Friday morning I had my annual physical. I went to my clinic’s Wheaton facility. Large and well-staffed. With many specialties available.
Parking lot was scantly used. Two masked techs greeted me at the door, asked many questions about my travels and relationships, took my temperature and passed me on to my doctor’s space.
Up the elevator and on to the next checkpoint. Again questions, verification of appointment and insurance, then told to sit and wait for the nurse.
Moments later, I was weighed, asked more questions, verified current meds, blood pressure and pulse noted, and then I waited for the doc.
Pleasant discussion of the issues of the day. A calm recitation of my bodily complaints, all assumed caused by aging. We agreed. He passed me for another year. Told me to come back with any questions or symptoms that alarmed me.
I asked if he were lonely and bored. Yes, was the reply. Patients are too frightened to come to the doctor’s office these days. They are on short hours. Short staff. Big building but eerily underpopulated.
A sign of the times. A symbol of change. We pondered what those changes might be.
We left on a friendly note and gratitude for the morning’s sunshine. We parted as friends as we always do. Ours is a long relationship. He monitors the team of 4 specialists delving into my other conditions. All is good. The conductor feels the symphony progresses nicely on swelling notes and chord.
It’s all good.
May 3, 2020
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