*** This is a sponsored post. All thoughts are my own and I’ve never had chlamydia***
Before I had children I only ever went to the doctor if I was dying or I needed a sexual health check up after a dubious bed partner, but post kidlets is quite another story altogether.
That first year I wore a path between my house and the surgery due to endless rounds of vaccines and various childhood illnesses that were invariably a harmless cold or rash but a first time mum assumes everything is meningitis.
Over the last two years, I’ve found a doctor who I consider to be part of the family. In fact, I said to her the other day that I’ll follow her anywhere she goes and that she and I will grow old together.
She looked a scared for a moment. Perhaps I was looking manic as it was just after the Mirena debacle.
My doctor has a Polish name with one of those funny Ws in it; the ones that are pronounced as a V. I asked her to clarify pronunciation for me because I thought everyone pronounced it wrong.
“It’s a V, but everyone just says W so I don’t mind. Pronounce it however it’s easy for you,” she replied.
I swore to the woman who looks at my cervix biennially, inspects random lumps and bumps in unspeakable places, hugs me when I fear for my mental health and doesn’t bat an eyelash when my kid vomits in her sink that I would always pronounce her name correctly.
It’s the least I can do, right?
She has a way with the children. They look forward to going to her no matter how poorly they feel. A basket of toys lives under her bed and she lets the kids spread them all over the floor, then she sits down with them on the carpet and checks them over while they play. No rush.
One day I was there for me with the kids in tow. Hurricane Holsby was in full effect on the floor with toys strewn everywhere in 5 seconds flat. While the doctor and I were deep in conversation about my ailment, Kiki approached the desk very earnestly with a one legged doll.
The doctor gently took it from her pudgy hands and held her carefully in her own.
“This is serious,” said the Doctor with knitted brows. “Can you go over to the toys and find her leg, and her special doll’s bed and bring them over to me, please?”
Eyes wide with purpose Kiki trotted off to complete her assigned task.
D Man’s interest was piqued and they both came back, one holding a dismembered leg and the other a tiny bed and they shoved everything in her waiting hands.
“I have trained very long and hard to be able to perform a surgery as delicate as this one,” she said pulling a roll of tape out from a drawer. She put her glasses and her game face on and inspected the doll’s leg.
Very carefully she taped the doll’s leg back in place taking them through the procedure the whole time. They were transfixed.
It takes a special intelligence to study to be a good doctor and understand the 22,000 different illnesses but it takes an extra special person to be a great doctor.
There is often not much glamour to being a doctor, It’s not all exotic cases like House. They see a lot of bums, nasty skin infections, and often people who just need a little attention. They need to understand your medical history, not just what you’re presenting on the day.
It’s quite an intimate relationship and when you find a great doctor, you will follow them to the ends of the Earth.
The Royal Australian College of General Practitioners is the body that provides professional development, education, and support while setting industry standards for 90% of Australia’s GPs.
We hear very little about them, or the work they do because they are very much behind the scenes of our medical system, while the GPs are at the forefront.
Next time you see a GP that is awesome, tell them they are great, because dealing with the boils on the bottoms of the general public can be a little thankless, and reminding them they are making a big difference may give you good karma if you have a bum disorder of your own.
Do you have a doctor you love??
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