The Doctor's Eyes
The doctor, with an air that was austere yet kind, looked up at the patient: "You see, until a few years ago, it was thought that certain pains were of psychosomatic origin. Perfect test results, no instrumental readings, impossible to explain: invented, self-induced. Then we understood that they weren't invented, but real - today we know how to treat them, with good results, restoring a normal life to those who suffer from them. We are not yet able to detect the markers that tell us which nerve endings, transmitters, or whatever element gives or causes these pains, but we know they exist and we know how to treat them. Science will explain this too."
I was a mere spectator of this situation, but fascinated. The doctor's clear, crystalline eyes showed passion and confidence, while her wrinkles, though composed, betrayed the concrete fear of not having enough time to see these developments. To cure her patients. Those who were initially labeled as psychotic, then sick with something unknown, and now, at least, able to lead a normal life. Something she had worked on for a lifetime.
Passion has no age. And that look, that spark, that satisfaction of having identified something others had ignored - I won't forget it easily.
"Keep me updated, let me know.". Smiling, she half-closed the door as she returned to her notes.