Dr. Charles takes us back to a saner time…

Must be getting old. There are indeed things I miss from the past – even things I never experienced…

The Examining Room of Dr. Charles

“Indulge an old woman and just write that prescription out for me, will you doctor?”

I thought for a moment. “How about I call this in to Walter, that way you don’t have to drop it off. Smith’s Pharmacy delivers you said, right?”

This pleased her immensely, as I knew it would. It was a little bit of shameless grandstanding on my part. “Bless you,” she said. If there’s an easier way to get into the good graces of an elderly woman than calling in her medications for her, then I haven’t yet found it. Or maybe I’m just unwilling to find it, since I suspect it might involve massaging bunions while watching General Hospital before a midday nap.

“So I’ll call it in,” I said. I picked up line six, got the outside line, and punched the digital tones to get me Smith’s Pharmacy on Mill Road. I secretly wished I had a rotary phone. Maybe an old-fashioned cherry cola, too.

“Smith’s Pharmacy, this is Walter speaking, how can I help you,” came the polite baritone voice from the other end of the telephone wire.

“Hello, this is Aidan Charles, how are you today, sir?”

“I’m quite well today, doctor. And how are you?”

I caught the automaton in me becoming uncomfortable talking to a real, live pharmacist instead of an asexual female voice messaging system with twelve options. I was used to: Thank you for calling Big Chain Pharmacy. At Big Chain Pharmacy we’re committed to serving you and your healthcare needs with pride. Did you know that we now offer drive-thru service? Please choose from one of the twelve following options, and have a great day…

“I’m doing alright myself, thank you,” I replied to Walter. “I’m calling today because I have Mrs. O’Brien here in the office. We need to renew her medicines.”

“Mrs. O’Brien,” Walter said with satisfaction. “She’s been coming here since I first opened up. Let me see… any changes to her regimen, or will it still be furosemide 40, metoprolol 50, alendronate weekly, and warfarin 5 on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays alternating with warfarin 4 on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays?”

I was amazed. “That sounds right. Let’s refill them all for three months, and I’ll see her back then. Would it be any trouble to deliver them to her house?”

“No trouble at all, doctor. Is there anything else we can help you with today?”

Yes, Walter, there is. How about you lead us back into a time and place that respects community, one that doesn’t aim to primarily serve corporations, one that isn’t trying to foist health savings accounts, prescription costs, and the burden of health risk onto the already aching backs of individuals; one in which I can worry more about whether I’ve made the right diagnosis to help my patients than about whether they and their mad dog lawyers are frothing at the mouth ready to sue me if I haven’t; can you bring back F.D.R or Truman or Eisenhower? Can you do that, Walter? Can you also make me a cherry cola like they used to make in the mom and pop pharmacies before I was around?

“No thanks, sir,” I spoke softly into the phone. “It was a pleasure talking with you today. I’ll try to recommend more patients to your pharmacy.”

I hung up the phone and turned to Mrs. O’Brien. She had gathered all her things together and was ready to leave. “I appreciate you calling my pills in. I’m sorry you couldn’t use your fancy computer thing-a-ma-jig. I’m not sure all these gadgets make things easier for us older folks. We’re getting left behind I’m afraid.”

She cautiously stepped through the office on her way out, always one misstep away from falling and breaking a hip. Yet hers was a stronger world in many ways. I was sure of it.

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