Assimilation

It's a funny thing living in a small town. The first month I was here, I walked around wondering if people looked at me as the new foreigner in town. The second month I was here, I walked around town almost hoping no one would recognize me. Now in the third month, there's no doubting that I will be recognized. The reality of this hit home a few weekends ago when I was shopping in the center of town and I heard someone say, "Hi, Doc." Being a third generation physician in my family, I often don't pay attention when someone recognizes a doctor, always assuming they're talking to my father. This time, I looked up and saw one of my patients. There was no denying this person was talking to me. A few blocks later the same thing happened again. I knew at that moment I was now a part of this community.

This became ever more apparent this past Thursday when the clinic decided to go out for dinner. The idea was local pub food, then karaoke at the White Hart Hotel. Now if this sounds a little shady, you would be correct. I went along begrudgingly. A quick look up at the performer, a patient of mine. A glance around the room realized that half the patrons were patients of mine. I sat in the corner hoping no one would recognize me. My attempts failed. All too soon I felt an arm around my shoulder. I looked back and a woman exclaimed, "It's great to see my doctor off call and relaxing." No doubt, I was truly a part of this community.