In July of 2011 I found myself seventy pounds lighter in a hospital bed at Children's and Women's Hospital. A nurse was placing a nasogastric tube when the team of doctors that were assigned to me came busting through the door. All of them were at a loss as to what was causing my gastrointestinal distress. When the doctor's left one resident, who made clear she wished to stay anonymous, gave my parents a note. The note said something to the tune of "I'm not allowed to refer you to someone outside of the practice but I have a brilliant family friend in Birmingham who could help you. He has a private practice with just he and his colleague." following that was a name and address. That day we called to make an appointment with the mysterious doctor and after mentioning the resident's name we got an appointment the next day. My parents requested for me to be discharged immediately from the hospital so we could see the mysterious doctor.
The next morning I found myself in a crowded room full of whining babies and cowboy boot wallpaper. A nurse took me to the back where soon I would meet the mysterious doctor. While I was sitting down in the back room I heard the clicking of shoes in the hallway that I believed belonged to a hardy parent. Little did I know that in the future, that clicking would be music to my ears and remind me of home. Upon looking up, I met the man who the clicking shoes belonged to. I don't know what I was expecting but he was not it. Standing about 6'5 was a heavy set man in his early fifties. A white coat and suit was no where in sight. The source of the clicking was his authentic cowboy boots and spurs. Hooked to his blue jeans were several pocket knives. Clasped to his wrist was what I would soon learn to be his hallmark accessory-a bronze bracelet that screamed 'tough guy'.
When Dr. King opened his mouth his voice was deep and boomed from the deepest point of his diaphragm and at times the meter in his voice would sing a tune depending on what emotion was flooding his heart. When laughing, his dull eyes melted into a milky gentle brown and the warmth overflowed and made his cheeks rosy red. The crow's feet latched to his eyes did not add age; it only acted as a lace that sowed years of wisdom. Although he had many patients waiting to see him, he spent a long time listening to my symptoms and reading over my chart. He became enraged over the things that angered me. He seemed to genuinely care although we have just met. At the end of the appointment he assured me that he would fix me. Although I have heard that many times, I believed him. Months later he diagnosed me quickly and efficiently. Unfortunately a diagnosis wasn't enough to fix me. One hospital say always sticks out in my mind. I was extremely sick at Children's Alabama in Birmingham. I was by myself in my hospital room because my parents went to the cafeteria to eat lunch. I was so weak I could barely make it from the bathroom to the bed. He was off that day but he came by to see his "kiddo". He sat on my bed, and after glancing at my history book, he talked to me about how he was from the state of Washington and after moving to Alabama he was shocked about how little his wife knew about The Civil War when they met. "Is that just a Southern thing?" he would say with his dumbfounded, jaw slightly dropped face. He gave me a good laugh while distracting me from the pain and fatigue.
That day he promised me that he wouldn't give up on me if I wouldn't give up on him. Although he may not know this, he helped me make a lot of decisions regarding school and acted as Christ to me. Dr. King and I also shared the same sense of sarcastic twisted humor. Before one of my colonoscopy's I wrote a few messages on my butt like "Scope here" and "Having fun yet". Before going under sedation I said "Hey make sure to turn me on my right side!" He argued with me and said that isn't the side they turn you on to scope you but when I said I had a message for him my favorite facial expression of his appeared. The smirk that only appears when he's sarcastic and when we both are up to no good. After my colonoscopy he said he and the nurses got a good laugh out of it and if it was legal, he wished he could have taken a picture of it. Dr. King has made the biggest impact on my life because in him I found who I was, what I aspired to be and more. I will always be grateful for all he has done for my family and I.
No comments:
Post a Comment