Every neurologist is different. Mine too. That ‘mine’ is important by the way. Because I tend to use the possessive when everything’s going well. Strangely enough, whenever he needs to tell me an uncomfortable truth, I automatically switch to ‘the’ and start saying things like ‘the neurologist has observed this, that and the other.’ That ‘the’ creates slightly more distance.
My neurologist would never say that I have a special little gait, not a Putinesque, Russian, KGB-like or any other type of special little gait.
I cannot imagine any neurologist classifying my gait as a weird walk.
And I would never dream of classifying a neurologist in this way either. Even though I’m sure I could come up with plenty of doctor related ‘gait’ gems of my own, such as that special little file gait, telescope gait, no wait, scrap that one, that’s reserved for more ‘highbrow’ doctors, I mean stethoscope gait or doctor’s consultation-waiting-consultation-room gait, or a my-surgery-is-too-full gait.
You want someone who’s out there fighting for one-on-one patient care, not someone who’s consigning us to stereotypical little gaits.
It hurts to hear my disability being called a Weird Walk. They say love shouldn’t hurt, well, care shouldn’t hurt either.
It’s basically what is says in the Hippocratic oath. To care for the patient.