Hear Ye! Hear Ye! MT praises physician!

In my line of work, I tend to take the good dictators for granted. I realized that the other night, when one of my best dictators commented on how he probably sounded stupid, and they had given him new forms, mixing him up, etc. So, I sent him an e-mail. It never dawned on me on how much I tend to kvetch about those dictators who make me lose hair, but fail to praise the ones who make me smile:

Dear Dr. Best: I am typing for you currently, and you just made a remark about sounding stupid. Tsk tsk. I contest this, and I will again say that you are one of my BEST dictators ever. You never forget there is someone listening on the other side. I don't remember but one of my other physicians telling me "sorry" when they've sneezed, and that was one time. You've had a cold several times over the years, and your sneezes successfully missed the mouthpiece of the phone AND you apologized for them. You may not realize this, but considering some of my physicians have taken their dictation units into the restroom with them and kept on talkin' (an industry standard, believe it or not), go right ahead on and sneeze as often as you like. I don't ever get to see you in person, but I do want to let you know that I appreciate the "thank you" at the end of each dictation, and the little hums and doot-doots between patients. You have been and will always be a pleasure to type for, even if they were mean and gave you new forms :) A few more seconds with you is NOT going to send me into a deep depression. Anyway, I thought I'd let you know. Thank you for remembering that we transcriptionists probably listen to you as much as anyone else in your life, and your being so gracious and conscientious about your dictation is nothing short of a blessing. Take care, Me
This is his reply:

"...end of dictation for X...and I truly do thank you. I thank you for your little note. I appreciate it. And, trust me, I don't even go to the bathroom at home without closing the door so my wife can't get in, so it is unlikely I will ever take the Dictaphone in with me. Also, I still try to limit my dictations to eight charts at a time so that you have a chance to get up and take a bathroom break if you need to. Take care, Sapphire. Bye.“

I am just beaming. It was on a Dictaphone Straighttalk, so I couldn't record it for posterity, but, hey, I type. That's what I do. So, here it is, for posterity.