May I Come In?

"May I come in?" I hear him outside of the door. Is he asking me or another patient?
"Mary, I like your hair. You look great and I will see you in 3 weeks." He sounds cheerful and happy. He is right there and his voice is very familiar to me.
I am looking at myself in a mirror. Do I like my hair? Do I look good? Will my hair grow back by next follow up visit? I am very anxious to hear any compliments and I believe in positive visit. You just want to invite good news into your life and you reserve your room just for the very good news. There's a very light and not too confident knock on the door. Who is at the door? Do they know who is the room? I took this brave walk from the entrance door to the first available room by looking down at the tile representing the walkway, in case you are confused or not sure if this is you the right way you chose. But your steady walk brings you into this room. I am not willing to let anyone in unless they feel my courage and motivation. The door opens and the familiar face of my doctor surprisingly welcomes me back. Something is making the moment of his presence harder than the last time. I start thinking that I don't like this doctor, especially when he sits on his exam chair, leaning backwards and talks about your high percentage of developing new tumors and low percentage of survival if I don't continue my treatment. He is ready to exam me and I feel his hand on my back, fingers extended. I feel the fear of cancer throughout his heavy breathing. I was ready to open the door for him and tell him that I am not interested in whatever he is going to say anymore. But this isn't good. He is your oncologist and maybe, he has no idea what he is talking about. Maybe I should find another one. And you want him to leave this room, but with a smile. Weeks go by and you realize that he is the one and exactly what you want.