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Curmudgeonly Doctors Get a Bad Rap
If you want a doctor who has an excellent bedside manner, don’t go to my doctor. I know two women who are aghast that he’s my doctor, yet I’ve been going to him for about 10 years. And I wouldn’t go to anyone else.
Now I can explain why these women don’t like Dr. G. He’s business-like and rarely makes small talk. He wants to know exactly why you’re visiting him, and if you’re there to make small talk, he’s not usually interested.
He’s just my kind of doctor.
I feel the same way when I go to my workout facility. I do exchange smiles and greetings with people, but my mission is clear: work out and get out. If you want to take more of my time, let’s do lunch. I’m all business.
For people who don’t understand subtle or understated humor, they probably won’t like Dr G, either. I once went in on a scheduled six-month visit because he wanted to see patients before renewing prescriptions, and I had no complaints (ah, the good ol’ days) and he looked at me with consternation and said, “So why are you here anyway!” I retorted, “because you made me!” We both laughed.
That’s Dr. G.
But over the years I became fond of him and appreciated his serious demeanor; his warmth is less obvious to detect, but it’s definitely there. More and more we kid around and he tells personal stories. A year ago with Covid winding down, he split off his practice and became part of a 65+ wellness group with Advent Health; when I consulted him about my chemotherapy, he told me at that time about the change in practice, and I could just feel the stress leave his body. He’s about 70, and I think he was more than ready to take it easier. With the practice split, I had a choice of which to visit and I chose 65+. I now know I made the best choice for me. The last couple of days have been proof.
My recovery from cancer surgery and chemo has had its ups and downs, but on the whole, I’ve been very fortunate and am in good shape. Imagine my alarm, however, when I woke up Saturday morning with more pain running through my body than I’d ever experienced. I nearly had to roll out of bed; my upper body was in agony, and my legs felt like they wouldn’t support me. I managed to get up, take some Extra Strength Tylenol, and started to feel a little better.
But I could feel the pain settling in during the night, ready to strike first thing Sunday morning. And it did. Down more Tylenol with a commitment to call the doctor on Monday.
Sunday night and Monday morning were just as excruciating. I was going to wait to call the doctor’s office until afternoon, since many practices have voice mails that warn patients that we might have to leave our number, or we can contact the doctor on the patient portal, or call later. Imagine my surprise when a staff person picked up on the first ring!
I explained that I was desperate with pain, and hoped I’d be able to get in to see the doctor in the next few days. Another surprise: she worked me in for 1 p.m! I counted the hours, grateful again to get some relief from ES Tylenol. When we entered the office, the staff person greeted me warmly, and even though we were early (I asked Jerry to drive me because I didn’t feel able to pay attention to the road), I was put into an exam room within a couple of minutes. The nurse proceeded to take my vitals and even joined me in teasing Jerry; we girls can’t miss those rare opportunities. They have a chair that is a scale (very cool) which is ideal for a 65+ clientele and a person who can barely stand up from a sitting position. She left shortly, and Dr. G came within moments.
We got right to business: timelines, precisely where my pain was located (upper body in neck, shoulders, jaw, arms, hands, fingers (although the fingers might have been my early symptoms of arthritis—yeah, that, too), hips and upper legs. He asked more questions to clarify; I’d made out a list of information in case I forgot anything and he studied it. When I mentioned some issues with a different kind of pain last summer, he brusquely assured me that wasn’t the same. I was good with that.
Then he told me I probably had PMR — what? — polymyalgia rheumatica. It comes on suddenly without an obvious cause, is worst in the mornings, and there is technically no cure but the treatment is a low dose of prednisone, gradually tapering off over time if I have good results. But I had to have a blood test. Dr. G said he’d put a rush on it (although it turns out the rush wasn’t as rushed as I’d hoped) and if the diagnosis was correct, he’d order the prednisone.
So Jerry and I went over to the hospital lab across the street. They drew blood. We went home. And I waited. Went to bed. Woke up in pain and rolled out of bed.
And Dr. G called at 8 a.m. The diagnosis was correct. He called in the prescription and assured me that I should have relief within 24 hours. I took my first pill at lunch. Time will tell; I’m counting the hours.
Curmudgeonly doctors are the best.
Published in Healthcare
Competent doctors are the best. It’s ok if they’re pleasant. But not required, I suppose.
PS:
If you have PMR, the prednisone will work in 1-2 days. It’s fast.
That’s the difference between doctors who treat symptoms and doctors who treat patients. If all you want is the former, great. I’ll take the latter. To each his own.
