Eulogy for a Doctor
The medical community where I work suffered a loss recently. A doctor died — suddenly and unexpectedly.
I knew him for close to 15 years. He played several roles in my life.
He was a mentor who can best be described as fire and energy. He was tough, firm, and demanding — always pushing us to be better than ourselves. And he forged his trainees this way because he believed that those who went through fire came out tempered strong. This strength guarantees that we can do our work well. When we do good work, we keep our patients safe, we keep them far from harm. Thank you for this lesson.
He was a friend who can be described as funny, silly, and easy to make laugh. He had his mood swings — manic/frantic one time, morose/serious the next. His personality shifts can make you dizzy. He always appeared to have a thousand things in his to-do list today, with just 5 minutes to do them in. But beneath this fiery nature is a caring heart. He loved his father very much — fiercely so. He loved his mother much the same way. He surprised those he cared about with gifts acquired during his trips abroad. He loved to eat fine food, and would often drop by a fancy restaurant, bringing along whoever he was with at the moment. He is also a very secretive person who shields his personal life from prying eyes. He chooses very carefully what aspects of his life to share with others, and jealously guards the rest. He shared with me his child-like wonder and activity, and his unconditional love for his parents. Thank you for this lesson.
The shock of this loss in our community is still being felt. I saw several of his long-time patients who became lost when they found out. A common thread of our conversations was how much he cared despite being so busy. He left big shoes to fill. In a few minutes, I shall open my clinic and will probably gather a few more strays that have wandered over. Aside from the clinical care, part of which you have been responsible for forming in me, we will probably spend a few moments reminiscing our short time together.
Our prayers go with you, Dr. B.