Thursday 23rd January, 2014
Kevin has been my doctor for over ten years now. When I first met him I had the flu. The real one, not a virus masquerading up the germ hierarchy ladder. This was the bonafide flu, complete with fainting, sweating and basically preparing to die.
Anyway, I stumbled into the clinic where he worked, hoping that they still bulk billed the medical fees and collapsed in his chair trying to stay conscious. Awesome. So far so good. Except when my vision cleared there was this extremely handsome, young (really, he could have been 17 he looked that young) Asian boy who talked a thousand miles an hour. When did high school kids start sitting their medical exams?
One of the things I liked right away was that Doctor Kevin explained everything that was going on in minute detail to me, albeit, very very quickly. I did have to ask him to repeat what he said a few times, not because he wasn’t fluent in English, but because an army of germs had camped out in my brain, and I could barely comprehend what was going on, let alone keep up with what he was saying.
Somehow Kevin understood my fevered rambling answers and gently rescued me with a shot of antibiotics and a script for half the store room contents of my local chemist. I lived and that was the first time Kevin saved my life.
Over the years Kevin became our family doctor, sorting, and treating through a myriad of infections, sore backs, broken bones, sick glands, un-discovered diseases, rashes, and the inevitable girl and boy stuff. As he has started to look a little older and his speech has slowed down, his wisdom and skill with doctoring has grown significantly. The result is that we trust Kevin implicitly and have faith that he will work hard and fight for our health and wellbeing.
Today I had to go in to see him about some annual tests. We had a bit of a giggle about all the free tests I was now eligible for given my age, and elevated risk factor status. Apparently as you get older there’s a higher chance of you dying…um…really?
Anyhoo, we talked about my sons as he printed off the freebie referrals, and booked in my next blood tests, (ah, don’t we all love a good blood test session with a vampire) and then he started to wrap the consultation up.
But I was on another mission.
“Actually Kevin, there’s one more thing.”
“”Oh, really I’m sorry…” He turned back to look at the computer screen to check that he hadn’t missed anything.
“No, you haven’t forgotten anything. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Oh.” Kevin looked at me in shock. I realised then that perhaps Kevin doesn’t get thanked very often.
“Thank you so much for everything you have done for me and for my family. I know this is your job, but you are an amazing doctor and you have literally saved our lives on numerous occasions, and I just really wanted to say thank you.”
Doctor Kevin looked down at the floor and then looked up at me with an odd look on his face.
“It’s okay. It’s a pleasure.” Then he smiled.
I walked out feeling as if I had been thanked.
I have been thanking people a lot this week. I noticed that there are quite a few beautiful people in my life who support and care for me. So as part of the DBM mission, I added “thanking where possible” to my daily “to do” list. It’s not rocket science to genuinely thank the people in our lives who go out of their way to care for us. It is simple.
And you may be surprised at the bubbles of joy that endlessly pop inside you when you thank someone.
“Try a little harder to be a little better.”
― Gordon B. Hinckley