It's Hard to Say Goodbye Part 2

Jim, a patient, said, "goodbyes are not for you, they are for everyone else."

After the goodbyes with the team (Part 1 of my first blog series), it's time to say goodbye to my patients. I wrote a letter to them, sharing what they meant to me and that it was time for me to say farewell. I braced for the reaction that was to come in the weeks and months to follow. What I experienced since is a journey of learning the good in people, allowing others to love me, and not underestimating the impact a relationship a dentist, or anyone in healthcare that truly wanted to connect, could have with their patients.

The familiar hallway where patients come and go

Having had no experience with such departures, I did not know what to expect. Naturally, I expected the worst, which was that patients would be angry, or at best, they wouldn't care enough to say much. Instead, I was greeted with waves of appreciation, words of wisdom, shared memories, laughter, tears, and well wishes for my future. Each week, as I worked my three days, the waves came like those of the ocean, one after another, some stronger than the next. All of them crashed into the walls of my heart like the waves do onto the ocean shores. Some of the emotions swirled around, like the foamy waters do around the rocks of a Hawaiian shoreline before they return out to sea. At first, I fought it because I was not prepared to receive, but like the surfers who ride the waves, I learned to ride the emotions, letting them carry me back to shore (or is it home?).

There were weeks when, by the end of my third day, I would sit on my couch in the evening with my husband Tony and just cry. The tears felt like a backed-up dam that finally got released because I couldn't very well just start crying multiple times an hour during the day. So I took it all home, and my patient husband and dogs got to witness all of the ugly cries of joy, love, and grief. I knew the very next week would be similar, but I was ready again to be brave and receptive, to let the waves swirl and bring me home again.

I am truly humbled by my patients, many of whom have been vulnerable with me as they allow me to treat them over the years, many with dental anxiety. These patients, who have become accustomed to me and my team, shed their fear of the dentist, even if just a little, and share their happiness for my decision but also their concern and sadness that I will no longer be caring for them. I hope that I was able to bring my fearful patients a little closer to normalcy at the dentist, even if it's a tiny step, and that their journey with the next dentist will continue in the same trajectory. My decision to leave my practice, to say goodbye, was delayed due to concern. Concern that I would leave people who needed me, who became comfortable with me, who chose me to be their dentist despite their fears of the dental industry as a whole.

And as they sit cacooned in the tan dental chair, saying their goodbyes, I find my concern replaced with inspiration. That despite their fear, they still saw a dentist, to have kept looking for the one they felt most comfortable with, one that their body said, "yes, it's scary, but she'll take care of you." And as I embark on a journey of my own, that I too should trust my inner compass to guide me where it's safe even if it's scary at first.

To all of my colleagues: the dentists, physicians, assistants, hygienists, nurses, techs, receptionists and everyone else that touch the lives of patients, be kind to yourself and those who you care for. Sometimes it may feel like the same sh*t, just a different day, but the kindness we show ourselves, to allow ourselves to open up to our patients, make us all meet at a human level. And one day, when you least expect it, they will in turn lift you up and inspire you.

So are goodbyes for others? Maybe, this time at least, the goodbyes were for me too. I just had to be open to them.