Our doctor’s office. It is a treat to go there. Nov. 7, 2019. Paul Goldfinger ©
Paul Goldfinger, MD
Years ago doctors had their offices in houses. Sometimes they lived in the same building. You would walk in and sit in the living room. There was something reassuring about that; now they are all housed in sterile and often scary office buildings.
My internist has his office in a beautiful Victorian home near Ocean Grove. He’s a personable guy, the sort who makes you feel comfortable. Then when you leave and step outside, especially on a nice day, you just take a deep breath and resume your life, hopefully with some optimism.
So I was walking up to the doctor’s front door as an elderly couple stepped out into the sunshine. As I passed them I heard her say, “So….do ya wanna go to the diner? You can get pork roll.”
But, you know, leaving a doctor’s office with encouraging news can really result in a sudden desire to have something wonderful to eat–a celebration of still being alive. Who cares if pork roll isn’t on your diet?
THE CAMBRIDGE SINGERS AND JOHN RUTTER. “A Gaelic Blessing.”
I must confess: Our cardiology group had an office in Dover that used to be a large house, but before we moved in it had been converted into a funeral home, complete with a large garage for several black vehicles.
All the patients knew what it had been, and we had lots of jokes about it. Humor can also be therapeutic.