When I was a child I don't remember my parents visiting the doctor, maybe a handful of times, combined. Certainly it was very rare.

My father was diagnosed with a serious but treatable heart condition at 73, for which the prognosis is death in 3-5 years if untreated. He refused treatment despite being encouraged/ warned by my mother, sister and me, and presumably his doctor(?). He died right around the fourth anniversary of diagnosis, and three months before we knew that Jill was expecting little Miss P, his first grandchild.

My mother had a heart attack, of some sort, at 79½ (last summer) and has had a pacemaker fitted. She is now more energetic, and quite frankly happier, than she had been in the two prior years, but is very happy to have the regular checkups, presumably having learned from the mistake my father made.