I don't know if i have spelt the name of our old family doctory correctly but those who will remember him will recognise the attempt at the spelling.
He had his surgery in Aston Road North just past the Aston Road Post Office, and near to a car show rooms, that seemed to have Aston Martins nearly always in the showroom.
However, Doctor Gouravitch - my dad always said that he was a White Russian, as apposed to Red, he also said that he came over to escape the Russian Revolution. I don't know if that is correct. But Doctor Gouravitch, had a really thick East European accent, i remember when he came to me - I was ill with rheumatic fever, and he used to come in at least every other day; my mom used to keep hens, and as it was during the summer, they were in full lay, and he never went away without at least 6 eggs all wrapped separately in newspaper, so that they wouldn't get broken. He also would make reference to our dog, who by any standards could only be described as a 'street accident', but l loved her. One day he said to my mom - "Mrs Sheargold you hef one doc and isn't she ockly" translated as "..... you have one dog and isnt she ugly?"
We would go to his surgery, and he would be sitting with one leg cushioning his seat, and an ashtray full of half smoked Players, and one burning. I know that he had a son who was a serving soldier. He had his photograph on his desk. Also he would go into his dispensary and come back with a bottle of medicine, which he had dispensed. I remember my mom used to pay a shilling a week to belong to the doctors club, and this covered all visits and medications.
I can visualise that there was a plaque over the entrance to his surgery, and it referred to the fact that Arthur Conon Doyle had resided there at some time. Cannot remember though the dates.
After he retired, we went to Dr Fitzgeralds surgery (by this time the NHS had started) but there was a practice there of one or two doctors, one being Dr Gibson, who was lovely, and the other one was Doctor Smith, who never went down very well with my dad, as Doc Smith had a real thing about smoking - he hated it. Have to say i agreed with him. However it was Doctor Gibson who i always considered was my Doctor, and later on one of his sons joined the practice. Dr Gibson and his family were a handsome lot.
But protocol, wasn't PC in those days, and he (Dr Gibson) saw my mom in the street, and told her i was expecting our first baby, I hadn't intended telling her until it was obvious, because i knew that she would have carried my baby for me if she could have done, but there ya go!
Somebody has already mentioned this, Dr Gibson, was always willing to visit, and after we left the district, and i couldn't get the GP that we were registered with, in desparation i phoned Dr Gibson, and he came to visit, we were living at The Royal Mint in Icknield street then, and my husband had suddenly collapsed with chest pains, Dr Gibson was there as fast as any ambulance, and diagnosed pleurosy, he also came back the next day to check. He and his family emigrated to Australia - he was sorely missed.
While i still lived in Birmingham, i remember an article in the Evening Mail, a pensioner named (Dr?) Gouravitch doing a language course in Yiddish. He could only have been our 'old' doctors son. Also at the Birmingham Childrens Hospital there was a ward called the Gouravitch Ward; i know because our youngest son Robert was in there in 1973.
