The List
I went to the doctor recently, for my regularly scheduled check-up. I try not to go to the doc for every little ailment, primarily because the doctor’s schedule is always so full it’s difficult to get an appointment. I don’t want to be a bother.
So, I save up my minor maladies. I carry a list to my check-up.
But I got the impression my list was not appreciated. Nobody said so. Everyone was polite. But it seemed like this was not how the staff expected my appointment to unfold. The doc didn’t even listen to my heart or look in my ears or any of that usual stuff. My list probably took too much time.
I am old enough to remember doctors making house calls. Mom would telephone the doc because I had fever and a sore throat, and he would drive over that same afternoon.
Of course, given that my wonderful childhood doctor ran his own private practice, he probably didn’t have access to fancy equipment he might have had as a member of a multidisciplinary clinic. But I generally got well.
When my kids were young, we had a fabulous family doctor. He didn’t make house calls, but he always asked about the entire family when any one of us went in for an exam. He made it a point to find us drug samples rather than write expensive prescriptions, because he knew we weren’t made of money. He ran his own business, took his time with his patients, and everybody loved him.
When I was pregnant (for the last time) and planning a home birth with a midwife, this independent family doc gave me a speech prescribed by the American Medical Association about what could go wrong (the condensed version), then wholeheartedly agreed to be my “on call” physician during the delivery. After my daughter was born, he allowed my husband, baby, and me to sneak in the back door of his clinic – avoiding the sick people in the waiting room – and checked us all out.
But this fabulous family physician ultimately gave up his private practice to work in a big clinic connected with a giant hospital. His time with patients was cut short. He looked harried. And miserable.
When my current doctor was new, he took his time talking and listening. He comforted me when I cried – assuring me that while there is no crying in baseball, it is perfectly fine in the doctor’s office. (This, of course, made me laugh.)
But now, I think he’s in a hurry. So, I get it that my list probably doesn’t sit well. But how many ailments are we allowed to address in one visit? Is it acceptable to have an affliction on a routine check-up?
Immediately following the visit, I got a text telling me to call my “health care team” if I fall or experience other icky health problems “as discussed during my… visit.” But it wasn’t discussed. It was probably on the roster for the doc, but my list kept him from completing his prescribed duties. Or maybe this text gets sent to all elderly patients – to save time, and gaslight us into thinking the doctor actually said these things.
Longing for the old days is counterproductive. But learning from our past is a good thing. And in my past, some doctors were able to take their time perusing the possible roots of our predicaments. If I had any clout, my To-Do list would include finding a way to allow doctors to slow down. It would be way better for everyone.