Declining Professionalism in Healthcare or What Happened to All the Good Magazines?
It dawned on me. I was an adult. Here I was sitting in the lobby of a medical office without my mother. At age sixteen I had driven myself to the appointment. There was no pageantry, no ceremony, and no announcements or gifts. Adulthood just happened. It came about in the most unceremonious way: My first physical examination by an internal medicine doctor, not a pediatrician. I think that’s why I remember it so well. It’s like a slow motion movie in my head. Is my memory correct? The movie in my head seems idealized, like an episode of Marcus Welby, MD. I had been apprehensive about going. My brothers had warned me of the gloved examination ahead of me. Or should I say “behind” me? And the Internist’s name was Doctor Payne ! (I heard Pain ) But the apprehension was fading fast. The Lady at the front counter had been really nice. She had noted that I was a Franklin. She had talked about my family and how much she liked my parent...