Dani Garavelli: I'm sick of distant doctors

Kerr is a GP who forged a genuine connection with the community he serves

THERE was something poignant about the moment Dr Iain Kerr emerged from a meeting with his health board employers to tell supporters he was not to be sacked for supplying sleeping pills to suicidal patients. As the 50-strong crowd cheered and the Glasgow GP's eyes brimmed over, I felt a surge of warmth for the gaunt figure that had nothing to do with my stance on euthanasia.

For a while, I couldn't put my finger on what it was about this scene that moved me. Particularly since, right up until that moment, I had seen Dr Kerr's decision to provide sodium amytal tablets to an 87-year-old osteoporosis sufferer and four other patients so they could end their lives at a later date as rash and misguided. After all, even the most passionate advocates of voluntary euthanasia agree there needs to be a framework to ensure those who seek assisted suicide are doing so because their condition has deteriorated to such a degree they believe their lives are not worth living, rather than in response to external pressures.

Why, then, did I feel such sympathy with the GP's supporters as they celebrated the news they were not about to lose him permanently from Williamwood Medical Centre in Glasgow? It was, I think, because you could see that their affection for him was both sincere and reciprocated. Those middle-class, banner-waving men and women who stood waiting to hear the result of the NHS Greater Glasgow and Clyde meeting were not on a moral or political crusade; they were simply there to defend a man whose judgment and dedication they had come to respect.

To inspire such patient loyalty at a time when figures of authority tend to be treated with suspicion is impressive. Intrigued, I went back to read some of the many letters of support sent in to newspapers and posted online. "Dr Kerr looked after my mum who was very ill for many years," said Lorraine Rose. "He always showed compassion and was always very professional in everything he did."

Hospital consultant John Sinclair said: "Exceptionally, (Kerr] went out of his way to keep regular contact with staff concerning his patients and my many conversations with him demonstrated how much time and thought he put into ensuring his patients got the best possible care."

Dr Kerr is that apparently rare commodity: a city GP who views medicine as a vocation and has forged a genuine connection with the community he serves. His commitment to the ongoing welfare of patients is all the more remarkable when juxtaposed with the erratic and detached care offered by many urban surgeries; his willingness to work extra hours to accommodate their needs a welcome antidote to many others' inflexibility.

For most of us, the prospect of forming an enduring relationship with a single GP is as distant as encountering a taxi driver who can negotiate the streets without the aid of a sat-nav. Instead, as practices have got bigger, and more GPs have secured part-time contracts, we have reconciled ourselves to the protracted interrogation process required to secure an appointment and the sure knowledge that any information we divulge about our personal circumstances is a waste of breath because next time round we'll be seeing someone different.

In England and Wales the Government now wants to make medical care even more distant with the introduction of polyclinics – massive centres which house other health experts, such as physiotherapists, alongside GPs, although critics insist this would make access to a doctor even more difficult and undermine the concept of holistic care. In Scotland this idea has already been rejected, but the rancour expressed in the row over extending surgery opening hours demonstrated just how fractured the relationship between doctors and patients has become.

There are those who say this hankering after a traditional patient-doctor relationship is anachronistic. If we go to our surgery suffering from tonsillitis, it is not necessary for the GP who treats us to know our life stories, just so long as he or she assesses our symptoms and treats them accordingly.

But what of those who see a succession of doctors for a series of minor and apparently unrelated symptoms which are in fact connected? Isn't there a danger the underlying condition will go undiagnosed? What about elderly people with chronic conditions who get distressed by having to explain their symptoms over and over again? Or those who go with one complaint, but really want to talk about something they find embarrassing. Isn't a personal relationship – with mutual trust and understanding – of benefit to them?

In the 11 years since I had my first child, I have seen dozens of doctors and, for the most part, it hasn't really been a problem. But there have been a couple of occasions when I believe the sheer volume of patients being processed and the lack of any sustained connection has affected the quality of care: once when my eldest was suffering from a baffling array of food allergies; and again when, although my appointment was for something else entirely, it was obvious I was struggling to cope with the demands of three young children. On neither occasion was the problem fully explored, nor was any attempt made subsequently to find out whether or not it had eased.

Yes, I know doctors aren't social workers and that many of the changes in the way they work have been forced upon them from above, but the relief with which Dr Kerr's supporters greeted the news he was not to be sacked shows how much we still value doctors who take the time to really listen. And how much we miss them.