I would never rate curmudgeonliness over competence–ever! But I knew he had that in spades to start. So I have the best. Thanks for the feedback on the prednisone. I’m a bit nervous about taking a steroid, even low dose, but I’ll take my chances.
I think he brings what the situation calls for. I asked for his thoughts about my getting a fifth dose of chemo, when at an earlier time four doses were acceptable. Since he knew the oncologist, too, he suggested, kindly and warmly, that I get past the fourth dose and see if I had signs of peripheral neuropathy (which was my biggest concern); if I didn’t, I could consider the fifth. As things turn out, I did have signs of neuropathy after the fourth, and even the oncologist agreed we could stop there.
At one point I was offered a new primary care physician (as I was new to the area), and the young lady with the clipboard said “Well, there’s Dr. Andy, he’s a nice guy, and there’s Dr. Bob, he’s a nice guy,” (or something similar), and I said “I want a mean old man doctor.”
She perked up and chirped, “Oh, you want Dr. Zagernevans!”, and wrote something down. That guy was THE BEST.
I couldn’t have told you then, but now I know why. If I’m speaking to a nice person, I’ll probably be nice. Agreeable. Backseat. I wanted authority to push against, not youth and inexperience to account for and excuse.
Well, maybe that still doesn’t explain it. But it’s what I have.
Your doctor sounds German.
I think he’s originally from the Middle East! His first name is Amir.I’m almost always good with cranky guys because I sense their heart underneath.
I hope it responds to the medication and you’re feeling better soon. You’re due for some good luck.
Your grouchy doctor sounds perfect. I see why you appreciate him. Especially since so many doctors don’t take women seriously enough… my experience based on trying to get answers for wife and daughter conditions. Even female doctors blew us off.
My wife had polymyalgia rheumatica. She took prednisone for a year, and it seems to be gone.
Oh Susan! Don’t you just hate wierd symptons. I have found prednisone to be a miracle drug for whatever ails me (well, duh, I have lupus), but it really can work wonders. Hopefully it is going to work well for you. Don’t be afraid of it. I’ve never liked taking it long term (moon face & weight gain) but short term has relieved many discomforts with no side effects. Good luck.
Maybe that’s another reason I like him. He is always respectful. Thanks, Doug.
That’s so encouraging, Captain French. Thanks for sharing.
Maybe you’ll get an athletic scholarship on a Men’s Team! You’re an adventurous soul. I sincerely hope you start feeling better, we like having you around!
When I go to doctor, I try an be as concise and precise as possible. I have notes, times, temperatures, readings to assist in diagnosis- they have a tough job and I try to give them pertinent information.
That’s a great and responsible àpproach, Wicon! It empowers us!
I don’t particularly need a warm fuzzy from my doctor. However, if I’m about to go under the knife, I don’t mind a kind word.
The cutter that did my hip replacement is a very upbeat, totally confident guy who really put me at ease before I went under. That was important to me.
I guess I relate to medical personnel differently. Or they to me. Once, the P.A. who took over from my longtime dermatologist (himself a very companionable and very skilled guy) came into the exam room singing “Helloooooooo…” Knowing what women like, I sang back, “Hellooooooo…” I am sorry to report that her assistant did not chime in, whereupon we could have done the Three Stooges harmony. Well, women don’t much like that.
That was last year. Last week, there was no singing, but the P.A. spent a long time asking me about my bicycle rides. I was surprised, as a dermatology practice usually involves seeing lots of patients fast. On the other hand, if you like meeting men who have clearly spent their lives getting lots of exercise in bright sunshine, a dermatology practice will deliver that too. At her request, I told her all the countries I’d bicycled in, and also all the Texas towns I’d lived in, and while I was at it mentioned riding across South Carolina twice. She was delighted. She thought I should have a blog, or in some way write about all this. I disclaimed any such desire. But to myself I said, “Honey, if only you knew.”
Digressing a bit, I’d like to praise the physicians’ assistants who have treated me. Besides being quite personable, they’ve been very good at their medical jobs, asking me the medical questions that needed to be asked and answering my own. This derm P.A. neatly fielded the one about psoralen: no, the drug used for the phototherapy she was proposing is different, extremely different as I now know. I felt well-counseled. Plus I still have all my skin!
Surgeons are in a whole different category. I completely agree.
The practice I chose to have my eyes fixed had two user-friendly doctors for all the measurements and prep, and one drill sergeant who did the job with the laser. My vision went from 20/200 to 20/15 in a day.
Sounds like it was a good plan, Barfly!!
