Called Out

“What the fuck’s wrong with you? “He barked, grabbing me by my shirt collar, pinning me against the wall as I exited the conference room.  Dr. Roman Sky had just given us pathology residents a lecture on some aspect of pediatric pathology, in the spring of 1996.  Stunned, shocked, and terrified, I stood there against the wall, frozen, wide-eyed, and speechless.  “You’re stumbling around, bumping into things, dropping stuff, and making a mess. Are you in drugs!?” he continued.  I just stood there, motionless, internally acknowledging the reality that I could no longer keep my secret, which I had been fighting desperately to keep, hidden.

I had been rotating in surgical pathology, my first rotation of my first year of residency, at a private hospital in Long Beach, California, since January 1 of that year.   As a resident on this rotation, I examined and processed surgical specimens ranging from skin biopsies, to colons, to breasts. Additionally, every four weeks I performed all of the autopsies requested. One reason I chose to go into the medical field of pathology is because it is mentally challenging, yet not physically taxing in nature.  Surgical pathology is the most physically demanding aspect of pathology.

What Dr. Sky had brought to light, showing me the reflection in my mirror, was true. I was stumbling around, bumping into things, dropping stuff, and making a mess. The nickname I had acquired during this rotation, ”Bloody mess”, was appropriate.  Though not for the reasons Dr. Sky thought.

A self-proclaimed  “big dumb Pollock,” Dr. Sky was by no means dumb. Polish, yes, big, yes, looking more like an NFL middle linebacker than a physician. Having successfully completed a pediatrics residency, a pathology residency, and a pediatric pathology fellowship, holding board certifications in pediatrics, anatomic and clinical pathology, and pediatric pathology, one could hardly question his intellect.

This encounter marked the beginning of an extremely meaningful and influential relationship during my residency. Dr. Sky, throughout my residency years, afforded me opportunities that had not been presented me by anyone else, such as presenting cases to the multidisciplinary tumor board on several occasions. These conferences, attended by the clinicians treating the patients being presented, were where decisions about treatment were made.  Over the four years of residency, he became like a father figure to me. One of the few things I miss about my residency years

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The more I got to know Dr. Sky, the more I understood from where his words and actions during our first encounter came. They were not words of anger, contempt, or disgust. They were words of caring, kindness, and compassion. That encounter was his attempt, although clumsy and likely illegal, at a possible intervention rather than an act of accusation.

Accosting me like he did after that conference shook me and caught me off guard, as I think was his intention. I saw the reaction on his face and change in body language when I finally responded.  I could hear the ”thunk” of his dropped jaw hitting the floor as I finally answered his question, disclosing, ”I have multiple sclerosis.”