A while ago, I said how 2017 was going to be the year where I streamline the circus that has been my medical care, and eliminate redundancies, and try to pare down how many doctors/specialists I see.
LAST January, I saw my internist and had him arm chair quarterback my endocrinologist, who, at the time, sent me in for a 2 hour glucose tolerance test, even though most people know (I didn't!) that bypassers like me shouldn't have this test done for obvious reasons (a lot of bypassers end up with Reactive Hypoglycemia/Post-Prandial Hypoglycemia). My internist didn't see much to be concerned about, though he did suggest to me that I find an endocrinologist closer to home and one who takes my medical insurance.
Two months ago, my husband and I were at the office where BOTH of our internists work, and we noticed there was an "In Memoriam" type book on the counter with a sign indicating that my internist had passed away. This saddened me greatly, and yet, oddly, it plays into the overall theme of what I verbally articulated 2017 to be, "The Year of Streamlining." Well, may he rest in peace, I was planning on acting on his guidance.
Monday was a regular appointment at the Endo for me, and I was steeling myself mentally to dispense the "It's Not You, It's Me" discussion wherein I let him know I can't financially sustain seeing him anymore.
Right here is a perfect example of a nugget of advice my husband's grandmother used to share, "If you do nothing at all, in 75% of cases, your problems sort themselves out on their own."
I walked into his office where we normally have a discussion before he examines me, and right off the bat, I noticed 2/3 of his books were off the shelves. And then HE gave me the news that he was selling his practice, and would no longer be seeing patients, and would be focusing his time on lecturing and teaching other doctors to do what he does.
I said, "Hey! You can't break up with ME! I was going to break up with YOU!"
The examination went as it normally does; however, I refused to hop on the scale, since this is the last visit. And I blurted out, "Nope. Not this time. I refuse to hop on that metallic bastard! I want my last visit to end on a good note!"
While it would be nice for me, to go to whomever is buying his practice, it's just not feasible for an assortment of reasons--and really, WHAT do I know about this person? So, now I'm actively looking for a new endo, and my search is going Goldilocks style: one that isn't too old, and isn't too young, someone capable of monitoring my thyroid nodules, and someone local-ish, and takes my insurance, and basically gives me 2-3 days of my life back (not to mention, $$$ I won't be spending for a doctor who doesn't take my insurance). Two of my co-workers go to an endo nearby, and speak highly of him, and he meets my criteria, so I need to get the new patient forms, and get things lined up so whatever medical records of mine can get transferred while my current Endo's office is still open and operating.
Even though I was planning on discontinuing, I wanted it to be my decision. And knowing my Endo, he's 85. I fully expected him to keep treating patients until the day he just ran out of steam and passed away, blissfully, at his desk in his office. Instead, there's THIS. And I know something must be going on with him for him to decide to go back to teaching and focus primarily on lecturing. And my hope for him is that whatever he's doing, I hope it brings him as much fulfillment as treating patients has.
It's wild to think he RETURNED to treating patients about 18 years ago, and of that 18 years, I have been seeing him 4x a year for 14 of those 18, so I've been there for the long haul as it were. And it was a good run. And he taught me a shitload about not just the assortment of things I need to stay on top of, but he's also taught me a lot about MYSELF.
I plan on getting a birthday card and sending that off to him, as his day is coming up; and I plan on getting two lovely thank you cards and send them to his secretary and his clinician--both of whom I will miss interacting with them. Great, super sweet, friendly and professional women, both of whom I hope end up on their feet. 18 years is a long time, and this change will break up that little, happy, work place "family."
Nothing lasts forever.
Change can be a good thing for all involved.
It's still sad and a bit of an unexpected shock.
No comments:
Post a Comment