I asked my new, 40-something female physician (a specialist) about the risks versus the benefits of an increased dose of a medication. We had mostly concluded the annual visit, and as the doctor stood up to leave, she said at my age (63), if the medication made me feel better, use it. She cited no information or stats, nothing for me to consider. She just gave me a go ahead to increase my dose, and then left the room.

When Your Doctor Stops Seeing You

The parent in me started an inner monologue. If I applied that logic to everything, including (for argument’s sake) suddenly starting smoking, doing hard drugs, and/or engaging in overall risky behavior, I wouldn’t need statistics to tell me that the probability of me shortening my life was pretty good. What I heard from her was that risks don’t matter when you’re 63, because 63 is plenty.

In less than a minute, she made me feel old and unimportant. How exactly, I’m not sure, since according to Eleanor Roosevelt, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent,” and I don’t recall giving my consent. Was her answer and approach the result of age bias? Time constraints? Both?

The Struggle to Find a Doctor Who Listens

New City, New Challenges: Before I moved to Florida a few years ago, I figured I’d have no trouble finding good doctors as I aged. After all, nearly 22 percent of the population in Florida is over 65. It’s one of three states with the oldest populations, along with California and Texas. Certainly doctors flock to places where there’s steady business.

But in the first two years I lived here, two of my new physicians retired, and a third quit on the same day as my first visit. (No, not because of me, but yes, I did see the humor in it.)

It took me months to find replacements, and months more to get appointments. Not only was it hard to get into this particular doctor’s practice, but she was considered one of the best in town, and there weren’t a lot of close seconds. If I were to leave her practice, finding someone new wouldn’t be easy.

Should I get over it? Was I being too sensitive? I posed my concerns to some of my peers. The first few replies focused on the medication itself—whether the type had something to do with the doctor’s response (fair question, but it didn’t). The majority homed in on her tone and lack of conversation.

“Welcome to the age of invisibility,” said Barbara Cooley, a writer and family historian in Michigan. “An age where your desire to remain alive and healthy no longer registers with many healthcare providers.”

She wasn’t alone in her feelings. Several others echoed this opinion. Another Barbara—Barbara Greenberg, a clinical psychologist from Connecticut—provided insight into why I might have reacted the way I did. “I don’t like that answer at all,” she said. “The doctor didn’t need to discuss your age.”

It’s true. She didn’t.

Unless my physician was going to give me stats about risk factors related to age, it really wasn’t relevant. She seemed to be saying that when you get to a certain age, don’t think about risks, not if whatever medication you’re taking makes you feel better. But that’s a short-term solution that could have long-lasting negative effects.

How Ageism Affects Patient Care and Outcomes: What the Experts Say

A few days later, I asked the same group of people what they felt was the most improtant trait of a good doctor. Can you guess the answer?

Most everyone said it was being a good listener.

Here’s a tip for doctors to improve the patient experience, from the American Academy of Family Physicians (AAFP):

“Physicians need to move from a prescriptive practice of medicine, where we simply tell our patients what to do, to a more progressive form of care where we have open dialogue and exchange ideas with our patients and include their viewpoints.”

Which leads us back to the idea of age bias in medicine. From an article at UCLA Health: “Age bias shows up in the way that health care providers talk to their patients, the degree to which they listen, the range of diagnostic tests they offer and the scope of treatments they are willing to make available.”

So what’s UCLA‘s approach to working with older patients? “We will explain a diagnosis in detail, and in outlining treatment options, we always ask our patient, ‘What matters to you? Is it symptom management, quality of life, fewer interventions, longevity?’ The answers become the starting point of our treatment.”

Get Ready: Doctor Shortages Are Rising

According to projections published in 2024 by the Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC), the United States could face a total shortage of up to 86,000 physicians by 2036. There are many reasons why, but the primary ones are population growth, and aging of both patients and physicians.

Specifically, the U.S. population is projected to grow 8.4 percent by 2036 and the population aged 65 and older is estimated to increase by 34.1 percent, creating a high demand for specialists that many seniors need. Add in the fact that many physicians are nearing retirement age, and the AAMC predicts that “it is very likely that more than a third of currently active physicians will retire within the next decade.”

That’s a lot of physicians to replace.

How to Find a Doctor Who Listens

Given the rising shortages, older patients might turn to geriatric doctors for their primary care, especially since they generally provide longer appointment times. Concierge doctors, also known as direct care doctors, are another option, albeit a more costly one.

“I was so frustrated with useless responses like the one you received that I finally invested in a direct care doctor,” said Dr. Robyn Odegaard of MentalMacGyver.com. “She’s been great about talking through all options, answering my questions about everything, and then letting me make a decision.”

The cost of an annual membership with a concierge doctor ranges from around $1,500 to $20,000—though it can run even higher. It covers services you usually get from a primary care doctor, with the main difference being concierge doctors are more readily available because they don’t see as many patients. It’s basically the way things used to be when we were growing up—easier to get care and longer visits with doctors who ask questions, minus the membership fee.

Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda

In the end, I didn’t increase my dose. Why? I did my own research and decided it wasn’t worth the risk. I don’t expect to feel perfect. What I really want is more time.

I’m not talking about more time at a doctor’s appointment, though that would be nice as well. I’m hoping for more time on this earth. I’d like to watch my grown sons continue to find their way in love and work. To be here for the people closest to me who are facing serious health issues. To explore more of my interests, and see more of the world than I’ve been able to. But mostly, to be as healthy as possible for as long as possible.

The doctor never asked me about my wishes. It wouldn’t have taken long. I just did it here, in a short paragraph.

Over the last six months I’ve thought of a million things I could have said to her before she left so abruptly. But the truth is, I got stuck on the “at 63” part and froze. She saw my age on my chart and that was that. I saw my face in the mirror before I left home that morning, and I didn’t notice my age. Not because I don’t look older—I do. But because I don’t feel old. And moving forward, I’m not going to let anyone make me feel that I am.

Have you ever felt unseen by a doctor because of your age?

Melissa T. Shultz is a writer and editor whose work has been published by The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Dallas Morning News, AARP’s The Ethel, Ladies’ Home Journal, Parade, Newsweek, Reader’s Digest, and many other publications. She is Editor-at-Large for Jim Donovan Literary, and the author of “From Mom to Me Again” a memoir/self-help book that was named one of “Three Inspiring Reads” by Parade.com. Her first children’s book “What Will I Do If I Miss You?” is forthcoming from Familius in 2025.