Good Doctor

Two weeks ago, I went to see a new doctor. I'll call her Dr. Owens. My experience was totally different in every way than with Dr. This Ain't No WalMart. There were several things Dr. Owens did that set her apart. When I walked in, the waiting room was set up like a living room, not a waiting room. There was a candle burning on the sign in counter and the check-out counter. The tv was in an entertainment unit with a bunch of videos lined up underneath it, much like in many homes. There was a basket full of magazines next to the couches. Cozy.

When I saw the doctor, I went into her office instead of into a clinical room with anatomy posters and dipolomas on the walls. Instead the walls were decorated like a home office. She had family pictures and art on the walls. The floor was tiled much like the tile in my home and she had music playing behind her. I sat in a big comfy chair. Dr. Owens was wearing street clothes, not a lab coat. She talked to me like she had nowhere else to be. She looked at me when she talked to me, not at a clipboard or her computer screen. When I told her that I had adrenal fatigue, she asked if I'd read the book by that name by Dr. James Wilson. She wanted me to be educated. That is rare from the doctors I've visited.

I could go on. I was very pleased with her demeanor, not to mention that she cut my bill by half when she found out I was cash-paying. Doctors don't all have savior complexes and shouldn't treat you like you're too dumb to have a medical degree yourself. You know your body better than anyone. Find a doctor who respects that.