The Good Doctor

My urologist retired, and in some desperation, I finally got an appointment to see his replacement. I say, finally, because the first appointment had to be cancelled due to a family emergency.

It is taking two people to replace the retiree, and one is a young lady ­­­– a very very young lady who looks to be about the age of my granddaughter. She's a pretty young thing although that is neither here nor there. I tend to wonder why a young female would choose a specialty dealing mostly with old men's bits, but then I remember that our vocations tend to choose us rather than vice versa.

Give her credit: she was more attentive than her predecessor, whom I hasten to add was very qualified and competent. He simply wasn't the best listener, and I used to feel that I might not always have been heard. This was problematic to me because my symptoms seem to be elusive and uncommon. This young doctor patiently allowed me to describe my plight through my halting and frustrated words.

The examination was thorough, and she was able to put her finger right on the problem, so to speak. Her diagnosis, which she explained carefully, seemed credible. Unfortunately, it wasn't what I wanted to hear because I probably can't be helped. At least that was my take.

Having said that, she will try to help and has prescribed medication that could possibly ameliorate my problem. She will also follow in up in a month. Whether I can be helped or not, I am appreciative and relieved that my new doctor is making her best effort.

Next time, I must remember to tell her how much I appreciate both her thoroughness and concern.