March 1, 2006 at 6:40 PM (Doctors)

I had my first appointment with my newest physician today, a change necessitated by my current health coverage. I’ll like her…she accepted my complex medical history and offered pragmatic suggestions…

Made me think of other docs…both good and less than good.

In 1975 at thirteen years old. I had my third surgery on my right leg. My father had a business associate who became my orthopedist. The surgery was a sucess, but the anesthetic made me abominably sick…The following morning the successful surgeon breezed into my room (no doubt after a quick round of golf), full of infuriating good humor and addressed me in the second person:

“Well, and how are *we* today?”
“I don’t know how *you* are, but *I* feel like sh!t!”

And the other Sensitivity award winner, the guy that told me the only reason I could tolerate being disabled as well as I did was because since I’d been born disabled I didn’t know what I was missing….

Then there was the five foot one tiny dynamo of a woman who worked all over the country fighting for her dying patients…She was a fierce advocate, extremely learned and utterly fearless at work. (She once dashed off a professional, medically accurate, letter awash with righteous indignation to the NIH and told them where to get off. )
She was also never afraid to administer a verbal tongue lashing to a patient that didn’t hold up their end of the bargan and follow the (very necessary) rules associated with her particular specialty. She had a knack for knowing when they were physically strong enough to bear such ah, constructive criticism.

The folks at the Well Known Cancer Center that saved my @ss…

An endearing youthful fellow who looked most like Ritchie Cunningham and worked with many poor and indigent patients

Two separate gentlemen here in the Rockies that decided that any and all physical troubles I have stem from being overweight. Their cavalier attitude delayed later medication and treatment that proved quite necessary.

My most recent physician before this one, who worked with me to get me pointed in the right direction, who recognized the weight was a *factor* not a cause in and of itself.

A specialist that had the guts to do what all the others did not…confirm my underlying spastic paraplegia.

Doctors are people. There are good ones and bad ones. Bail on the bad ones asap and keep (and reccommend) the good ones.

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