Wounded Healer

Middle-age affords some luxuries – the ability to make honest assessments and new choices. 


I remember when I first felt such empowerment. It began the morning I sat upon the paper-wrapped examining table for my annual exam. I had sat on that table every January for the past six years, and each time, I felt the same chill and entertained the same thoughts. 

“I really don’t like this doctor.”

Then I would remind myself, “You don’t need to like her; you just need to respect her expertise.”

I argued back to myself, “She is cold and has no bedside manner.”

“She doesn’t have to be your best friend, just competent.”