I did something nice for a fellow doctor. He’s a family practice physician who has given up all of his hospital priviledges. Dr. M chooses to focus on his outpatient practice until an admission comes along. Our hospitalist service usually covers his adult admissions, but when he has a rare pediatric admission, he turns to me. My partners are not keen on the extra work, but I believe in pay it forward.
Did I say I didn’t grumble? I did. About all the questions the family had for me. About the child’s slower than normal recovery. About the armchair quarterbacking from the Dr. M. Yes. I did moan. Some.
So the awesome thank-you basket from my favorite bakery kind of brought tears of humility to my eyes. He didn’t have to do that, but it was darn nice that he did.
I wasn’t sure what to do next. Do I thank him for the appreciation? My Southern upbringing has gotten a little carried away with the rules and regulations of acknowledging generosity. When my first son came along, I was still writing the customary thank yous for china and candlesticks from my wedding. Six months had elapsed between the two events (do the math – I got pregnant after the engagement and before the wedding). My hormone addled brain finally got them all finished when Eldest’s first birthday rolled around.
Now with a public persona – albeit small town public persona – the rules of society drop off and leave me hanging. I’m never sure if I need to recognize every flower, fruit basket and meal that I receive. If these gifts are given in appreciation, do I need to thank the thanker? In an ideal world, I would love to jot a short note on my personal stationary to all who support me.
