The receiving end

They say doctors make the worst patients. It’s true we don’t do well on the receiving end of medical care. And colonoscopy, where I found myself recently, is about as “receiving end” as it gets.

Dr — introduced himself, addressing me as “Miss —”, and I immediately found myself annoyed. (Sadly, annoyance comes more easily after 24 hours of bowel prep.) He delivered a canned speech in dumbed-down language and then focused his attention on the computer and my medical record. Behind his back, I rolled my eyes at my husband. I knew I had delivered many a similar speech, but I was still irritated. I wanted to be acknowledged as special, knowledgeable, one of the “in crowd” — someone with something to give.

After he finished charting, Dr — turned back to me. “I see you’re a neonatologist… our baby was in the NICU earlier this year.” Out came the story of a scary start, a relatively brief stay, then a promising ending to their baby’s beginning. And gratitude for our team’s care.

We moved on to the “in crowd” stuff: chatting about how we ended up at this institution, finding out we’d even trained in the same place, following the familiar ways of relating to colleagues— but now I was caught by the awareness that he too had experienced the vulnerability of being on the receiving end. And in a much more precarious situation than mine.

“Well, I’ll see you back there,” he said as he rose to leave.

“OK, I’m trusting y’all,” I found myself replying. “Just like you trusted us with your baby.”

Dear Lord, forgive me for my arrogance. And accept my gratitude for the experience of neediness. Help me to receive with thanks.