Meeting a doctor in the street

My wife and I were in Manchester today, and we’d done a bit of shopping then went to the Art Gallery neat St Peter’s square. Anyhow, we suddenly spotted a doctor that I had seen many months ago (on Christmas Eve, 2008 to be precise). She was the endocrinologist (Dr S.R) that went through my notes and told me what the radiologist had written about the MRI scan of my pituitary tumour, and through the other tests I had.

Back to the story! Suddenly, a bout of “What is the etiquette of bumping into a doctor on the street?“. I wasn’t sure if it was exactly fair for a patient to jump out in front of a doctor! Anyhow, I said hello and thankfully she stopped, and her face lit up. Phew. “Do you remember me, you know, acromegaly and all that?” I asked, hoping she’d remember. After all, it was six months later and she’d probably seen whole busloads of people since me. “Yes, of course I remember you, I was only asking about you to Prof [P.T.] at Christies about you yesterday” she replied. She was there with her husband, who had no doubt been dragged around the shops and art galleries like I had like a good dutiful husband.

Anyhow we talked about my treatment, and how she was going through the slog writing-up research on a drug used for acromegaly. She asked my wife how she was doing too, which was great. My wife thanked her for discussing Christies as one of the “centres of excellence” for my treatment.

It really cheered my wife and I up. What a great doctor she is!

I still don’t know the etiquette of what you should do when you spot one of your doctors on the street. I know what I’d do now though. (I can just see all the medical staff that I deal with going out wearing disguises from now on.)