Saying Goodbye to My Doctor

For more than twenty years, I have had the same primary care physician.

When you keep the same doctor that long, something happens that goes well beyond medicine. He learns your medical history, your habits, your family, and your concerns. More importantly, he learns who you are.

The relationship works both ways.

Over the years, I also learned about him—his interests, his sense of humor, his opinions, and the way he approached medical problems. I came to understand not only what he recommended, but why he recommended it. That mutual understanding became an important part of the care I received.

Our appointments weren’t just about blood pressure, prescriptions, or lab results. We talked about travel, writing, economics, family, how our activities were changing as we both grew older, and occasionally even politics, where we sometimes agreed and sometimes didn’t.

Those conversations weren’t distractions from medicine.

They were part of the medicine.

They gave him a much better understanding of the person sitting in front of him, not just the medical chart on the computer screen.

I have been fortunate. My doctor is a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine, and throughout my life I’ve been treated by two osteopathic physicians who rank among the finest doctors I have ever known. Years earlier, after a serious head-on automobile accident, another osteopathic physician helped put me back together.

What impressed me about both of them was not simply their medical knowledge. They always looked beyond the immediate symptoms to understand the underlying causes. They considered lifestyle, physical activity, previous injuries, and the whole person rather than just the immediate complaint.

They both knew, for example, that I had practiced judo for many years until a black belt competition ended with a badly broken knee. That wasn’t just an interesting story. It helped explain how my body had changed over the years and influenced the way they thought about my long-term health.

Now my primary care doctor has decided it is time to retire.

I knew this day was coming. We had talked about it for several years. Knowing it was inevitable, however, doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

Now I have to find another primary care physician.

That sounds simple.

It isn’t.

The first challenge is practical. Does the practice accept my insurance? Is it accepting new patients? Is the office conveniently located? In many communities, including mine, there simply aren’t enough primary care physicians to go around. In some cases, healthcare organizations are assigning doctors to patients rather than allowing patients to choose among those who are available.

Those are real issues.

But they aren’t my biggest concern.

What I’m really wondering is whether I can ever build that same relationship again.

Today’s healthcare system places enormous emphasis on efficiency. Physicians are expected to complete more documentation, satisfy insurance requirements, and see more patients than ever before. A physician friend of mine told me that one of the reasons he finally retired was not because he no longer enjoyed caring for patients, but because he no longer enjoyed the pressure to see more patients every hour.

I understand why those pressures exist.

Healthcare has become more complicated. Documentation requirements have grown. Insurance companies demand more information. Organizations must remain financially viable.

But I still wonder what has been lost along the way.

Can a doctor really know a patient after ten or fifteen hurried minutes? Can trust develop when both doctor and patient are watching the clock?

Perhaps I’ll be fortunate enough to find another physician who believes that getting to know the patient is still part of practicing medicine.

I hope so.

At my age, changing doctors feels a little like moving to a new neighborhood after living in the same house for decades. You know it can work. You know you’ll eventually adjust.

But you also know some relationships cannot simply be replaced.

Sometimes the greatest value a physician provides isn’t found in a prescription, a diagnosis, or a test result.

Sometimes it comes from the confidence of knowing that the person sitting across the desk truly knows you.

And perhaps that’s the hardest part of saying goodbye.