Doc

He was white-haired and bent over with a toothy grin. His shirt had food stains. His hands were large and soft as he welcomed me inside his house. After his wife died, doc quit his internal medicine practice due to involutional melancholia (depression). I heard he was an excellent, caring physician, whose patients loved him. He often undercharged some of his poorer patients. I was his companion for the summer.

Doc lived in a Victorian house painted white and black. It had a big porch and looked out on a river. Inside it was dark, musty, but comfortable.

He liked to play gin rummy, which occupied several hours of our time together each day. His housekeeper Elizabeth was ugly, spiteful and possessive. She took an immediate disliking to me. Every day, she served him the same kind of sandwich cut into four pieces. She had an African Grey parrot named Pedro, who was uncanny-if he heard your voice once, he was very close at imitating it. If he heard your voice twice, he had you down-except his pitch was higher. Elizabeth would talk to him and a "mini me" Elizabeth would say "Pedro is a pretty boy."

After I arrived, Elizabeth saw no need to wash Doc's clothes. I believe she was testing me to see if I would do it, so I did.

One day, I decided doc would benefit from a ride to the beach. It was a sunny day and we ate hot dogs on a bench near the sand. One of doc's former patients saw him and came over. She told him what a great doctor he was and how much she missed going to him. I could see his smile and knew this therapy was better than any medication he was taking.

At the end of the summer, I told doc's brother, a prominent lawyer, that I believed doc's condition would never improve, while Elizabeth was around. The brother became agitated and did not want to hear my evaluation, because Doc was used to her and comfortable having her around.

I went back to medical school; six months later, my dad told me "you'll never guess what happened-Elizabeth had a stroke and is totally incapacitated." As I predicted, doc started to thrive now that he was free of the Khamer Rouge's repressive regimen. Doc's mood improved to the point where he went out dancing, met someone and remarried. He was a new man.

God works in mysterious ways, but everything works out.