I want to talk about my doctor. His name is Richard. Richard is a doctor who also performs surgeries and is in constant contact with women. Richard is from New York City, the Bronx to be exact. Women issues + doc from the Bronx does not equal an experience you see on TV (well, maybe on House).
I immediately took to Dr. Richard because my sister had used him for her doctor needs in the past and there's something to be said about using your sister's doctor. At my first appointment in April, he was more thorough than any doctor I've ever had. He showed me an ancient (read: 1970s) book that illustrated my surgery over ten pages. He put me at ease with his "No nonsense" approach to cutting people open. "You do it, you go home and rest, you come back the next day. Bam, done" he stated.
I think I loved Richard at first because he reminded me of me. My lack of emotions mirrored Richard's Bronx bedside manner. In the days leading to my surgery people asked me each day, "Are you scared? Are you nervous?" No. I wasn't scared, nervous, upset, none of those things. I was ready to get it over with and focus on the recovery (which, by the way, was horrid - one week of recliner musical chairs and loopy brains.) People couldn't understand why I wasn't a ball of messy emotions the week beforehand. I'm with the mantra of the ants when talking about the bad bugs on "Bug's Life": They come, They eat, They leave. But in my case, I get cut open, I go home, I recover. Period.
The day of surgery, Dr. Richard was alllll business. Even though I'd met with him three times before, he didn't seem to remember me. Drat. But seriously, what made me so special that this doctor from the Bronx should remember me?
After surgery he was already on to his next patient. I didn't see him until the next day at my post-op visit. He asked me, "Ok, when was your surgery?" Really? This guy can't remember that he just cut me open yesterday??? I reminded him patiently that it was 24 hours ago. He said I was recovering perfectly. They come, they eat, they leave, I thought. I left.
I had my mom bring me back in the day after that, when I had issues with the gross drains in my abdomen. "Of course you're going to have problems, you just had surgery two days ago. Quit worrying and sleep sleep sleep." Ok, Dr. Bronx, I will.
Fast forward one week. One week post-op to be exact. Same scenario: Dr. Richard enters the room, asks me when I had my surgery, gives me the once-over and says I'm healing very well, tells me to come back in one week and leaves. They come, they eat, they leave.
The absence of empathy and love should have been expected. I mean, that's why I chose Dr. Richard in the first place. I can't pick and choose when people will be exceptionally nice to me and when they'll stay away (as I typically desire).
If I had to choose doctors all over again I would still choose Dr. Richard. He did what I asked of him. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm not shelling out money for people to coddle me when I'm in recovery. After all, that's what my children are for.
I immediately took to Dr. Richard because my sister had used him for her doctor needs in the past and there's something to be said about using your sister's doctor. At my first appointment in April, he was more thorough than any doctor I've ever had. He showed me an ancient (read: 1970s) book that illustrated my surgery over ten pages. He put me at ease with his "No nonsense" approach to cutting people open. "You do it, you go home and rest, you come back the next day. Bam, done" he stated.
I think I loved Richard at first because he reminded me of me. My lack of emotions mirrored Richard's Bronx bedside manner. In the days leading to my surgery people asked me each day, "Are you scared? Are you nervous?" No. I wasn't scared, nervous, upset, none of those things. I was ready to get it over with and focus on the recovery (which, by the way, was horrid - one week of recliner musical chairs and loopy brains.) People couldn't understand why I wasn't a ball of messy emotions the week beforehand. I'm with the mantra of the ants when talking about the bad bugs on "Bug's Life": They come, They eat, They leave. But in my case, I get cut open, I go home, I recover. Period.
The day of surgery, Dr. Richard was alllll business. Even though I'd met with him three times before, he didn't seem to remember me. Drat. But seriously, what made me so special that this doctor from the Bronx should remember me?
After surgery he was already on to his next patient. I didn't see him until the next day at my post-op visit. He asked me, "Ok, when was your surgery?" Really? This guy can't remember that he just cut me open yesterday??? I reminded him patiently that it was 24 hours ago. He said I was recovering perfectly. They come, they eat, they leave, I thought. I left.
I had my mom bring me back in the day after that, when I had issues with the gross drains in my abdomen. "Of course you're going to have problems, you just had surgery two days ago. Quit worrying and sleep sleep sleep." Ok, Dr. Bronx, I will.
Fast forward one week. One week post-op to be exact. Same scenario: Dr. Richard enters the room, asks me when I had my surgery, gives me the once-over and says I'm healing very well, tells me to come back in one week and leaves. They come, they eat, they leave.
The absence of empathy and love should have been expected. I mean, that's why I chose Dr. Richard in the first place. I can't pick and choose when people will be exceptionally nice to me and when they'll stay away (as I typically desire).
If I had to choose doctors all over again I would still choose Dr. Richard. He did what I asked of him. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm not shelling out money for people to coddle me when I'm in recovery. After all, that's what my children are for.
Cool - a picture to help visualize this "stranger". I had a completely different picture in my head of what he looked like.
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