Once upon a time in a land filled with stethoscopes, white coats and a myriad of ailments, there existed a tribe known as “Doctors.” These brave individuals embarked on a journey every day, armed with prescription pads and an insatiable appetite for patients needing both physical and emotional caring.
In the realm of medicine, change is constant, and language often takes on a life of its own. I remember a story of one doctor who attempted to explain the concept of “inflammation” to a patient, only to have them nod and calmly ask, “So Doc, what you’re saying is … I’m on fire?”
And then there are the infamous cases of constantly changing EMRs. Doctors everywhere can relate to the frustration of the ever-changing electronic medical record systems. As one doctor put it, it’s like all the instruction manuals have a direct line to the Bermuda Triangle.
But the journey of a doctor is not merely one of acquiring knowledge and skills; it is a lifelong commitment to service and sacrifice. From the grueling years of medical school to the demanding hours spent in hospitals, clinics and medical offices, doctors undergo rigorous training to equip themselves with the expertise needed to confront the daily challenges of healthcare. Yet, despite the immense pressure and responsibility they bear, most doctors approach their work with unwavering determination and compassion.
Speaking from the personal experiences of both Carol and myself (especially this past year), we’ve met with physicians from almost every South Florida hospital system and specialty. And we have found, with rare exceptions, it is their humanity that truly sets them apart. They have not only treated and healed, but served as empathetic listeners and sources of comfort when we’ve needed them the most. But it is important that we all never forget these people are human beings first, not magicians or robots, who deserve our respect, civility and patience.
So, here’s to the doctors not just on National Doctors Day (March 30), but every day. May your stethoscopes never dangle, your handwriting remain somewhat legible, and your sense of humanity never desert.
