The Power of Good Touch– How to Tell the Difference Between a good Doctor, an Excellent Doctor and a Doctor Who You Never Wish to Relplace!!!

How many times, as a young woman, I was told to go to a certain doctor because the clinic or hospital with which the doctor was affiliated are conveniently located? How many times was I told to see a doctor because he or she was a friend’s friend, or had a short wait list, or no wait list at all?

The concept that a doctor is a doctor, is a doctor, could be compared to the idea that I could paint as well as Salvador Dali, or sing like Adele  or act like Sally Field, and the list goes on and on…The truth is, I cannot! I wish!

After the publication of my Memoir, ‘The Gypsy Saw Two Lives,’ a High School friend from Romania, asked me: “Where did you learn how to write in English?”

He truly didn’t understand why having had the same teachers of English, I ‘learned,’ but he didn’t!  He, on the other hand, was an architect. Geometry and drawing and the gift of design came easy to him.

How could I explain to my friend that each person enters the journey of LIFE with a gift. We all do, but many have difficulties finding ours. It does not mean we don’t have a gift, it only means it is hard to detect it, or we don’t try enough, or  many times those responsible for our development and choices of careers direct us forcefully in the direction they wish. Many times, a parent couldn’t follow his or her dream and forces the child to fulfill the dream of the parent. This could result in confused or even worse, unhappy lives. Many times, at the end of the journey, a person looks back and has to admit in horror that nothing was accomplished of what they would have liked! Their dream turned to dust!

Such sad endings don’t mean the person wasn’t born with a gift. It only means the dream was lost somewhere on the way. The possibilities of  lost dreams are many. There are cross roads and dead ends, and clearings with lakes or running rivers, or oceans and seas …

A brief description would be: TEMPTING!!! to get lost, easier to take a short-cut.

Yes, it is tempting to take an easy way, or to avoid taking the responsibility of a path. When one makes a choice, there is the possibility to win, to be happy, successful, but there is another possibility we all fear: to fail, to be sad, unhappy, to feel  one failed!

Who would wish such an ending: to have lived and to reach the end and look back to see nothing… or even worse, to only see scenes one dislikes, or hates or worse… feels ashamed of!

How do I know  so much about the winding path of life, one might ask?

The answer is simple:

I was one of the manipulated, I was pushed ( read forced) to wonder on various paths which weren’t mine. They were my mother’s. Today, as I approach the stage of life when soon I will have to look back and draw a line and the sign = ??? I see my mother  who was a doctor, a good but unfulfilled doctor, simply because to be a doctor was not her dream! Her dream was to be an Architect and she projected her dream on me!

Today,  I’d call what she did, “manipulation.” At the time when it  happened, I called it motherly love. It was such a warm, comfortable feeling to feel loved by my mother. However, the price for that feeling was a confused youth. Changing careers so many times, I lost count…

Ultimately, after my mother died with her dream of me being an architect unfulfilled, I re-positioned myself, took off the blindfold and started to try various paths which were hidden from me. Soon I discovered my love of writing. It is true, one could ‘learn’ how to write business letters, essays for school tests. This was not the type of writing my architect friend was asking me about. He wanted to know how and where I learned how to write so that many others don’t get bored and throw my writing away after reading the first two lines. That answer was simple: A gift from God and work!

Late in life, I also discovered that my dream, not my mother’s was to be in the helping profession. This was how after I finished my B.A. in English and Romanian, I went to graduate school, and earned my Master of Science in Counseling and Clinical Psychology.

I am sure, by now, the readers of this article might ask themselves, Why is she telling us all of this and how does it connect to being a good doctor?  

If you made it so far into this post, please bear with me a little more…

It is only human, by my standards, to look back and contemplate my life and accomplishments before  I have surgery, especially when it requires general anesthesia. This was what I experienced yesterday, a fairly difficult surgery which triggered the thoughts I share with you now.

My kind neighbor dropped me off and picked me up from the hospital. I entered the hospital alone. I walked the long corridors alone. I pressed the button in elevator D, alone. I was in the waiting room alone. I made the mistake to check around me and I was the only person unaccompanied by a family member. When I realized that, I felt not only alone, but LONELY and SAD!!! I promised my readers to always tell the truth: My heart was broken, what was left of it.

The staff at Pinnacle Hospital made up for my lack of family. I cannot speak any higher of their kindness. Perhaps they felt sorry for me, but the well of tears  had dried already.

After having been asked a few times, my age, why was I there, and the question I like the most, on what side will I have  surgery, I was wheeled in the operating room.

My surgeon,  Angela, Soto Hamlin, M.D. came close to me, as the intravenous, general anesthesia medication started to flow towards my fearful body. Then the miracle happened. Dr. Hamlin reached out and held my hand! In a fraction of a second, my sadness, fear, but especially loneliness disappeared! Her hand expressed a million feelings and one more, but in one  sentence, I would describe  how I felt as a GIFT FROM GOD!

The last thing I recall before I fell asleep, was her touch which spoke to me: Don’t worry, I am here, I am with you and everything will be fine. You are not alone or lonely.

When I woke up, two hours later,  I could  still feel my surgeon’s wonderful touch on my hand.

I could still feel it NOW, because her touch  will be in my heart forever, a gift from God, when I needed His reassurance the most.

Is Dr. Hamlin a good surgeon? She is an exceptional surgeon, but what would make me follow her no matter where she’d work is her sensitivity as a human being. Her Godly touches from all points of view, when I needed them most.

