The Saturday Evening Post

BETTER MEDICAL CARE FOR THE ELDERLY

When I tell someone what I do for a living, they usually have one of two reactions. Either their face contorts as if they’d just smelled something foul, or they offer compliments about my selfless dedication to an important cause.

Those in the former camp usually hurriedly change the subject; many in the latter group tell me, either outright or by implication via excessive praise and admiration, that I’m a saint. These apparently opposite responses are actually the same. Both imply that what I’m doing is something no one in her right mind would do.

Actually, in studies of physician career satisfaction, geriatricians come out on top. There are many reasons why doctors who specialize in the care of old patients are overall happier and more fulfilled. If you choose to do something that falls at the low end of the spectrum of prestige, power, respect, and income in a profession where all four are possible, chances are you are doing it for the reasons that give life meaning: It interests and inspires you, you believe in it, and it gives you pleasure. In other words, you are doing it for love.

The doctor in me noted that Eva had some trouble hearing, even more difficulty seeing, arthritic fingers, and an antalgic gait that favored her right side. But her brain was sharp.

One cold winter night, several years ago, coming from an appointment, I noticed a woman standing in the shadows, leaning against the wall. She held a mobile phone, her shoulders were slumped, and her hair disheveled by an increasingly cold evening breeze.

I asked if she was okay. When she answered, “Yes,” I waited. She looked at the sidewalk, lips pursed, and shook her head. “No,” she said. “My ride didn’t come, and I have this thing on my phone that calls a cab but it sends them to my apartment. I don’t know how to get them here, and I can’t reach my friend.”

She showed me her phone. The battery was dead. I called for a taxi with my phone and helped her forward from the entryway wall to the curb. Tired and cold, she

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