The Good Doctor

Yesterday, I had an appointment with The Doctor about The Panic. It was no small accomplishment to get this appointment. It required getting a list of referrals from The Other Doctor. Cross-referencing the referred doctors with those covered by The Insurance, which was a little tricky because I changed my plan two months in based on the recommendation of the HR consultant.

And when I called those who double qualified (referred and covered!), I found one doctor who wasn't accepting new patients, one whose first available appointment was in December, and one who required some personal information and a description of symptoms for a sort of MD audition before he would accept me as a patient. This is The Doctor with whom I had an appointment.

But, through some snafu with the entire health care system in America, when I arrived to see The Doctor, I found that The Insurance was not accepted. Because of two tiny words printed under the plan line. The Nice Receptionist offered to let me cancel without paying the cancellation fee, but I knew I needed to see The Doctor. So I opted to self-pay, closing my eyes briefly so as not to envision what the bill would be.

And there in the waiting room, I felt bitterly ironic that The Panic was rising the moment I was called to see The Doctor.

But fate took another little twist. The Doctor was actually a wonderful, wonderful person who listened to what I had to say and told me that I am not crazy. We made plans for Right Now and we talked about Next Steps. And then he told me there would be no charge. I went to The Doctor for free.

As I was leaving he said, "If you have any problems - any at all - call me. I mean it. And don't worry about the insurance thing. We'll work something out."

I walked out of The Doctor's office feeling a small bubble of hope rising against The Panic and the autumn afternoon light was so clear that I swear I could almost see The End in sight.