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“Yep. They’ve been married over fifty years and have twelve grandchildren. Christopher was an art collector, and Christina was his curator for many years before they retired.”
She stayed quiet, probably once again thinking it was stupid for me to know all of these personal details about my patients. We arrived early to see Christopher outside watering his plants. Although the man was worth millions, he loved to get his hands dirty in his flower beds. For a larger man, he was impressively active.
“Nice to see you, Dr. Lucas. Who do we have here?” He adjusted his glasses before toweling off his hands on a rag.
“Christopher, this is Dr. Brooke Morrison. She’s shadowing me today before filling in for Dr. Fitzpatrick over the next few weeks.”
“Ah, nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but I’m afraid mine are dirty. Hope Dr. Meredith is doing all right. She delivered my last two grandchildren,” he told Brooke.
“She’s doing fine, just taking it easy for the next few weeks before she gives birth to a little boy.”
“Nothing better than babies, is there? Let me take you inside. My lovely bride is in the kitchen if you want to go straight through. Meanwhile, I’ll get cleaned up.”
Christina was in the beautifully modern kitchen, a flowered apron around her hips and her long gray hair braided down her back. Laid out on the counter was a full breakfast consisting of pancakes, fruit, and turkey bacon. “Just in time,” she exclaimed, smiling at the both of us. “Oh, good, you brought company.”
I wasn’t at all surprised she’d cooked a full breakfast, but it was clear my companion was taken aback. She stood in shock, her gaze fixated on the spread laid out for us.
I quickly made the introductions and whispered to her. “You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to.”
“Are you kidding me? This is incredible.” She didn’t hesitate to take a plate and dish up.
We sat at the kitchen table catching up for a few minutes before I started asking my medically focused questions. I’d learned years ago there were no secrets between the two of them, making the checkups easier. “Thanks for doing your bloodwork last week. Got the results, and everything looks good. Christopher, your cholesterol went down by ten points.”
He chuckled. “Good thing, because I’m now eating bacon made from a bird. Who would’ve ever thought of something like turkey bacon?”
We went on for a few more minutes discussing their health until breakfast was done and the plates cleared. I then took their vitals and ensured their prescriptions were up to date.
“Here you go, Doc. For the road.” Christina handed me a Tupperware dish. “They’re homemade scones.”
“Thank you. You two take care on your trip and call me if you need anything. Otherwise, I look forward to seeing you next year.” Here was a couple I hoped would both live to be a hundred.
On the way out, Brooke stopped in the hallway.
“Are these Jackson Pollock paintings?” She eyed the abstract art with appreciation.
Christopher grinned from ear to ear while his wife answered. “They are, my dear. Do you like art?”
“I love it. In fact my mother had a Willem de Kooning painting in her office.”
I had no idea who she spoke of, but Chris sure did. “How lovely. I have one of his pieces, as well. Come, I’ll show you.”
After listening to them discuss art, I realized Brooke had grown up with money and a healthy appreciation of the finer things. Made sense considering the lavish wedding her parents had put on for her sister. One more reason she wouldn’t be compatible with Tim the outdoorsy, live-simply guy.
We finished up the appointment, said goodbye to Chris and Chris, and were in my SUV pulling out of the driveway when she broke the silence. “That was fun.”
I bristled. She sounded as though we’d come here for a nice breakfast instead of for true patient care. “It’s a legitimate medical appointment.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I never said it wasn’t.”
She hadn’t needed to. “I know what you’re thinking.” The breakfast, the information about my patients’ dogs’ names and how many grandchildren they had. I’d heard the criticism before about how I was too invested and too personal with my patients.
Brooke pursed her full lips. “Okay. What am I thinking?”
“That this type of patient care from a doctor is over the top. That the personal touch of home visits like this one complete with breakfast wastes time. The appointment could be accomplished in half the time at the office with nurses doing the vitals and tests and me swooping in for a seven-minute exam.”
I hated to sound vulnerable to all the criticisms my fellow doctors had made regarding my choices, but I couldn’t stand it if she judged me too.
