In the past three years or so, I've "retired" five or so doctors. I made the statement that I need younger doctors. There is much truth to that statement as the doctors that retired in my life were mostly my age which, when I calculate these days, ain't young.
Of course, the doctor for whom I cried the most, literally, was my much loved 30+ year family doctor. She told me I was her longest patient as I was the first that still remained after she moved here way back in the dark ages. She was one of those who always had time to listen, she cared about everything that affected me and then some, and her knowledge and methods were unconventional and successful. I am blessed to still talk to her fairly regularly as I was happy to receive her cell number when she offered. She will call or text to say "how's it going, just thinking of you" and if the response is a "not as good as I want", she will call and say "tell me about it". She is the doctor who STILL cautions me of the terrible affects that stress has on my body and still can remind me that "they (the ones in charge) almost let me die back in 2017 before my first major adhesion surgery. She also tells me to please be paranoid about that aspect of my health as it can go bad really fast and she likes me. Yes, a very good doctor, one of the best. She has also always been one of The Girl's "team" since her diabetes diagnosis (see yesterday's post). In fact this much loved doctor was the one who, on that very bad day of June 21, 1991, did the pricking of The Girl's finger to test the sugar as I had taken The Girl to that particular office. She is also the wise one who looked me straight in the eye as if to say, "Don't fall apart on me here." Out loud she said to me, "I will stay here and talk to The Girl while you go in my office and regroup yourself as you need to take her to the children's hospital." I slowly, zombie-like did what she said and we made it that week as we learned what we needed to know to live thirty-three years and beyond with Type I Juvenile Diabetes. Yes, a very good doctor.
So with that said, there was irony in the timing of word send to the girl a couple of days ago that her beloved endocrinologist is retiring. This news brought The Girl to tears--and it takes a lot to do that. She's pretty strong most days. The Endocrinologist has been her doctor for 25 of the 33 years of diabetes. The Girl began with the pediatric endocrinologists at that children's hospital but when she graduated high school, we had to change to an adult version. Now you might think that this was not a problem to change. Not so. The Girl is so loyal to those doctors who help her in her every day life. I researched and found The Endocrinologist and went with her to her first appointment. He had the reputation of being one of the very best in the big city. It was NOT a good day. The Girl did NOT care for him at all. It was not a fun appointment but I as a mama had determined he was the one she needed so I made her next appointment at the designated three month mark. You see, back in this day, one saw The Endocrinologist four times a year. The second visit rolled around and it was still not good. The Girl was having trouble adjusting to a different personality and he, in turn, didn't know her well. I remember at this appointment as he stood by the examining table and they were not communicating, saying,"Okay, Girl and Doctor....listen. Girl, I want you to have the best endocrinologist around and I have heard that this doctor is it. Doctor, this girl knows diabetes and tries hard. I want her to have the best and that's you so you need to listen to her. The both of you MUST form a good relationship for this to work and I intend for it to work." Somehow from that moment on, it worked.
The relationship not only worked but they became great friends. He advised well. He listened well. He cared well...and not only about the diabetes but about all that affected The Girl. More importantly, she KNEW he cared. He was present and always available during the high risk of the pregnancy and they would talk at length on the phone after hours about the pregnancy and how to keep on track. When she was induced, he was the doctor who spent a couple of hours at 2 a.m. just going over specifics with her and the nursing staff. They thought he was a rock star of a doctor. And he was. During postpartum issues, he would call randomly in the middle of the day just to check on The Girl. He didn't have a staff member do that, he did it because he wanted to know how she was doing. There just ain't many like him these days.
So yes, I actually cried too at the news of his retirement even when The Girl said, "He has to be YOUR age, Mama." Duh. The Girl also spoke truth when she said she cried when she had to begin going to him and now she was crying because she can't go to him anymore. Isn't that how life is? Such a myriad of opposites are we humans! I do plan to express my written appreciation to The Endocrinologist for his care of my girl. He is a treasure.
As I pondered The Endocrinologist's practice and what he and it has meant to my family, I actually realized something. He is a bit of akin to my relationship with Jesus. Jesus and I are great friends. Jesus advises me well. Jesus listens well. Jesus cares well and I will say that Jesus LOVES well. He's there in the hard times when there is fear. Jesus is always present and available. Jesus could be said to even be a rock star of a Heavenly Father...so so good at what He does. Jesus is a treasure. The difference is that Jesus will never retire and will always be around and with me and those I love as He will with you if you are HIS child.
While the search for a new medical team leader might not be so easy, I am assured the Lord will provide the right one for The Girl. After all, Jesus is The Great Physician, knows his colleagues well, and will guide and provide. And that gives confidence to The Girl and to me.
Consider....