Round and round I climbed the parking garage in San Francisco. I can’t remember if I felt relieved or frustrated. Maybe a little of both. Relieved that my car and I were still intact after the drive into the city or frustrated that I couldn’t figure out this parking thing. Either way I had nearly made it to a doctor’s appointment without my Mom for like the first time. I can do it I told her. I’ve got this. I need to learn how to remember, recite, and answer questions about my 20+, single spaced, 10-point font, narrow-margined medical history book.
One of the GREAT benefits of moving from Indiana to the bay area when I was in high school was being near one of the best oncology doctors who treated and had been treating the type of childhood cancer I had been in remission for since 1990. Stage IV Neuroblastoma. Her name is Dr. Matthay. She was one of my heros and now she was one of my doctors. How the heck did I do that?!?
I am certain my mom still had to fill in half of the details of questions I could not answer that day. And I am not 100% sure if this day was a day I saw Dr. Matthay or another doctor at UCSF Children’s Hospital, but I am making a different point, so bear with me.
I draw your attention to UCSF Children’s Hospital because of how the team of health care providers created such a caring environment for me and my family during my time with them. From small details like how the offices looked and felt to big details about how I felt when a medical staff member was putting a pointy foreign object into my arm.
Do you feel like places are less intrusive and more calming when the walls and rooms have fewer sharp edges? I do. Or what about when the paint isn’t sterile white (or black)? How about fun seating areas that seem less stressful and more playful?
Do you also notice that medical care providers, the good ones at least (and all of them seemed to be at UCSF) try and work with you at your level even if your level isn’t quite above their knee?
It’s strange to me how much that can be tossed out the window when we reach a certain age or graduate out of a certain type of doctor. Like when I finally started to see “grown up doctors.” (Or skipped a few years because the US denied me healthcare due to pre-existing conditions).
Let me tell you, every day I wish I was still a young person not yet graduating to “grown-up doctors.”
I remember trying to find an adult equivalent of the pediatrician. It took me a VERY long time to realize that “grown-up” doctors are “internal medicine” doctors. Huh? How am I supposed to know that? I kept trying to just look for a doctor that specialized in nothing when first trying to find a Primary Care Physician. And then there’s the Primary Care Physician terminology. What now? Whatever happened to just seeing the doctor?
Anyhow. I’m back. Trying to blog. And since I consider myself an expert in being a patient. But not being patient. Or having patience with healthcare. And having some wicked interesting stories in this area, I thought you all might be interested in taking a ride down that road with me.
