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Kevin Dorsey

Like Father, Like Son?

As I dwell on the recent death of my oldest son, I can’t help but think of my father, who dealt with his share of losses.

At the age of 16, he lost the use of his (dominant) right arm during a polio epidemic. The response from one girl he asked out was “I don’t date cripples.” How’s that for a confidence-booster?

After graduating from college in 1927, he went to work as an accountant on Wall Street, just before the onset of the Great Depression. Talk about poor timing. But one of his proudest moments was that after working a few days around the clock, trying to balance the books, he kept his job through the Depression.

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About thirty years ago, after I’d completed my internal medicine residency and a rheumatology fellowship, my wife and I moved with our three-year-old son to my wife’s hometown. 

There I joined a multispecialty group practice as the second rheumatologist. Over time, the plan was for me to build a rheumatology practice, but while that was happening I took on all kinds of patients, both primary-care and intensive-care. I felt very comfortable doing general internal medicine, and I also liked the intensity of ICU work.

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