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Family Doctor - Donna Doyle
Family Doctor - Donna Doyle
Family Doctor Years later his fragrance found me, cornered in a crowded elevator. Floor after floor, scent climbed, not musty tweeds hanging loose in my great-grandfathers closet, or thick tobacco smoke lathered on my grandfathers stubbled chin. Not even the milky Old Spice bottle or emerald Brut shelved shining side by side in my fathers medicine cabinet, but some aroma subtle as soap clinging in steamed air soon after a shower. Still, my search leads me to fondle, inhale clustered department store bottles, when left barely dressed in exam rooms, to lean and breathe air near the soap dispenser. Such is the posture of my desire bowed toward finding the man who lightly touched me, who listened to my heart and lungs, and always ever after, left me better than before.
Donna Doyle
George T. O'Connor, MD
July 18, 2012 2 to 3 PM ET
Discuss the article's implications for clinical practice with the authors at the next teleconference
Author Affiliation: Preston Medical Library, University of Tennessee Graduate School of Medicine, Knoxville (djdoyle@utmck.edu). Poetry and Medicine Section Editor: Charlene Breedlove, Associate Editor. Poems may be submitted to jamapoems@jama-archives.org. JAMA, June 20, 2012Vol 307, No. 23 2467