I knock on the door. They are at home, I just called them, but they are slow to respond. I knock again, harder this time, the tempo faster, more urgent.
The door opens slowly, tentative at first, then a little broader. I am not a surprise visitor, but I am unexpected and therefore a puzzle.
“I’m the doctor. I called a few minutes ago.” I raise my identification badge higher so she can see it; her eyes flicker back and forth between the picture and my face. “It's an old picture. I had more hair then,” I say, trying to take the edge off the situation.
Burns R. Rubbing Against the Late Day. JAMA. 2010;303(24):2449-2450. doi:10.1001/jama.2010.802