Age and Trust

          So the other day at the pool a neighbor whom I barely know turned to me and inquired whether I had a doctor locally.
I immediately understood – I’ve been here before. My daughter has the same reaction every time she sees me in a swimsuit.

          I’ve always been freckled, and when the tell-tale signs of aging began arriving a few years ago I figured I was ahead of the game. Those age spots nestled quietly in with all the camouflaging polka dots already there.

          Unfortunately, my back is another story and in spite of sunscreen and beach umbrellas, things look a bit alarming. Up until now I’ve depended on my internist to keep me up to date on what’s going on back there, but I’m ready to bring in the big guns.

          I’ve already had an unpleasant appointment in the past with the dermatologist my doctor recommends, never mind the fact that the internet ratings put him at 2 out of 5 stars. He may know his stuff, but he has all the charm of a chained rottweiler.

          I called for an appointment with Dr. W., who was recommended by three different people. She wasn’t taking new patients, but would I like to be scheduled with someone else from the group? I hesitated, then said yes.

          I was booked with Dr. N for May.

          After hanging up, I looked up Dr. N. Not only was his rating 1.5 out of 5, he’s 79 years old. I wasn’t sure which worried me more – the rating or the age.

          At the risk of being ageist, I decided my health and peace of mind were more important than angering a receptionist.

This time before I called back, I researched the other doctors in the service, found two female doctors with good ratings, and I’m now scheduled with one of them for June. Phew.