Member since July 2026
Emily Boss, MD, MPH is a pediatric ear, nose, and throat surgeon, communication scientist, and mother of teens. In her surgical practice, she addresses critical functions of children’s health: breathing, sleeping, hearing, and communicating. She has also spent two decades studying how physicians and families talk to each other and make medical decisions.
The Boss Lab has analyzed more than 500 real-time pediatric consultations to understand how trust is built in the exam room and why families of children with the same problem may make very different choices for care. The findings explain why so many mothers walk out feeling unsettled or second-guessing themselves, and what it takes to leave feeling heard, confident, and clear instead. Her research has been federally funded, widely published, and internationally recognized.
Dr. Boss has also spent her career inside the health system leading programs in surgical quality, performance improvement, revenue cycle transformation, and clinical operations across Johns Hopkins Medicine. She knows how the health system works, where it fails families, and what it takes to change it.
As a physician and parent, she sits on both sides of the exam table and understands how overwhelming the system can feel to families trying to make medical decisions for their children.
People at the core of healthcare; making healthcare easy; building trust in healthcare; pulling back the curtain on what happens in a doctors visit; kids health; ENT surgery; my massive 125 lb labradoodle; NYT Sunday crossword; cheese; Pelotons
Early in my career I was consulted for Emmy, a 6-week-old baby in the pediatric intensive care unit. Emmy had a genetic condition requiring a breathing tube and ventilator to support her lungs. The next step was surgery to place a tracheostomy tube in her neck and airway to allow for long-term breathing support. Her parents were overwhelmed, exhausted, terrified, and visibly in conflict as to how to proceed.
Years later, Emmy's family came to see me for a routine tracheostomy follow-up. As I walked into the clinic room, I heard Emmy's mother slap her grandmother's arm, saying "Mom! She's the doctor who told us we would 'own the trach.'" I looked up puzzled. She explained how the conversation we had outside of the ICU all those years ago turned the course for them. Those words "own the trach" inspired them not to fear their daughter's tube but to master it—it helped shift their perspective and empowered them to reframe their role in Emmy's care.
A single conversation helped Emmy's parents navigate an overwhelming decision. Those conversations happen countless times in a day.
I was an art and student government type of kid--tried to rid myself of science early on. My younger sister, now a healthy adult, had leukemia when she was 4 years old. I reflected a lot on what my parents experienced having a child with cancer--how they interacted with us (her sisters), their community, her doctors. How they kept their heads up and stayed grounded. I decided to go into medicine (and still majored in fine arts!).
Now, a practicing pediatric ear nose throat surgeon at Johns Hopkins for two decades, I help children communicate, breathe, sleep, and hear. I talk to mothers, fathers, caregivers in and out, every day, understanding how much individual relationships and trust in medicine affect downstream care for their children.
As a surgeon-scientist, I study these relationships. My NIH-funded lab has audio-recorded and analyzed 500+ real-time patient encounters to learn how parents and physicians talk to each other and make decisions for surgery. We study overuse and appropriate use of healthcare and show how it all points back to that first conversation.
I am also a physician leader working with clinical operations, patient safety, performance improvement, and revenue cycle management. Through this seat I am able to understand and influences how health systems--their technology, workflows, and organizational approach--can make or break the human relationship at the center of care.
Early in my career I was consulted for Emmy, a 6-week-old baby in the pediatric intensive care unit. Emmy had a genetic condition requiring a breathing tube and ventilator to support her lungs. The next step was surgery to place a tracheostomy tube in her neck and airway to allow for long-term breathing support. Her parents were overwhelmed, exhausted, terrified, and visibly in conflict as to how to proceed.
Years later, Emmy's family came to see me for a routine tracheostomy follow-up. As I walked into the clinic room, I heard Emmy's mother slap her grandmother's arm, saying "Mom! She's the doctor who told us we would 'own the trach.'" I looked up puzzled. She explained how the conversation we had outside of the ICU all those years ago turned the course for them. Those words "own the trach" inspired them not to fear their daughter's tube but to master it—it helped shift their perspective and empowered them to reframe their role in Emmy's care.
A single conversation helped Emmy's parents navigate an overwhelming decision. Those conversations happen countless times in a day.
I was an art and student government type of kid--tried to rid myself of science early on. My younger sister, now a healthy adult, had leukemia when she was 4 years old. I reflected a lot on what my parents experienced having a child with cancer--how they interacted with us (her sisters), their community, her doctors. How they kept their heads up and stayed grounded. I decided to go into medicine (and still majored in fine arts!).
Now, a practicing pediatric ear nose throat surgeon at Johns Hopkins for two decades, I help children communicate, breathe, sleep, and hear. I talk to mothers, fathers, caregivers in and out, every day, understanding how much individual relationships and trust in medicine affect downstream care for their children.
As a surgeon-scientist, I study these relationships. My NIH-funded lab has audio-recorded and analyzed 500+ real-time patient encounters to learn how parents and physicians talk to each other and make decisions for surgery. We study overuse and appropriate use of healthcare and show how it all points back to that first conversation.
I am also a physician leader working with clinical operations, patient safety, performance improvement, and revenue cycle management. Through this seat I am able to understand and influences how health systems--their technology, workflows, and organizational approach--can make or break the human relationship at the center of care.