A neurologist conducts her first``house call"during the Covid-19 pandemic: the quaint nostalgia of a bygone era and seeming anachronism meet the conveniences of modernity and uncover the timeless qualities of medicine.The phrase``house call"conjures up nostalgia for an era most of us have never experienced, painted with cheerful and tender Norman Rockwell-style strokes . The avuncular physician, likely a man, clad in a crisp suit, with a capacious leather satchel filled with tinctures of now-illegal substances clinking in glass bottles . The cherubic child clad in a white nightgown, tucked under a patchwork quilt, curls against the pillow, clutching a beloved doll . The worried parent, likely a woman, hovering over the bedside with a cool compress against the fevered forehead.While I have only sepia photos and phonograph recordings to inform me of such a time, my patient Mary actually lived through it . She was born in the thick of such a period, in the 1930's, an era when 40% of physician encounters were house calls . When I had established care for dementia in her 80's, she still had a razor wit, mischievous grin, and twinkling blue eyes . I could tell she had been a kind, but firm, schoolteacher, likely not one to have put up with tomfoolery.