Archive for February 1st, 2008

As I stated in an earlier post, I was really looking forward to hearing from my doctor regarding some recent tests.  So I didn’t mind at all that he called just as I stepped out of the shower this morning, still as damp as a drowned rat.

At first, I was a little bashful about standing around, completely nekkid while talking to him, but then I recalled that this was my gynaecologist, for pete’s sake.  I mean, he’s not only seen me nekkid about a hundred times (without having bought me dinner and flowers once!), but he’s even cut me open a few times and rearranged my internal organs!  I got over my nervousness about my nakedness, and just tried as best I could to keep from leaving a puddle on the floor…

Oh, were you actually more interested in the outcome of the conversation, rather than the circumstances?  Silly me…

Of course, the cancer test came back without indicating any malignancy, so even though I wasn’t worrying, I can now quit worrying.  ;- )

The Marvelous Dr H and I had a long talk about options, current situations, etc, and it was while I was talking to him that I realized why I adore this man so much.  Well, as much as any woman can adore a man whom she usually only sees in person with her feet in stirrups….

As we talked, Dr H stumbled over all the usual questions.  He stammers when he asks me very personal questions about my relationship with Tony and all that entails.  Rather than asking me bluntly, using medical terminology, he rather dances around the issue and attempts to elicit the information from me via finesse, rather than direct questioning.  He uses words like relations, rather than the more mechanical term intercourse. [In keeping this a family-friendly blog, let me just explain to any children who might be reading this that Intercourse is a small town in Alabama, near Selma….] 

Tony remarked that it seems a bit odd that someone in his position should show that kind of discomfiture with that line of questioning.  It seemed to him that it might be the slightest bit unprofessional, that he should be more forward and inure to it.

That’s it! That’s why I trust the Marvelous Dr H so much.  He’s not inure to it.  His manner always conveys to me that he doesn’t see me as a medical problem, but as a real woman with a medical problem.  He remembers that, by asking me those medically very important questions, he’s actually asking for the most private information a woman protects in her heart, the nature of her private, intimate relationship with her husband, the hopes and dreams for a family, her secret and often socially-silenced pains. 

To Dr H I know I will never be a detached body, a collection of sometimes flawed tissues, or a sheet of test results.  I am a person, a private woman, and a vulnerable soul who looks to him for answers and solutions to intensely difficult personal questions.  In allowing him to question me in this way, I have given him my trust and access to the most private parts of my life. 

The fact that he stammers a bit only goes to show me that he is sensitive to this fact, and that he respects my personhood, sees me as more than an intriguing collection of tumors and other pathologies. 

If that’s not everyone’s idea of professionalism, that’s alright by me, because I think it speaks to his humanity.  And as such, he allows me to see him as a human, as well, and not a cold, impersonal, mechanical doctor.

Now, I don’t know know what faith or beliefs Dr H holds personally. That’s never come up in our conversations, but I do know that the Great Physician has never been cold, calculating, clinical, and impersonal in His dealings with me.

And I like to think that, as evidenced by his sensitive treatment of me, that regardless of where Dr H went to medical school, he probably did his internship under the Great Physician himself.

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