So I'm at that age where it's necessary for me to (on occasion) meet healthcare professionals in relation to my health instead of in relation to my work, and so I became a patient again, nothing serious, nothing to talk about here, no sympathy required.
I travelled to London today to meet someone else on recommendation, someone who had helped one of my friends and might have been able to help me.
Then, all of a sudden, you're sat in front of someone, and you hope that you could be 50% of the person that they are with a patient; you hope you're able to make people feel the way he makes you feel, and you're glad that you call your own patients in from the waiting room (He was the only clinician who did that; everyone else asked their nurse to do that).
In spite of who he is or what he does, he introduces himself by his first name. He is so comfortable and confident because he's done things so many, many times, he's not scared that it might go wrong because he knows that he'll be pragmatic because no one better could have done it.
He also doesn't have to chase after work because he's in his 60s, and he's been doing this his whole life, and people will always send him patients as long as he chooses to work.
It's funny, isn't it? When you meet the man, you could have been or perhaps the man you hope you are (At least half of).
Blog Post Number - 4070