Comfort-Level

There is a certain comfort-level that we have with various people in our lives. Some people we keep at arms length with the attitude of, "That's close enough," in our minds, every time we see them. Other people we may feel compelled to hug even when we saw them just moments before. Then, there are those who provide us a service; pedicurists, hair dressers, dentists etc... who are paid (sometimes quite well) to have close, physical contact with us all the time. Many of these people touch us more than our own family (which is an entirely separate post).

Yesterday, my daughters and I drove nearly forty miles into the city to say good-bye to their pediatrician. This man is simply remarkable and I would have driven 300 miles to tell him so. When I was pregnant with my eldest, I was working for a child advocacy organization in their media department. As I was compiling media clips, I came across an article about a man who was being honored as the humanitarian of the year for the state. This man was a pediatrician who had devoted countless hours to the health and preservation of children, not just under his care, but everywhere. I took a risk and called his office to see if he was taking any new patients. To my delight, he was.

I told the receptionist that I was due to have my first child in a month or two and that I was on the hunt for a new pediatrician. It seems he would want an appointment with me, even before the baby arrived. How novel! I made an appointment then went to seem him a couple of weeks later.

Right away I like him. He was friendly, personable, caring and an active listener. He had also adopted children of different nationalities, so he had a broad sense of caring that other doctors here seemed to lack. He was a wealth of information and I felt very confident in my choice after meeting with him. Very shortly after my eldest was born, we began our well-baby visits with him and have continued with the same doctor ever since. When he discovered I was pregnant again in 2005 (I already knew he wasn't taking any more patients and was thinking about retirement, so I didn't even ask), he asked me, "So, will I be taking care of this one, too?" (pointing to my belly). Hell yeah! I was thrilled!

More than once, he has saved my daughter's life and I will forever be grateful to him. Even now, I'm tearing up just thinking about how dutiful he was, when she entered the hospital at four months old. A couple of years ago, he told me about how his wife was ailing (cancer) and just a few months ago, she was in the hospital and he was visiting her everyday (sometimes between patient visits). During our last visit, my daughter saw an obituary pinned to a cork-board in the office, "Hey, mom. That says Dr. T's wife died." After being shown to our room, we waited for his arrival. I asked him about his wife, as I always did during our visits, she'd passed away and that day was his first day back in the office. We stood there hugging for I don't know how long. I held back my tears as he became a bit emotional. My heart broke for him that day.

Selfishly, I considered the possibility that he might delay his retirement. I wondered if he would reconsider since having the kids to care for may be good recovery. We received the "retirement party" card in the mail last week. Well, at least I know he'll get the rest and time off he truly deserves.

My eldest jumped into his arms last night (no exaggeration). He lifted all 70 pounds of her off the ground. I wanted to cry so bad, but I held back. I hugged him and whispered in his ear how much we'll all miss him. I really, really will. The floodgate has opened now so , I'd better stop typing.