I started volunteering at the Hayes Clinic on a Tuesday in March. Dr. Hayes — everyone calls him Dr. H — took one look at me and said, "You're the new one. Good. I need someone to file the charts."
That was six months ago. Dr. H is sixty-two, soft-spoken, and has the kind of hands that make you believe in medicine. He sees thirty patients a day — sometimes forty, if someone is desperate. He remembers their names, their children's names, the names of their dogs. He hums old standards while he works — Bill Evans, Chet Baker, sometimes an old standard he only half-remembers. There is a...
0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews