It's Always an E

Jeffrey Caso

14 years ago

One of my most important roles in life right now is lending a helping hand to my 87-year-old father. He is a physician who practiced until almost 80 years old and still takes care of the family including my three children. In his long career he delivered more than 3,000 babies and then took care of the majority of them through adulthood. He says that he arrives at a diagnosis while watching the patient walk into the room and seldom relies upon diagnostic tests.

He is old-school and super-effective. Patients of mine who were also patients of his still ask me if they can speak to him regarding a health or personal crisis. He does so graciously, offering words of advice but mostly just giving them moral support in their time of need. Mostly, that is all they are looking for.

Recently, there has been a decided change in him. He seems to be at peace and accepting of the inevitable. I think he feels that this is necessary and helpful for the family's sake. Allowing us to feel accepting of what is to come as well. Hopefully, not too soon. With this change, he has elected to stop driving and is quicker to ask for help. This makes my life easier. He just asks and I am happy to help.

So, last week he asked me to take him to an eye doctor's appointment. No problem at all. Sitting in the examination room with him, the doctor begins to test his eyesight. He puts up a line of the eye chart and asks my father to read it. He says that he cannot. The doctor then puts up a larger line. My father once again says he cannot read it. The doctor being a bit impatient says how about we start at the top then. My father looks at it and says "E". The doctor is called from the room and my father looks at me and says, "Do you know how I knew it was an E?" I looked at him suspiciously and said, "How?" He let out a big smile and said, "It's always an E. Now let's get out of here."

We were laughing pretty hard when the doctor came back in and was wondering what was going on. We didn't tell him and let him finish the exam and then laughed all the way home.

The problem was that the doctor did not spend a few minutes to get to know his patient. Make it a point to have a meaningful conversation with each and every patient. Stop what you're doing and listen to what they are saying. Ask questions to show that you are interested. It makes the patient feel better and more at ease. It makes them open up to you and tell you more about their own situation. That may help you treat them better. By having a meaningful conversation with each patient, you may find work is more interesting and it may make you more fulfilled. It's good for everyone.