Letter of Thanks

When I received your letter saying you are retiring after so many years of practice, I was happy that you would be moving on and segueing into another interesting part of your life.  Although I hadn’t seen you for a few years due to a change in insurance, I was still saddened.  Like most endings of enduring relationships, I ran in my head a retrospective of our visits together.

In particular, what immediately came to mind was into the first few years as my doctor, you recommended a procedure I wasn’t familiar with, and I inquired what precisely you intended to do.  Next thing I knew, you had stepped out, hauled in what looked like a trombone case,  and showed me the instrument and how you planned on using it.   I appreciated this candid demo, as unwieldy as it was in such a small space.  You were a straight-shooter when it came to my health, no matter the questions I would ask.  You were my doctor and nothing else.

Yet every visit you also managed to be very kind.   Once you told me, “There’s nothing wrong with you, Rachelle.  You’re perfect.”  You could imagine that remark would go a long way.  At one point, I joked to friends you were the only steady I was seeing all year.  It was tough, but what I needed most during that time of uncertainty was a rock, which you were.  Eventually, I got passed it, and here I am, as healthy as I could ever be.

On a side note, there was the time I unexpectedly ran into you at the theater shortly after a visit.  You said you picked up tickets for “Spring Awakening” on the street upon hearing the musical was a comedy.  You were waiting for your wife.  I didn’t want to break it to you that while it had funny moments, “Spring Awakening” wasn’t exactly a bundle of laughs.   That was, I believe, three years ago, the last time I saw you.

A doctor once told me the only physician a woman really needs is her gynecologist, which, it turns out, isn’t entirely true.  (Well, he was in orthopedics.)  But for a long time,  that’s who you were, an abiding beacon through some storms and choppy waters, in this woman’s life.

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About Rachelle Ayuyang
I am a writer feeding my soul by doing something I love, mining some of the deepest parts of me to dig up gems and sometimes diamonds in that rough.

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