Making Rounds and Oscar (2010) Read Online Free PDF Page B

care for older patients and give them the time they deserve. Her own mother was a patient in our clinic.
    I grabbed the next chart and took a moment to look over some paperwork from another local doctor before I knocked on the door. The well-dressed couple I found did not look pleased. The man held up his watch and tapped it several times with his finger.
    "You know, Dr. Dosa, our appointment was for 2:15 pm. You are twenty minutes late."
    "Mr. and Mrs. Rubenstein, I'm so sorry to keep you. Please accept my apology."
    Going to the doctor is not like getting your shoes shined and, unfortunately, there are times when other patients need my attention for longer than I anticipated. But I've learned over the years that explanations only make things worse. Simple apologies work better. Not in this case, though.
    Frank Rubenstein was insulted, not on his behalf, I soon realized, but on his wife's. He was a gentleman of the old school, and rather old world, at that. I recognized his Eastern European accent as being not so distant from that of my own parents, and I thought I recognized the attitude too.
    Concern takes many forms, I've come to learn as a doctor, and it's easier to recognize when it comes as a purr than a growl. Frank was like a papa lion protecting his lioness from predators, real or imagined. I posed no threat to his wife--I was simply there in front of them at the wrong time. What was really stalking her came from within.
    Ruth Rubenstein, who was sitting across from him, seemed mildly embarrassed.
    "Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry for my husband's brutish behavior. I'm sure you have lots of other patients to attend to. Frank just doesn't like coming to the doctor's office."
    She flashed me a disarming smile and then turned quickly to glare at her husband. He got the message; they'd been together long enough. As Ruth stared down her husband, I took a moment to look her over. She was neatly dressed in a long skirt and white blouse. She was strikingly attractive with blue-green eyes that radiated warmth. Her long silver hair was arresting, pulled back behind her ears with what looked to be an expensive pearl hairpin. Her skin still had a youthful vigor, and my first thought was that this woman still had it together.
    I offered her my hand. She grasped it firmly and I was overpowered by her perfume.
    My heart sank.
    I moved in closer and confirmed my initial suspicion. Beneath the scent of her cologne I recognized the unmistakable musty odor of urine, a sign of incontinence.
    I introduced myself again and asked how I could help them. Mr. Rubenstein launched into an explanation.
    "Doctor, as you've probably figured, neither of us particularly want to be here, but I'm concerned about my wife's health."
    He looked down at the floor, collecting his thoughts.
    "I'm concerned..." His voice trailed off as if he was searching for a delicate way of telling me about his wife's problem.
    "Go on," I said, nodding. He looked back at me, having found his voice.
    "My wife has started to do some strange things. She loses things. The other day, she couldn't find her keys. She blamed me. Eventually I found them in the refrigerator with the groceries she had just brought home. She's also gotten lost a couple of times coming back from the grocery store. One time she called me and she was halfway across town."
    He looked over at Mrs. Rubenstein, who acted as if we were talking about someone else. She just stared at the cover of the magazine in her lap.
    Frank continued. He was likely the same age as his wife, although he appeared significantly older. He was dressed in a vintage suit, circa 1970. No doubt he was the original owner. His hairline had receded and whatever hair remained was uncombed. As he told me more stories about Ruth's memory lapses--the day she forgot to meet him for coffee or the morning she put the milk in the cupboard--I looked back over at Ruth. Now she was attending to his words, and if looks could kill, he was the one who