I understand the idea of overworked and underpaid.
I understand cranky.
I understand being bombarded with ceaseless questions.
I understand having questions and wishing someone would answer them.
I understand bad hair days.
I understand the desire to be outside playing in warm weather over being inside working.
I understand hoping someone will sit down and truly listen to my fears.
But what I will never, never, ever understand is a doctor yelling at my sweet 80-year-old mother who is sick with a bad chest cold and telling her that her time is up before abruptly walking out of the exam room.
Why does God create these people?
I hope this callous, indifferent doctor never has to experience the insulting shock of hearing, “I don’t care.”I hope there's a special place in hell for doctors like this.