Side
Streets
by
Kimra Traynor Herb
IPS Features

 

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IPS Features Staff

International Press Service

Write:
Kimra@ipsfeatures.com

 






Loving the doctor

 My friend Kristi really loves her doctor. “I LOVE my doctor.” We had all heard it time and time again. Her doctor, it seemed, was of legendary kindness, supremely human, and above all, she gushed, “he really CARES about each and every patient.  And he has like two thousands patients.” She said. 

I was dubious. I’ve been around the block for some time and have had my share of doctors. Some are better than others, none seemed to live up to the hype that Kristi was bestowing upon her doctor. However, when my doctor moved away, and it was time for the yearly check up, Kristi urged me to try her beloved OB/GYN.

There’s nothing fun about these yearly visits. And because my life had been so tragic and disrupted, it had been more than a year since I had been to the doctor. I scheduled an appointment with the adored OB/GYN and expected..... well, I wasn’t sure what I expected. Kristi had put a lot of hype out there and if the doctor came in, grunted in my direction and walked away without a word, I would be crushed. I would be sure that his extra-special care would be reserved for those extra-adorable patients, patients like Kristi who warranted the time to talk about medical problems.

“YOU ARE GOING TO LOVE HIM!” Kristi declared, as I headed off in my car to the appointment.

Of course I was late. The Birmingham morning rush hour caught me in a snarl of waiting and I spent over an hour and a half driving 12 miles from home. My dubious beginning at the doctor’s was compounded when I could not, for the life of me, figure out where to park. Every lot I came upon was “restricted” and so I ended up parking at a lot a good mile from the Women’s Center where I needed to be. Limping the distance in my high heels (I had told myself they would be fine to wear, after all, I was not planning on doing any walking), I arrived at the doctor’s a full half hour late, my feet blistered and in a FULL BLOWN freak out mode because I didn’t have the two dollars (exact change necessary) to escape my remote parking lot.

I bombarded the receptionist with way more of this information than she really cared to hear, along with my frantic explanation concerning my tardiness. “I am not a tardy person!” I urgently explained, “the traffic was not moving! I allowed an hour and fifteen minutes to get here!” She told me that it was fine, and set me to filling out the paperwork.

Before I knew it, I was back in the office getting blood work done by the staff. BLOOD WORK? WHO KNEW? I luckily had not eaten breakfast in my frenzy to get out the door, which worked well, they revealed, for the cholesterol screening. Oh lions and tigers and bears! What had I eaten the night before? Of course as I ran through the list, it was not pretty. Cookies, candy, fried food and wine.... the staples of my diet. I was certain to have horrific numbers.

When I finally got through the exam, I was pleased to note that the doctor was quick and efficient in the examining room, saving all his charms for when I was fully clothed with my dignity (as much as it could be with my blistered feet and frantic state) intact. He was kind, genuinely interested in my problems, and was truly as kind as Kristi had portrayed him to be. I wasn’t fully smitten, yet, however, that is until this week when my lab results were returned me in the mail. Had I received notice that I had won a Pulitzer Prize, I could not have been prouder and happier than the moment I looked at those results. Total cholesterol: 179 (should be less than 200), HDL (good cholesterol) 99 (should be greater than 40), LDL (bad cholesterol) 79, (should be less than 130, Triglycerides: 53 (should be less than 150). At the bottom of the lab results, the BELOVED DOCTOR (as I now forever more will revere him as Kristi does) had handwritten the following words: “Kimra, keep doing whatever you are doing! This is a BEAUTIFUL lipid panel!” 

I immediately called Kristi. “I LOVE YOUR DOCTOR!” I squealed. “He called my lab results BEAUTIFUL!”

“SEE!” She exclaimed. “I TOLD YOU YOU WOULD LOVE HIM!”

“I DO! I DO LOVE HIM!” I felt like I was 12 years old and we were talking about Keith Partridge. “BEAUTIFUL! DID I TELL YOU HE UNDERLINED THE WORD BEAUTIFUL TWO TIMES????!!!!!”

We agreed that indeed this was the most beloved of all doctors and I thanked her profusely for sharing him with me. After all, not everyone is lucky enough to have such a kind and special doctor.