Julia is a fun-loving single gal. She is an avid Oakland A’s fan. She is also my patient. In my two years as her doctor, she has been devastated by the ravages of Multiple Sclerosis. She is now confined to a wheelchair. But Julia is full of spunk and determination.

Though she struggles mightily, she still manages to live independently. She combs the internet to find any device that might aid her. I then, dutifully, pursue these requests through our DME (durable medical equipment) department.

Many times, I have had long back-and-forth conversations with DME personnel to clarify the details of these requests.

I must confess: Some of the intricate, detailed specifics of these equipment orders were getting to be a little annoying. And, truth be told, all this was taking up a lot of my precious doctor time. I was beginning to feel less like a specialist physician and more like a health care butler.

I suspect that in one of my email conversations with Julia, she may have picked up on this attitude. In her next email equipment request, she concluded with these exact words, “Dr. Abramson, I trust that you will continue to be my advocate.”

And Julia was right. I should be her advocate. That is my job. But sometimes, like many of us, I get overwhelmed by the excruciating details of routine doctor busywork. I forget. I forget my job. I forget that my real job, above all else, is to be my patient’s advocate. Thank you, Julia, for this reminder. Thank you for this gift. I am humbled to receive it.

Respectfully submitted, Scott Abramson, M.D. ☤

“Julia’s Gift” first appeared in the book written by the author, “Bedside Manners for Physicians and everybody else: What they
don’t teach in medical school (or any other school)” and is reprinted with permission.