, no fillers (other than collagen), and no toxins.
Over time I have come to identify most with colleagues whom I feel are independent, creative thinkers3 and whom I deeply respect such as Drs Macrene Alexiades, Mark Taylor, and Gilly Munavelli. Please don’t anybody feel shorted if I didn’t mention you!
But if I have learned anything, it is to trust and follow your own instincts. I truly just lacked the self-esteem to believe I could have important ideas; it has taken a whole lifetime to be able to feel comfortable in my own skin.
