INFLUENCERS IN MEDICINE
The Two Thomases
by ELIZABETH CLARK
My grandfather passed away in 2015 , at the age of 91 . Honestly , it was kind of a miracle . Not the death - that kind of becomes a given , when you get to that age . But the life ! That was the miracle . After all , the man had had four heart attacks . One of them was even on a plane . No matter ; he soldiered on . He was so determined to live that he astounded his cardiac team at Duke by completely stopping the progression of his heart disease . As a retired internist with 50 years of experience under his belt , he knew as well as his team that his compromised heart wouldn ’ t keep beating forever . For years , my grandfather punctured every goodbye with a variation on the same theme . “ You know , Elizabeth , this might be the last time I see you . It ’ s a medical miracle that I ’ m still alive .” And then , one day , it was true .
I got the call from my dad . I was at work . He called three times . I knew something was wrong . “ Hello ?” I answered . “ Sorry , I don ’ t have much time to talk right now .” “ Oh , that ’ s okay . This won ’ t take long . Your grandfather is dying . I ’ ll talk to you later .” Click . My dad is a forensic pathologist . I ’ m not sure if his people skills atrophied over 30 years of spending most of his time with dead people , or if they just didn ’ t exist to begin with , but they ’ re not much to speak of nowadays . He ’ s been like that as long as I ’ ve known him . He was a popular source of comic relief on the stand in North Carolina , where I grew up , guaranteed to spice up any capital case . Once , when he was testifying over the phone in a military tribunal , the prosecutor asked him , “ Dr . Clark , is this your signature on this piece of paper ?” “ Could you hold it a little closer to the phone ?” he responded . “ I can ’ t see it .”
When I was a kid , my school always had a career day , when parents would come in and talk about their jobs . Most of the parents brought posters and business cards . My dad brought bones , and sometimes hair . Occasionally , the bones had bullet holes in them . All the boys thought that was really cool . Me ? I thought it was normal . Dinner table conversation at my house used to completely wig my elementary school friends out . My mom , a Methodist pastor , would ask my dad , “ Honey , how was your day ?” “ Oh , it was fine ,” he ’ d respond . “ Multiple gunshot wound , multiple stab wound , a baby in a dumpster . Not too bad .” I thought his job was fascinating , but it didn ’ t make my home the most popular after school hangout .
14 LOUISVILLE MEDICINE