Ah, our wonderful doctor… I have not had many occasions to see him since Marty and I were allowed into his magical circle of care. I suppose I could have gone for a visit and debated the relative merit of kale vs. collard greens with him, but even now– after two years since we secured our Awesome GP– I’d prefer not to jeopardize our sacred doctor-patient relationship or waste his Ayurvedic time.
I really love how our doctor is secure enough with himself and his position of authority that he can still stick with the fundamentals of health and not immediately resort to heavy duty prescriptions as though the big pharma companies were paying him by the pill. No matter what, his diagnosis always starts with questions about diet, exercise, sleep, and stress. (And after that, he’ll always ask how my relationship with Marty is. Priceless.) I love how he radiates an aura of respect and openness, and that I don’t need to feel silly about bringing any of my legitimate concerns to him, no matter how small or non-traditional they might be. I love how he doubles as a pseudo-counsellor, usually stating during our appointments that his office is a ‘safe place’ to talk and always reflecting and validating whatever it is I end up saying to him. But most of all, I really love how seriously he takes his prescription pad. Between Marty and I both, we have yet to see any ‘real’ drug written down on the pad, but then again– our health concerns have yet to merit any real pharmaceutical intervention (knock on wood). Even recently, when the stress over Robertina’s health was starting to consume me, I walked out of my doctor’s office with this:
Love it.
And you know what? Just walking into his office and admitting that I needed some support was very cathartic for me, in and of itself. I wasn’t expecting him to prescribe me Xanax or Valium (obviously– I might not have gone in if I had thought otherwise), but what he did ‘prescribe’ me was exactly what I needed. (The ‘2nd arrows’ he refers to comes from the teachings of the Buddha, natch.) I came out of his office remembering that this situation wasn’t the end of the world, and since then, I’ve felt a little more able to roll with these punches. He’s magical, I tell you! MAGICAL! 🙂
zona pellucida 
Holy crap – he sounds amazing! It’s pretty rare to find a doctor who will even listen to you when you talk about diet much less sleep.
Don’t let him go, no matter what.
I know! I’d secretly still keep him as my GP if I moved to the mainland or up island. The ferry ride and loooooong commute would be worth it! 🙂
You are indeed lucky.
I went looking for a new GP years ago and the guy I was ‘interviewing’ had one hand on my chart and the other on the door handle, eager to get to the next patient the whole time (it seemed).
Needless to say, there was no second visit, and I moved out here anyhow.
I really wanted to get into that same clinic as you guys since I live a block away. I learned that their intake was quite limited and then, most recently, it was in danger of closing, owing to funding and/or MD changes-moving. ?
Yes: all true. We had to go through a once-a-year type of line-up lottery to even get an application, and then there were more filters after that. We ended up with sheer gold in a GP, though, so I would do it again if I had to.
There have been tons of cutbacks and changes to the clinic since we joined 2 years ago, but our fabulous doctor is still practicing there. The main change we had to sign off on was shorter appointment blocks. It wasn’t unusual for us to spend 30-45 minutes for every appointment before the cutbacks, but now (like most clinics), the appointments are 10-15 minutes max. It’s all good, though: I’m not complaining! (Besides, now there is less wait time to actually get an appointment booked, because each appointment is shorter).