Monday, September 03, 2012

Morning Morning Coffee: Old School

Called the doctor last Friday.  While it was early - 7:30 am - knew the office would be open.  He is always there - four days a week and closed on Thursday's. Also closed for an hour for lunch (12:00 to 1:00pm).  Phone rang and was answered by usual female voice.  Now there are four people in the office - doctor, nurse, billing clerk and receptionist.

Stated my reasons for phoning - physical medical problem, a question, and a request.   Response - just a moment will check with doctor.  Seconds later -he wants to see you right away.

Now the office is in a small office complex on the edge of town.  It takes about 10 minutes - on a good traffic day - to get there from my home.  Arrived before eight O'clock.  Outer area quiet, no one around except the receptionist. 

About to sit down, open my book and begin reading - always take something read, never know long long the wait will be - when a door opens and the nurse says, "come with me" and off we go to a exam room along the hall - "doctor will be right in".

Sure enough in less than a couple of minutes, door opens and he enters with a file folder -  about two inches thick of loose papers - over 40 years of my medical history.  Now most medical offices have medical records on computers -saves time and space.  He once told me when I asked why paper and not a computer, that with a computer you are paying attention to the computer, not the patient.  With paper, I can carefully watch and then record.

We chat for a bit - what are you reading, rainy weather, ... etc.  Then - let's see the medical problem. 

He looks, pushes on injury - that hurt? Tries another spot - hurt? This continues for a while as I continue to answer no, no, no...... 

Quiet for time, opens the file folder to a fresh page and writes something. You need not have a x-ray.  Will prescribe some med's  and should be fine in about a week.

Now about the question.  I explain that I wonder if one of the pills I take could be replaced by something else, as it doesn't seem to be working.  Looks at me, and replies - yes there are alternatives.  After naming them, I ask which is best?  Answer, try one and see.  If not, then try another.  Continue until you are satisfied.  Some help some people and others help other folks.  Try and see what works for you.

Looks at me, and says, "I'll be right back"  Returns with a sheet of note paper with his name, address, phone number printed on the top.  With out asking, begins to write a response to the request that I stated earlier to the receptionist. Finished and handed to me, we talk about about the coming weekend.

 "Did I have enough reading to last the rainy time?"  After office hours, he was off to the library and bookstore to replenish his reading supply.

Finally, " Let me know in a week about the injury".

In the late 60's I spent several weeks with a group of photographers in Yosemite Valley.  We we learning about conservation, photography, and a way of life from our teacher - Ansel Adams.

Early one morning found us scattered about the landscape, searching for images, setting up camera equipment, and taking photographs.

Finding a location, looking at the scene and then setting up my camera, I waited for the "right moment" to expose the film.  As I waited, Ansel appeared and asked " What do you see?"  Then without a breath, he said, "See that rock, see the moving water, notice the trees and the cliffs behind.   How do you see them?  What is your previsualized photograph?'  This from a man that had been hiking, camping and photographing the area for over thirty years.  He knew and understood the landscape, the light and the feel of the land.

I responded with my hopes for the photograph.  He listened, nodded and then, film?  I told him, he looked at me and said, "15th of a second at f32."  Then, turned, and as walking away, "Let me know how it turned out."

The injury is getting better, not normal yet, but getting there.  The photograph represents what I saw and felt that early morning in the valley.

Old School.

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