and realized that the last time I thanked someone I looked like a complete fool. Here I was in a paper gown, crying to a complete stranger yet feeling so thankful. This was my third doctor visit and I finally felt that I had been listened to, attended to. Dr. E sat there and listened to me for twenty minutes. TWENTY MINUTES. That is, like, an hour in a doctor’s world. Maybe two.
She listened to me and was able to do something that the two previous doctors failed to do: fix me. The other doctors had bandaid the problem, not seeing or understanding the discomforts I was feeling. The relief that came over me when Dr. E recommended me to a physical therapist for my hip pain showed. She was taken aback by how thankful I was. I’m not sure if she thought I was being a bit dramatic, or maybe a bit hormonal. But she still smiled widely, took my hand in hers and said, “That’s what I’m here for. Call me if you have any problems.”
And sadly, she retired not too soon after that. I still miss Dr. E. and I only got to visit her a couple of times. The thought of trying to find a doctor who equally cares about her patients and her work as much as she did seems like too much work. Soon we’ll have to register with a local GP and trying to find any reviews on one isn’t easy. So, how do the English pick their doctors? If you know, let me know. My ankle hurts.