When I found out my doctor was retiring, I burst into tears. He patted my hand and said, “Janica, I’m turning 70. Did you think I would never retire?” I moaned, “no I did not. I thought you’d work until one of us dropped dead.” He laughed, “I want to enjoy the last of my years, I want to travel, to not have to schedule celebrations and long lunches into only the weekends at best.”

He was my parent’s doctor and when I was looking for a new doctor, he became our family doctor.  He delivered my daughter.  He was there when my parents died.  When Zane was killed. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, he hugged me and said, “we’ll get through this together.” And we did. He has always been there, through thick and thin. For all of us.

I jest that I am mad he is retiring because it has taken me years to train him to get on my program. As a person who needs to process my health challenges, study alternative healing and then decide what is best for me, my doctor respected that and indulged me.  “What will your herbalist suggest?”, he’d ask after explaining what my latest test results showed. His compassion for spending the time you needed rather than the time that was available, kept the waiting room full.  His nurse kept us entertained with lively conversation while we waited our turn. Doctor visits were not a dreaded thing. And all this will end with his retirement.

I’m not sure how to say goodbye to the man that has cared for my entire family forever. Being in my 60’s who will be the next doctor that I can trust to examine me and know what is normal and not for me. Your doctor is your most trusted ally. They are the person whose education and expertise will guide you through the physical and mental challenges life brings you. They play a big part in your longevity. His departure leaves me feeling vulnerable. And there it is.

A common characteristic of grief is the fear of more change, the dislike that we are not in control of what will be. My doctor is going to retire and of course I want him to enjoy life. The realization that the person who has cared for me, who I have trusted my life and the lives of my family with, will no longer be there is a big change. I am feeling loss. Plain and simple. And with loss comes sadness.

So, I am giving myself time to be selfish and feel like how could he abandon me in my golden years. Then I will pick up the phone and continue my search for his replacement.  To which I am confident I will find. This new doctor will be accepting me as a patient who brings with her multiple inflammatory conditions including an attitude that you better measure up, you got big boots to fill!

Dr. Pow; thank you for being the primary caregiver of our family for decades.  May the hope, the light and the confidence your support gave us be felt in your heart as you travel your new path.