The Healthcare Provider That “Gets” You

There’s something quietly exhausting about telling your story over and over again — only to be met with blank stares, a rush to order a million tests, or another prescription shoved across the counter.

I know that journey. We’ve lived it.

When you’re dealing with a serious, ongoing, or life-limiting health issue, you don’t need someone who’s just checking boxes or following a flowchart. You need someone who gets you — the real you — not just the patient sitting in front of them.

We struggled with other primary care providers telling us that prescription refills couldn’t really be done until after a certain test was completed.
Wait — you’re not going to refill the prescription until my love is subjected to ANOTHER horrible (usually) test, or scan, or whatever you feel like ordering?
It was like being held hostage, over and over again, with no true understanding of the physical, emotional, or mental toll it all took.

We didn’t need more hoops to jump through.
We needed a partner in our journey.

And we found our someone.
Her name is Dr. Swifty. Ok, so not really her name, but you’ll get the picture.

Long blonde hair, sweeping eyelashes, and the kind of presence that feels more like a conversation with an old friend than a clinical consultation.

We knew right away she was different.
We couldn’t help but notice the certificates hanging proudly on her wall — one from Baylor and one from Texas A&M. Naturally, my husband, always the one to find the humor in the little things, asked, “Who do you root for?”
She laughed, gave a quick wink, and said, “Well, I'm more of a Baylor fan and my husband is a Texas A&M fan ... but we make it work!”

In just a few minutes, she broke the ice, made us smile, and made us feel seen — not just as patients, but as people.

And her perspective mirrored ours in the most refreshing way.
She said it out loud — the thing we had been thinking and feeling for years:
"Why do more testing that we've probably already done at some point over this ten-year journey, only to get either nothing or not enough information to make a real difference?"
It wasn’t about giving up. It was about being practical. About recognizing that endless tests weren’t going to give us more life — they were going to take away from the life we had left to live.

Then came the question that truly stopped us in our tracks:

"What would you like from me?"

It wasn’t a canned speech. It wasn’t a veiled attempt to guide us toward more treatments, more interventions, more "fixing." It was a sincere, quiet invitation to be heard.

And we took a deep breath and told her the truth.

"Will you just let me die when the time comes? I don’t want a bunch of invasive or lifesaving stuff."

Without missing a beat, she replied:

"Absolutely. I will do for you whatever you want. We'll get through this, together."

That was it.
No judgment.
No interrogation about why we would choose comfort over chaos.
No guilt trip about "giving up."

Just understanding.
Just respect.
Just humanity.

I can't even describe the tidal wave of relief that swept over us. Years of pushing against the system, feeling like we had to justify every choice, melted away in that one moment of pure connection.

Because here’s the truth most people don’t talk about:
There’s a sacred balance between living and quality of life.
Sometimes, doing everything possible isn’t the kindest thing.

“Sometimes, honoring dignity and wishes matters more than another procedure or another drug.”

Finding a healthcare provider who sees that — who sees you — is one of the most important gifts you can give yourself or your loved ones.

And it doesn’t end at the office door.

Dr. Swifty is now on my text speed dial — literally at my fingertips, ready to help whenever we need her. (Even if, as boomers, texting with our thumbs is still a bit of an adventure!)
Knowing that she’s just a message away has added another layer of comfort that I didn’t even realize we were missing.

We’ve “run into” her and her family at Costco. I watched her watch my husband meander around the meat cases, looking for the perfect package of steaks. We later discussed her need to see him get through regular daily activity, noting it later for discussion. It made my heart smile that she took a few minutes to watch is gait, interaction, etc.

Don’t settle.

Don’t settle for the ones who just nod along.
Don’t settle for the ones who pile on more pills or endless labs without really asking what you want.
Don’t settle for feeling unheard, unseen, or like just another case file.

Find your Dr. Swifty.
Find the one who sits down, looks you in the eye, listens to every feeling and every word, and walks with you instead of trying to drag you somewhere you don’t want to go.

You deserve that kind of care.
We all do.

And when you find it...you'll feel it.
It’s a sigh of relief you didn't even know you were holding in.
It’s home.