P.S. Late at night, after reading tens of reassuring messages via Facebook and texts, my friend, whose love and purity of feelings have supported me all my life, wrote  after she called  first, to tell me, my daughter, a M.D. and OBGYN, sent my friend a brief email upon learning about my surgery:

“I will pray for her.”

I felt so lucky, with her busy schedule, my daughter had found the time to  write the email and pray for me, her Mom. What I truly hoped was that she would hold a stranger’s hand, just like Dr. Hamlin held mine. I hoped that stranger, because of my daughter’s reassuring  and honest touch would feel less lonely.

There is a price we pay for everything in life…

Is that good or bad? It depends on our deeds. 

In Conclusion:

Thank God for Dr. Hamlin’s Heavenly touch and her heart of gold!  

 

The Single, Married Mom!

Hmm… this must be a mistake, she is married or she is single or divorced or widowed. Single but married is  clearly wrong, as the two terms contradict each other, or do they?

If you are one of the Facebook perfect mothers, whose husbands remember your Anniversary, mows the loan without you asking him ten, eleven, twelve times, reads or sings or whatever, spends “quality time,” with your children every day and participates in all their activities, PLEASE STOP READING NOW!!! You are wasting your precious time which could be much better used posting the latest box of chocolates you received from your hubby and red roses.

This post  is written for the  less fortunate,  the “OTHER GROUP OF MOTHERS,” the ones who “act happy,” but are desperate and hide their desperation behind fake smiles… the ones  who stay in married relationships hoping that is the answer and the best thing to do for their children: To have both parents, regardless the secret  truth that one is absent and present only on paper, when BOTH signatures are required by the school!

Never mind that the man, with whom the single married Mom, stays in a relationship, never praises the daughters, and later, when your daughters pick the wrong partners, the single married Mom, wonders why!!! Later, as in TOO late, she has an epiphany:

The FIRST man in a woman’s life is their father! If the father gave the  daughter the message, “you are worthless,” well, she will feel worthless at the very core for the rest of her life (if something, such as good therapy doesn’t interfere with the hidden tragedy of low self-esteem. MARK MY WORDS: GOOD THERAPY! BAD THERAPY WILL DESTROY HER FURTHER!)

Most times, the “worthless”  children do unforgettable, shameful,  wrong acts! If such disasters happen, they suddenly become “your children,” as if you conceived them alone, in the convenience of your single bed. An immaculate conception, or worse!

If once in the Blue Moon, the same worthless children who were ALL yours, do something worthy, accomplish something, suddenly the SAME kids are entirely claimed by Dad and his everlasting efforts. Who cares that you, the married single Mom has been waking up  daily at 6:00 AM, fed the pets (how could we forget, any respectable family must have pets too!) and then made lunch and then shook the kids to make them conscious enough to sit in the back of a van, and drove them to school.

Once upon a time, before going to  the “real work,”  you stop back home in hopes you and  the Dad (not your Dad, the pretend one to your kids,) might have an adult conversation. Translation: A FIGHT!

It doesn’t start as a fight, it never does. He still sips coffee and watches the news or whatever relaxes him before going to work.

After the story that follows, my “pretend” single, married Mom stopped trying to rush back for adult conversations, and this is why…

It feels like yesterday… actually, it feels in the moment, that morning, when the married single Mom attempted to economize and made him lunch because she secretly noticed the credit cards were maxed. She prepared a tray with four compartments, and decorated it with a flower and presented it to the man of the house, while he was still watching the news. What a mortal mistake! To interrupt the intellectual activity  of watching television!

Here is the moment when she  first questioned her intelligence: She presented  the tray and mumble something to the effect that “they” (as in the household) would save $3 to $5, daily if he would consider the humiliating act of eating  lunch from home and not eat  “out” at a vendor, or worse a restaurant.

How could the single married Mom ever forget? His  memorable look, his eyes, which years ago whispered with ease, “I love you,” now spoke flames of hate: How dare YOU insult me! Lunch from home! NEVER!

Before any words were exchanged, he picked up the tray so lovingly decorated, and threw it against the French doors of the perfect American family living room. Shattered glass everywhere, mixed with crushed dreams and tears, topped with sadness and lies, lies to cover the…TRUTH!!!

(How lucky! one might think.  No human victims! What if the kids were at  home, what if they saw what happened? Would anyone be interested in THE TRUTH? WHY WOULD THAT BE RELEVANT?

Truth be told, the kids were  home. In all honesty, one daughter was in the single, married Mom’s  arms and the other still unborn, in the uterus, but why would the truth be revealed now… may be later, may be never… it ALL depends.

For now, let’s say there were just those two adults, once upon a time loving  couple and the lunch off the plastic tray spread everywhere. More precisely, the tray thrown in a corner,  the food allover among the peaces of shattered glass, and the single, married Mom, disoriented and speechless in the mist of it all, watching Him storming out the door! End of adult conversation!

The married, single Mom, cleaned carefully, before the dog had a chance to eat the ham mixed with the shattered glass. She wiped her  pretend tears of happiness and off she went to her job which made money. That job was  her recreational time, the ONLY time when she felt appreciated and needed… and let’s not be too theatrical and stop here for now.

After all, it is a show, isn’t it and Facebook is real!

There are NO such families, there are no single married Moms.

 

This post… is a joke!    Or is it?

Please if it resonates with you, let me know and we’ll continue to explore what happens to the single married Mom…