This week I am grateful for a squillion things.
But the one echo of this busy week is that I should be most grateful to our family GP.
Based in a practice, in a suburb a long way from where we now live, we have been seeing him, on and off, for over eleven years. (I sense that it is credit to him and his empathy that we still choose to attend this practice, despite its inconvenience?)
From upset tummies to smoking cessation to weight loss to depression, we have visited Dr Chris.
For unexplained infertility through to eventual antenatal care for babies, we have visited Dr Chris.
For septic arthritis in Olivia, to a hundred appointments for Charlie and his dodgy ears, as well as all the usual vaccinations and immunisations, we have called upon Dr Chris.
He has, quite literally, saved life and limb for us.
So today I am grateful to family general practitioners. To the ones who really care for families, who build a relationship, who work long hours, who are underfunded by medicare, who make house calls, who know their patients. To the ones that really give a shit, I thank you.
And particularly those GP's who know and sense that the last question a mother asks as she leaves the surgery is often the real problem - I am grateful, so grateful to you.
Do you have a good GP? Or do you struggle with an impersonal medical centre?