Primary Health Care

There, lodged securely in memory
the visage of a dapper, concerned
and invariably white-coated man
who was our family doctor for over
forty years of his life and ours.
Meticulous, busy, empathetic and
involved, we wondered how much
of his valuable time his own family
received in his dedicated profession.

A white wisp of how he first appeared
all those years ago, wearying life
finally retired him from proactive
duty to his vast community of
private-practise patients. Now, our
family doctor is a practitioner within
a group medical practise, operating
out of a vast building called a "big box"
supermarket, alongside an optometrist,
passport studio portraitist, wine shop,
florist, pharmacy and dental office.

While the doctors on staff are casually
garbed, minus white coat, mine presents
in a low-cut dress that emphasizes her
elegant form, and none have festooned
themselves with the once-symbolic
stethoscope. When my physician is
absent on maternity leave, other, older
doctors fill in, assessing the state of
patients' health, renewing prescriptions.

A phalanx of medical support staff,
receptionists accepting health cards
and inputting data in their computers,
scheduling follow-up appointments,
sending out blood tests to laboratories,
and nurses administering vaccines, while
nutritionist/dietitians prescribe best
eating practises in service to the new
paradigm in supermarket health care.