I played my violin today. It's an old but not a rare or expensive instrument that I keep in my office. I don't have to play it; my violin plays itself. Just the sight of the violin brings the music to my mind.
Mrs. Goldstein heard it. She sat wide-eyed across my desk, her daughter at her side, glancing constantly at the surroundings. She was 101 and frail, but refused to allow any gray hair on her head to date her -- and she loved my office. She told me that she had seen a lot of doctors but had never seen an office "like this one."
She had been sent to me by her geriatrician for an evaluation of shortness of breath. She stopped as she entered my consultation room and saw the violin resting against the wall, then asked if I played. I told her that I did not, but that I loved to listen, that just looking at the violin made me feel as if I were attending a concert of my favorite concerto.
She told me that she loved classical music. "I'll try to imagine I am listening to Mozart," she said as the consultation began.
In my office, I also have a mandolin, several pieces of American folk art and a number of prints on the walls. I keep bestselling books that I have read and enjoyed on my shelves, instead of the huge medical tomes you find in most doctors' offices.
These things are there for a reason. The doctor's office is a stressful place. Patients often approach a medical appointment fearing the worst and believing that they have cancer or another terminal illness. This high level of stress preoccupies the individual so that information and instructions that are given are often not retained.
If I can get my patients to relax, they will hear and learn more about their health.
One time, a book editor with emphysema and lung cancer who had been sent to me by his internist had one eye on my bookshelf the whole time we talked. I had several works there by Philip Roth, one of my favorite authors, including "Everyman," which had just been released.
In the middle of the interview, my patient stopped and asked me if I recommended the books I displayed. We spent the next few minutes talking about Roth and whether he would win the Nobel Prize. I had the sense, when we finished, that the editor now approved his physician's choice of consultant, and that he felt more relaxed about finding out more about his condition.
