I decided to head to the general practitioner today for some medicine as a precautionary measure, in case I need them on the trip. I intend to visit the clinic located near my old house where I used to stay. About the doctor, anyone who does not appreciate him will think he is weird.
He is petite, in his fifties I reckon. Scarcely eight stone, skinny and his head barely the size of the rugby ball. He wore a pair of gold rimmed spectacles that is dramatically oversized and precariously hanging from the tip of his small nose, making you feel the urge to adjust it for him. The moment you sat opposite to him, his eyes will stare at you blankly, waiting for you to speak your mind. This is how he handles all his customers; his behavior is awkward in contrast to the average doctors’ approach to a patient. In normal cases, doctors will initiate the conversation and express concern about your illness. He does not. He will sit and literally look at you, waiting earnestly for you to speak. People who do not know him will think he is mute. If you get use to his style, you will knock his door, greet him, sit down and immediately fire off your symptoms. This is what a typical type A person like me does, in order to avoid any awkward or embarrassing moments of silence. If I paused to search for words and find ourselves looking at each other, my last weapon is to smile silly. It definitely pose a feat to any patient who does not know him. I imagine the patient and doctor staring at each other.
His clinic is simple, downright plain and dull and looks like an aged old hospital room in the eighties. A greyish fan hanging from the ceiling, chairs that form a line just like what you see in a colonial hospital. No tint of technology is present as the receptionist handle records using primitive paper and pen. Two short cabinets for records storage and shelves with countable packs of medicine are all this clinic has. Non glamorized image of the eighties. If I had with me a radio playing oldies or retro music, anyone will be disillusioned to believe that they are back to the past. In the doctor’s room, things have not been simpler. You can count with your ten fingers the instruments he had, all laid out neatly on the table. I used to stare at the table with wonderment. Yes, I am not appalled, but amazed at this doctor’s works. He charged 16 dollars for almost every consultation and prescription I have five years ago. Five years later and now, he charged 18 dollars. If you think this is low cost strategy in marketing terms, I absolutely have no doubts about it. In fact, I felt he is doing charitable work. His works speak humanity, love.
I found out that he attended the same church as I am when I discovered him sitting in the front row during last Sunday’s sermon. Now when coming to singing hymns, our church goers are a spontaneous and joyous lot, we resemble a collective choir when we sing in spirit, joyfully clapping widely and raising our voices and occasionally, our hands in exuberance. In between singing the hymns, I stole some glances to observe his actions. He can hardly sing or utter a word or open his mouth. The distance between his hands as he clapped looks like a pathetic five centimeters apart. He seems slow in his action. He holds a bible so old that the pages are yellow. He looks restricted in his movements that invite numerous sympathetic looks from people who sit around him. No one knew he is a doctor. Nevertheless, he was in his Sunday best. Once I saw him drove an old tattered car.
I wonder how he sustains his practitioner work. Somehow or rather, after a tired day’s work and hogging around to complete my errands, I need a little inspiration. I decided to ask him a question I had on my mind while walking towards the clinic today. I wonder how he survive and correlate his works to God’s works.
I knocked on the door as usual when my turn comes. In a militant way, I sat down, look at him and started my impromptu script of the symptoms I have. With a greeting to start off with,
Me : Hi doctor, I saw you at the church the other day! {He hardly smile but I learnt that the mention of church will lit him up}
Doctor : ..
Me : I am going for a US trip, so can you prescribe some sleeping pills for me for the flight in case I have a jet lag and do you have the 5 mg or 10 mg type. Also I have been having sore throat lately.
Doctor : ………..(looked at me)
Me : So you have the 5 mg type? I will take the smaller capacity ones. I need ten of them. For sore throat, what prescription will you be providing? Antibiotics?
Doctor :……….lozenges. {He don’t usually encourage antibiotics}
Me : Okay, but I think I need antibiotics.
Doctor: …………(looked at me, then proceed to take down notes)
Me : Doctor, uh..how do you think god sustain you in your works?
Doctor:………….(He looked a little stunned and confused by my question)
Me: Hmnnn..I mean, how do you think God helps you in your work, you know, it is so competitive in this industry. {Actually I mean to say, with the way he is running the clinic like a charitable house charging patients low cost , how the hell can he manage to survive for years given the important focus on first impression and presentation as some of the pertinent factors for business going concern and revenue. The clinic and his demeanor hardly conveys}
Doctor: {This time I manage to get two words from him}…..you mean?
Me: {I swallow hard and summarized everything I have asked, trying to be as polite as I can} I mean what is your belief in God that he will help you?
Doctor: Ah.. (chuckle again)
Doctor: Well…………………Because I believe
Me: { I persist to ask again, fumbling for words in too conscious an attempt} You mean? {I sound like him before, this is obviously a silly question..}
Doctor: WELL, I mean GOD IS GOOD! No DOUBT about it! {I stared at him, not expecting such an abrupt answer}
Me: Ohh..true.!!{I actually know these facts but facts coming from a man of few words like him seems magical enough to inspire me for that awkward moment}
Suddenly satisfied by his answers. I stood up thanking him before I leave, feeling utterly proud that I have asked him the question. Before I reached for the door knob, I turn again.
Me: Doctor, I will get the 5mg medicine I want right?
Doctor : ……………..
****************************************************************
To me, he seems noble and ‘great’ in his own contribution. A good man who is admirable by his determination to do good works although he does not communicate or publicised his intentions.
Isn't that God want us to do?
After I paid for the medicine, I decided next time when I return again, I will ask him more.
