Finding a new Doctor
26 years ago this September I moved to Edmonton. 2 weeks into my new life here, I found myself scared, sick and doctorless in a big city emergency room losing my baby. What a bizarre start to a new life. As luck would have it and serendipity would direct it, there was a young family next door and they introduced me to their new doctor. He was young, our age, just opening his family practise. Chinese, soft spoken and gentle and I immediately took to his compassionate and careful ways of caring for us. 11 months later, and a son comes into our lives, this time successfully and my dear Doctor is there to welcome him. Time passes, another child comes healthily into the world and our family is complete. Two lovely daughters, one happy, healthy son and we are on our way. Life progresses, children grow and through it all there is this amazing health care provider. Ear infections, childhood illnesses, even the list of broken bones and stitches our youngest afflicted herself with and always his constant, calming care.
Very recently a letter arrives. This wonderful man has suffered a great loss. His wife is ill; terminal, and he has chosen, rightly, to close his practise and care for her exclusively. Tragic for both of them, and for their children, their family, but strangely enough unbelievably tragic for his patients as well. I have only compassion for his situation, of course, but I had no idea how badly his absence would affect me and my kids. 25 years with the same care and suddenly it is gone.
I embark on a quest to find a replacement. In a city that has seen unprecedented growth in the last ten years this proves to be an immense challenge. There simply are no doctors taking new patients, but I found one. Close to home, accepting new patients, marvelous I thought! 45 minutes of waiting in a very small treatment room and he comes in. I try to introduce myself and he holds up an imperious hand and informs me that he is ‘a very busy man. What are my issues?’ I stumble out with, “My doctor has had to close his practise and I am seeking a new family physician.” He stops me mid-sentence and tells me he knows this as he has had to take many patients from that practise and again tells me what a busy man he is. I’m not sure what to do at this point and I stare at him for a moment trying to collect my thoughts. He barks out, “What are your medical issues?” and stares me down. Somehow I squeak out the reasons I think I need a physicians care, and although I have a couple of ongoing issues that are controlled with medication I am basically healthy. He looks at me incredulously and says, “I am a very busy man, I prefer patients who only come in here with one problem, or just phone in to have their prescriptions refilled. I don’t have time for patient care!” Somehow, I found my voice and asked him, ”Why are you taking new patients if you don’t have the room for them in your practise?” He evades this question altogether and tells me most of his patients are young, and from down east! I obviously miss the relevance of this remark and am waiting for an answer to the question. It never comes. He looks at me one last time, (to this point he still has not come any where near me or said my name ) and orders me to fill out the forms necessary to move my records to his office! I am in shock by this point and truly don’t know what to say in retort. He leaves the room and I am sitting there wondering what the hell just happened! As I leave the office, I ask the harried receptionist to shred my files and tell her that I won’t be moving my charts or myself and under her breath I hear her say, “I don’t blame you.” Holy shit.
This leaves me with medi-centre style care. Committed care facilities no doubt, but completely impersonal. No continuity, no common ground or history, no connections from one family member to the others. Unbearably long wait times, no appointments available and unlikely to meet with the same doctor more than once. Finding the courage to discuss personal health issues with a complete stranger who really has ten minutes to give you and no more is daunting to say the least. If you suffer from ongoing health issues or heaven forbid mental illness of any kind you are forced to blurt out things you barely face with a trusted confidant. I don’t doubt their capacity to care, their ethics or their training, but it takes time to build the relationship of trust necessary to seek help. How do you do that in ten minute intervals with a doctor that can’t even sit down to talk with you?
So, here I am furiously seeking alternatives. I have no idea where to go from here, but have no choice as the option of no family physician is just not viable for me.
Don’t we live in very strange times?