My father died in January at 96, but I'll never forget the Friday he taught me the true meaning of the Hippocratic Oath that drives my work for the FLCCC.
Your father was a great doctor and humanitarian, and raised a daughter with the same dedication, ethics and values — and smarts! The world is blessed to have had you both and for you to continue caring as he did.
My Dad was a retired internist and he died in Nov 2020 at almost the exact same age as your father (4 weeks shy of his 97th birthday).
I remember discussing hydroxychloroquine with my Dad early in the pandemic and was quite surprised when he told me he would have tried it if he was still in practice and had patients with COVID. When I questioned my Dad about this, he made the point that the studies saying HCQ didn't work weren't following the full protocol (which included zinc & azithromycin), and that he didn't believe the reports that it caused heart attacks. To emphasize his point, he said "Look, HCQ has been around forever and, over the years, I've had a fair number of patients with lupus who took it, so I know it's safe. I don't know if it works or not, but it can't hurt and there's nothing else to try at the moment. So I wouldn't hesitate to try it to see if it works".
I think there are at least 3 key differences between doctors & hospitals in our fathers' generation and those today:
The first is that doctors in our parents' generation were either solo practitioners or part of a small group, so no one could tell them what to do or how to practice medicine.
Next there were no hospitalists, and doctors spent part of each day at the hospital seeing patients who had been admitted. My Dad generally saw patients in the morning and visited his patients in the hospitals and nursing homes in the afternoon. A benefit of this was that he would always bump into other doctors while making his rounds, which would give them opportunities to "talk shop" with each other and exchange ideas on the issues of the day.
Finally, hospitals back in those days were mostly independent of each other and they treated doctors well to get their referrals. I can't imagine a hospital back then telling my Dad what medications he was allowed to prescribe for a patient. He would have simply referred his patients to a different hospital if that happened.
In my mind, medicine today is practiced completely differently. Medical practices are big and most of the doctors are mere employees of the practice. Hospitalized patients are seen by hospitalists and doctors spend their entire day seeing patients in 15 minute intervals. The hospitals meanwhile are generally part of a larger group themselves and aren't shy about threatening to withdraw a doctor's privileges if they don't toe the line. Combine this with big pharma capture of the regulatory agencies, and it's no surprise that the Hippocratic Oath has gone out the window.
Loved your story. “The memories of the righteous shall be a blessing.” Thanks for sharing. Sorry for your loss. My Dad was a General Surgeon in a small town for over 30 years…. He would have been 97 this fall… both from the same era. They were from the greatest generation no doubt because of all they lived through… the roaring twenties, the dirty thirties, his parents eeked out an existence farming on the Dakota prairie, he steered the John Deere JP when he was 5. He and his brothers were running the farm in high school. They had the Great Depression, was drafted into WWII weighing 130#, he relied on the GI bill for education. My Dad’s goal was to take care of patients and help any way he could. He was calm and reassuring, great assessment skills, long before there was all the CT’s/MRI’s. He was meticulous in his work. Again his advise still rings true today: Listen to the patients, they will tell you what’s wrong. Work hard. Don’t wait, if there is a possible complication, fix it. He pinned broken hips, removed tonsils and adenoids, did OB/Gyn surgeries, delivered babies, and did C sections, and he tended to trauma patients in the ER. He fixed bowel obstructions and colon Cancer surgeries where they were taught to strip the nodes down to the Aorta. He laboriously tackled the 6-8 hour Whipple surgery for two pancreatic cancer patients, giving them hope and more time to live and took cases Mayo Clinic wouldn’t touch. He methodically closed the incision in layers, spent a lot of time tying knots and was most happy with the fact that over 3 decades, he never had a leak/fistula-crediting the religious use of a gastric tube post op. They named the surgery center after my Dad some 20 years after he retired. So many memories that carry us on. The legacy of their lives, their wisdom and love for humanity live on in the stories we tell. Praying for you as you miss your Dad.
Those stories about your father moved me to tears and made me flash on Doc Moonlight Graham from Field of Dreams (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6bD23vEigE.) Most doctors, these days, it seems, are "invertebrates," a description I read online recently refering to those without courage or moral compass. I hope you share more memories of your father's life as just knowing that people like him exist gives people strength.
This story brought tears to my eyes. "Fight for their lives until the fight is over" is what doctors SHOULD be saying today. I am deeply sorry for your profound loss. What a gift to have a father like him. I also believe that had your father been in a decision-making position, this virus would be behind us and I would still have a relationship with my two brothers. They are holding steadfast to their sad belief that there is no treatment for Covid and believe that I am a quack for believing otherwise. God bless you for fighting this fight (and everyone else at the FLCCC). It gives me hope that you will "remain in this fight". I will think of your dear father when I feel like giving up trying to wake people up. PS - I tell everyone to read the book you wrote with him. So very timely and an absolute delight!
What an awesome tribute to your Dad. Thank you for sharing. He had the kind of wisdom we truly need today. You brought fond memories of my Dad that has been gone over 25 years now. They were truly The Greatest Generation.
Beautiful story, your father was an amazing physician and human. I imagine your medical care is also wonderful too, as you’re willing to go out on a limb for successful patient outcomes.
Your father was a great doctor and humanitarian, and raised a daughter with the same dedication, ethics and values — and smarts! The world is blessed to have had you both and for you to continue caring as he did.
My Dad was a retired internist and he died in Nov 2020 at almost the exact same age as your father (4 weeks shy of his 97th birthday).
