My old Doc

Back in the early 90’s my wife and I moved from Southern California to the Wichita, Kan., area for a job opportunity offered to me.

We made the move and in the process of settling in a new area, a number of resources need to be developed. This was not our first move, so we had a list. Doctors, dentists, haircutters, and of course, pizza joints.

I was aware that I was a certainly a candidate for Diabetes 2, as both my father and his grandfather were insulin users late in their lives. So, finding a doctor was a priority for me.

The first doctor I went to filled my hands with pamphlets, referrals for information, and cautions about my future. I felt no partnership, no bond with him, and certainly no plan for the way forward. 

So, I asked around my new workplace and one of the older employees – his name was Clem and he had significant medical problems that he was recovering from – mentioned Dr. Keller

He warned me that he was hard to work with, was quite choosy about new patients, but was the best doctor in the area. 

I was able to get an appointment based on Clem’s recommendation and met with him. He was gruff, asked probing questions, told me of his patient/doctor relationship philosophy, and developed a get-to-know-you plan on the spot. I made an appointment for three months ahead and promised to evaluate both my compliance and the results. 

The three-month appointment came and I found myself in front of an angry doctor. He looked at the results, was disgusted, and told me to find another doctor unless I wised up. He refused to waste his time on patients who didn’t follow through. 

“I’ll give you 30 days”. That was his final and only offer.

Guess what? I walked out and said to myself, “That guy cares – get with the program.”

I doctored with Dr. Keller for the next 15 years; who always took me into account when evaluating tests, who spoke bluntly and freely when talking with me, and who I never doubted for a moment how much he cared.

I made him promise me he wouldn’t retire and leave me. I got a letter one day, hand-signed, letting me know he could no longer be my physician. Retired.  

Thanks for everything, Doc.