Conclusions 309
I have incomplete follow-up on several. I have seen David, a fellow
psychiatrist, at professional meetings, and he is doing well, still wry. After
I interviewed Bradley, we became friendly. He appears healthy, and not
at all depressed. He successfully transitioned to half-time work, and is
more involved in teaching and medical humanities. At one point, after
coming across my name in the newspaper, Jacob called. He and his wife
invited me to a Shabbat dinner. I politely declined the invitation. I sensed
they wanted to persuade me to become more religious. I was wary, and
also felt that my primary role with them was as a researcher. At a party
of doctors, I saw Lou. ‘‘I have a vested interest in this man’s research,’’ he
announced proudly to others standing near us. He, too, seems to be do-
ing well. Suzanne has finished her residency, and is proceeding success-
fully in her career. Walter has started a new, second career as a political
activist—seemingly despite himself, surprised at his continued health.
‘‘I’ll keep it going as long as I can,’’ he says, shrugging in typical mod-
esty. ‘‘What else am I going to do?’’
But others have fared less well. Nancy died shortly after I interviewed
her. Now, at my university, all medical students each year watch a
video I made of our interviews in which she shared her insights. Six
months after I met Deborah, she phoned and left a voice mail message:
‘‘I happen to have a folder of articles about doctors who become pa-
tients,’’ she said. ‘‘I was wondering if you wanted it. I could send it to
you. If you’re interested, leave me your address.’’ I called her back im-
mediately and left a message, saying yes. I recalled her comment during
our meetings that she felt she was not preparing herself for possible
death as she should by tying up loose ends in her life. One week later,
I received an envelope containing the articles. No note. Two weeks later,
she died.
Sally continued to work and kept her lab operating. I saw her once
more, at a reception. She looked thin and frail. ‘‘I don’t know what else
to do,’’ she said. Only at the last moment did she close her lab. When
she died, her hospital mourned her death, and scheduled a memorial
service in her honor.
A few months ago, when I was leaving for two weeks at a conference
and then vacation, Anne called. When I returned to town, I was over-
whelmed with work, and unable to phone her back for several days. I
left a message, but never heard from her again. I have been afraid to call
again.