I remember discussing hydroxychloroquine with my Dad early in the pandemic and was quite surprised when he told me he would have tried it if he was still in practice and had patients with COVID. When I questioned my Dad about this, he made the point that the studies saying HCQ didn't work weren't following the full protocol (which included zinc & azithromycin), and that he didn't believe the reports that it caused heart attacks. To emphasize his point, he said "Look, HCQ has been around forever and, over the years, I've had a fair number of patients with lupus who took it, so I know it's safe. I don't know if it works or not, but it can't hurt and there's nothing else to try at the moment. So I wouldn't hesitate to try it to see if it works".
I think there are at least 3 key differences between doctors & hospitals in our fathers' generation and those today:
The first is that doctors in our parents' generation were either solo practitioners or part of a small group, so no one could tell them what to do or how to practice medicine.
Next there were no hospitalists, and doctors spent part of each day at the hospital seeing patients who had been admitted. My Dad generally saw patients in the morning and visited his patients in the hospitals and nursing homes in the afternoon. A benefit of this was that he would always bump into other doctors while making his rounds, which would give them opportunities to "talk shop" with each other and exchange ideas on the issues of the day.
Finally, hospitals back in those days were mostly independent of each other and they treated doctors well to get their referrals. I can't imagine a hospital back then telling my Dad what medications he was allowed to prescribe for a patient. He would have simply referred his patients to a different hospital if that happened.
In my mind, medicine today is practiced completely differently. Medical practices are big and most of the doctors are mere employees of the practice. Hospitalized patients are seen by hospitalists and doctors spend their entire day seeing patients in 15 minute intervals. The hospitals meanwhile are generally part of a larger group themselves and aren't shy about threatening to withdraw a doctor's privileges if they don't toe the line. Combine this with big pharma capture of the regulatory agencies, and it's no surprise that the Hippocratic Oath has gone out the window.
Your father was a great man. I'm sorry for your loss.
Exactly right. We should be doing crowd-sourced treatment comparisons. One of the benefits is much less opportunity for corruption.
Loved your story. “The memories of the righteous shall be a blessing.” Thanks for sharing. Sorry for your loss. My Dad was a General Surgeon in a small town for over 30 years…. He would have been 97 this fall… both from the same era. They were from the greatest generation no doubt because of all they lived through… the roaring twenties, the dirty thirties, his parents eeked out an existence farming on the Dakota prairie, he steered the John Deere JP when he was 5. He and his brothers were running the farm in high school. They had the Great Depression, was drafted into WWII weighing 130#, he relied on the GI bill for education. My Dad’s goal was to take care of patients and help any way he could. He was calm and reassuring, great assessment skills, long before there was all the CT’s/MRI’s. He was meticulous in his work. Again his advise still rings true today: Listen to the patients, they will tell you what’s wrong. Work hard. Don’t wait, if there is a possible complication, fix it. He pinned broken hips, removed tonsils and adenoids, did OB/Gyn surgeries, delivered babies, and did C sections, and he tended to trauma patients in the ER. He fixed bowel obstructions and colon Cancer surgeries where they were taught to strip the nodes down to the Aorta. He laboriously tackled the 6-8 hour Whipple surgery for two pancreatic cancer patients, giving them hope and more time to live and took cases Mayo Clinic wouldn’t touch. He methodically closed the incision in layers, spent a lot of time tying knots and was most happy with the fact that over 3 decades, he never had a leak/fistula-crediting the religious use of a gastric tube post op. They named the surgery center after my Dad some 20 years after he retired. So many memories that carry us on. The legacy of their lives, their wisdom and love for humanity live on in the stories we tell. Praying for you as you miss your Dad.
I've read about your dad once before and was impressed by his ingenuity. This was a moving piece that everyone should read. Sorry for your loss.
Those stories about your father moved me to tears and made me flash on Doc Moonlight Graham from Field of Dreams (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6bD23vEigE.) Most doctors, these days, it seems, are "invertebrates," a description I read online recently refering to those without courage or moral compass. I hope you share more memories of your father's life as just knowing that people like him exist gives people strength.
Thoroughly enjoyed reading this post about your amazing, principled and compassionate father. I know how very proud you must be to be his daughter.
I’m so sorry for your loss. He sounds like a wonderful man.
This story brought tears to my eyes. "Fight for their lives until the fight is over" is what doctors SHOULD be saying today. I am deeply sorry for your profound loss. What a gift to have a father like him. I also believe that had your father been in a decision-making position, this virus would be behind us and I would still have a relationship with my two brothers. They are holding steadfast to their sad belief that there is no treatment for Covid and believe that I am a quack for believing otherwise. God bless you for fighting this fight (and everyone else at the FLCCC). It gives me hope that you will "remain in this fight". I will think of your dear father when I feel like giving up trying to wake people up. PS - I tell everyone to read the book you wrote with him. So very timely and an absolute delight!
What an awesome tribute to your Dad. Thank you for sharing. He had the kind of wisdom we truly need today. You brought fond memories of my Dad that has been gone over 25 years now. They were truly The Greatest Generation.
Your mother looks very proud of your father in that photo! Sorry for your loss.
Well said Joyce. Thanks for sharing your story. Your dad sounds like a remarkable man.
Sorry for your loss. The world needs more doctors like your Dad.
Absolutely beautiful. God love our cranky old docs with ethics as solid as the (doctor's) day is long. Was in tears half way through. Thank you!
Beautiful story, your father was an amazing physician and human. I imagine your medical care is also wonderful too, as you’re willing to go out on a limb for successful patient outcomes.
May his memory be a blessing.