Ultimately, I want my doctor to be skilled, knowledgable, and dedicated. I want his treatments to effective and his advice to be wise ( loose weight! be more physically active! etc ). While I would like him to be pleasant, it is really secondary and not necessary. My wife’s kidney cancer was treated by a total jerk. 18 years ago. No cancer since. Still grateful to the jerk. Would recommend him highly and unconditionally.
All the best on your recovery, Susan! Looking forward to possibly seeing you on Passover.
Come all without,
Come all within,
You’ll not see nothing like the mighty Sue Quinn!
Makes me think of a dentist I once had, I swear he must have learned his craft in a Stasi prison. His assistant, Conan the Dental Hygienist, wasn’t much better. I convinced myself that they were just thorough and thought highly of them at the time, but in the end I think that was just Stockholm Syndrome. I eventually moved, and my new dentist was just as effective and never had to wedge my head between his bicep and forearm while scraping off my back molars.
I worked with an Egyptian doctor once, Dr. Abdul Saif, who would point at packets of white sugar and shout, “You see that? That is Satan in crystalline form!” He was a one-man war on everything that could contribute to diabetes.
How many would choose to go to the fictional Doc Martin?
From the time I entered the Air Force in 1978 until Fort Jackson kicked me out of primary care when I turned 65, I didn’t know what it was like to have a steady doctor. Between our PCS moves and their PCs moves, I saw whomever was there. Now I have a steady doctor.
I complained about a new ache once in the Air Force. That doctor’s comment, “what do you expect, you are getting older.” curmudgeon?
You made me smile. I’d settle for ordinary aches. Still waiting for the meds to kick in. Sigh.
Gosh Susan! Terrible what happened but so glad you had a quick and knowledgeable doctor. Wow! Are you feeling better and is the treatment long term?
Many years ago I got really sick and landed at Beth Israel in Boston – a Harvard teaching hospital. I was seen by a doctor of few words, just as you described. They ran me through every test trying to figure out what was wrong. I’d wake up in the AM with all the lights on and a team of students peering over me – I guess I was a test case!! This doctor bugged me because he wouldn’t tell me anything, but came and went after observing me. I was so upset.
It turns out this doctor was a top surgeon, but surgery was a last resort. He was excellent and also ran the breast clinic. He took great care of me and I got better, with two surgeries. I learned later that he transferred to run a Chicago hospital. I didn’t know how lucky I was – he was the best.
I’m so glad you had great results! Not feeling much better yet, but I’ve only taken three pills. I’m trying to be patient. Treatment often lasts a year, more or less, depending on how my body responds.
Curmudgeon confirmed.
This thread is bringing back all my favorite doctor stories. :-)
The day before my daughter Kate’s sixth birthday, we were heading out the door to the pediatrician for Kate’s annual checkup. I had my three-and-a-half-year-old’s hand. I had a lot on my mind with Kate’s birthday party the next day and everything else. As the three of us maneuvered through the storm door and front door, I slipped when I stepped off the step into a slight hollow that had formed in front of the step over time. My foot bent under my ankle in a funny way. It hurt a lot.
By the time I got to the pediatrician, I was having a lot of trouble walking. The pediatrician noticed it and asked me what happened. I told him. He said, just wear a tight-fitting shoe for a couple of days. But on my way out, the nurse was waiting in the hall outside the doctor’s office, and she said, “That is way too much pain. Get to the ER.”
That night, I went to the ER. The doctor had x-rays taken. He said to wear a tight-fitting shoe, and he gave me some codeine for a couple of days. And also the name of an orthopedic surgeon. The tight-fitting shoe treatment was standard back then. But overnight the pain got excruciating, even with the codeine. The ER had made an appointment for me with orthopedic surgeon (ahh, the good old days) for the morning. So I got Kate to school and then I took Carrie to her nursery school, and then I went to the orthopedic surgeon.
This is where the story got really funny. He showed me the x-ray and said he would put my leg in a cast. I said, “Wait, what? I have two little kids.” There was no point in arguing with him. And truthfully, as soon as he had the cast on, my foot felt better. Then he pointed to the break shown on the x-ray. “It’s going to take a week for this to knit properly. You can’t walk around for a week. Understood?”
“Okay. That’s great. Will do.” I started to get off the examining table.
Then, in the truly funniest moment I have ever had in a doctor’s office, he said, “Wait a minute.” He started working on the cast again. “There. That is a rounded bottom. If you try to walk on this, you will fall. Understood? You are just like my wife. I know you won’t stay off it. Now you have to. Keep it elevated on the couch for a week.”
My husband and I laugh to this day. This doctor had never met me, but, wow, did he know me. :-) :-) A truly great doctor. :-) It was weird break that often causes problems for people for the rest of their lives. Thanks, Dr. Manning. :-)