The Doctor's Substitute

The Doctor's Substitute

My father's doctor knew his place well. He diagnosed my father's problem but then explained that he was not the right person to recommend proper treatment. He named a professor who was tops in the particular field my father needed, and he gave us his secretary's number.

I innocently assumed we would call the secretary and book an appointment with the famed professor. But it wasn't all that simple.

"The professor doesn't see new patients at all," the secretary told me abruptly when I called.

"So what do you recommend I do?" I asked pleadingly. "My father needs help. He's really not well."

"I'll book you an appointment," the secretary said reassuringly, "with Doctor Stein." He said "Dr. Stein" as though everyone knew exactly who he meant, and so I was embarrassed to ask - but I asked anyway, "Who is Dr. Stein?!"

"Why, he's the professor's right hand."

"I want to see the professor himself," I insisted.

"Impossible," he rejoined. "The professor doesn't see new patients," he repeated like a broken record.

I realized there was no point in arguing the matter further. I made an appointment to see Dr. Stein, and I ended the call.

Several days later, it was time for my father's appointment. I davened to Hashem that Dr. Stein, the second-in-command to the famed professor, would be a good shaliach to help my father. In my heart, I had misgivings about the fact that we wouldn't receive advice from the professor himself. I wondered whether I was fulfilling my duty of kibud av, but what else could I do?

When we were on the way to the clinic, I got a call from the secretary.

"Unfortunately," he said, "Dr. Stein will not be able to make it today, and another doctor will take his place."

This was too much for me. Who would be the substitute for the doctor I already considered a substitute for another, better doctor?! How bedieved could this whole situation be?! I was too upset to even talk, and I ended the call, not even telling my father, so as not to upset him.

We arrived at the clinic, and I went up to the secretary to take care of the paperwork.

"You can go in now and see Dr. so-and-so," he said, mentioning a name that was all too familiar. It was not a typical last name, and it was the name of the famed professor we'd originally wanted to see.

Seeing the startled look on my face, the secretary explained, "The professor is filling in for Dr. Stein today because at the last minute, he couldn't make it."

I was thrilled. My father and I entered the room, and after carefully reading through my father's file, the professor recommended a precise course of treatment. Chasdei Hashem, the treatment was effective. I couldn't help but think that Dr. Stein's sudden disappearance