Doctor Burkholder
Family doctor and pediatrician. Not just for us, but also, at least for a while, for my aunts and cousins as well. I don’t remember her during my illness.
This memory was before my days in Tijuana.
I was seven years old. I woke up in the middle of the night and heard Dr. Burkholder's voice. The door to my parents' bedroom was slightly ajar. My mom had just had or was having a miscarriage.
This was probably not something for me to watch, but I did.
After a bit of commotion, and emotion, my parents had settled down and were talking. The doctor came and sat down at the foot of the bed at the corner nearest to me. She was only 3 feet away from me. She held one of those kidney shaped stainless steel medical bowls. More curious than frightened I watched her as she was examining the fetus. It was small but already formed. They hadn’t told me that my mom was pregnant. I did think I shouldn't have been looking.
Many decades later I told my dad about this, and he said, Why didn't you tell us?
What was there to tell?
Someone was coming to the bedroom door. From my room I listened to my dad and the doctor talking in the hallway. Then she went back in and talked to my mom for a bit. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I heard their voices. The doctor took a few minutes to pack up, and then she left. I assume my mom went to sleep. I listened to my dad for a long while he was in the kitchen, then the living room. After a while I went back to bed.
The next morning, my dad didn't go to work, he fixed me breakfast and walked me to school.
Dr. Evelyn Burkholder looked like the Quaker Oats man. She had full, warm, comforting hands. She had an intense manner. I could see how she made some people feel intimidated. She made me feel secure.
Her office was in a 40s vintage tract house in Monterey Park, or MP adjacent. She may have lived next door to her office.
The last time I went in to see her was soon after my Europe trip. She wanted to hear all about the trip while she was examining me, and asking about how I was taking care of my own health.
Then, in my 20s, I thought I was immortal, and I was certain a positive attitude was the answer to all ills.
I didn’t see a doctor again until my health failed at 33.