“Doctor, he cannot be moved. Could you arrange to see him at home?” Admittedly, a request like that is almost never exactly welcome at first blush. Sometimes, you know such an appointment can be managed from a distance (if the patient’s problem isn’t serious). More often, you worry about practical difficulties (how to find the home—now much easier since the advent of GPS; whether there will be a convenient parking space; how much can you do without your usual office facilities; and, most importantly, how you’re going to carve out the necessary time—several multiples of a routine office visit—from your

The loneliest existence I have ever encountered was a hospital room that briefly held an elderly man.

At report, there were no significant signs suggesting his inevitable outcome. I began my first rounds as I had done thousands of nights before. I checked on him and introduced myself. His response was lackadaisical, perhaps even whimsical. Nothing stood out. No red flags caught my attention.

I’ve been working for over five years in home-based primary care division of geriatrics. As a physician assistant (PA), I don’t have to stay in one specialty for my whole career. Many PA friends from graduate school have transitioned between fields: cardiology, bone marrow transplant, neuro ICU, critical care, OB-GYN, dermatology, oncology, and so on. Why haven’t I switched to something more glamorous or exciting? The answer is almost impossible to capture in words, but I’ll give it a try…

Maan was born on my daughter’s sixth birthday, after an uncomplicated pregnancy. Husband, both grandmothers (sisters to each other), all from Southern India, were present and supportive. The birth was greeted with great joy, but within an hour, that joy was marred by a sudden seizure. I called in my pediatric colleagues, and we transferred the infant to the tertiary care center an hour up the road.

When most people hear the term “house call,” I’m sure the picture in their mind is of a black-bag-toting physician tending to a patient in the patient’s own home.

But when I hear the term “house call,” the picture in my mind is of a time, 49 years ago, when my family physician tended to me at his home.

I used to tell myself that my work in health communications was about more than earning a paycheck or typing words on a page. Yes, I didn’t provide clinical care, but didn’t I make a small contribution, too?

When I left home for medical training, I knew distance would be hard, but I didn’t understand how distance could change time itself. As a medical student, my schedule is packed tight, and traveling home has become a kind of emotional arithmetic: three visits a year, maybe four if I’m lucky, each only a handful of days. Somewhere along the way, my time with my mother stopped being measured in years and became measured in holidays, long weekends and whatever small windows my training allows.