My dad practiced medicine for his career. He started the clinic where I’m at when I was young/a baby/before I was born. I’ve seen this clinic grow from a smaller office of only a handful of physicians to the size it is now, and where it is now. I remember when my dad was approving layout designs for the new space. The blueprints were so interesting to me and I was always asking for updates on the construction/development.
I know a lot of the physicians that are still practicing here. Most of them were hired by my dad. He’s inspired a lot of the physicians here and he tried to keep the clinic culture and focus on the patients. Something that can be lost (and is lost) sometimes in medicine. It’s a very proud moment for me as a daughter to see the fruits of my dads labor. But I will also be honest, I didn’t always have this level of appreciation. Maybe it’s because I’m married into medicine now, or maybe it’s because I’m older. Either way, I’m proud of my dad.
I’m sitting here in the waiting room of the same clinic my dad started, grew, and retired from. I’m waiting to see my PCP and I can’t help but think about this stuff. This clinic has been around my entire life. All 29 years of it. The chair I’m sitting in – I remember the conversation about design. My dad was explaining why they were needed. For those who are curious, they’re extra wide chairs for those who are on the heavier side and they’re able to support the weight. It’s memories and conversations like the one about the chair that make me smile and chuckle.
They’re going to call my name soon. Here we go.
Navigating Life as a Doctor's Wife 