Okay, you like that story, how about this one.
When I was a student, I rotated through the UCSF oncology dept, twice. Early in my first time through, this old guy came in from Manteca or Modesto, some dinky valley town where he had his dairy farm. He had never been inside a hospital aside from going to visit someone else prior to coming to San Francisco. He was literally born in a barn. He started having trouble swallowing, went from eating steak or pork chops to soup and yogurt. He goes to his doctor, who checks him over and tells him he does not know for sure what is wrong, but it is something bad. You need to go to a big city, someplace with a teaching hospital, like Palo Alto or San Francisco. In retrospect, I think maybe he did not want to be the one tell his old friend he had cancer. Old man goes up to Parnassus, is poked and scanned, and gets the bad news from the chief of the department. He told us about it after the man left.
Guy is all ate up with cancer. Primary looks to be esophageal, but his scan was ridiculous, it was everywhere. Treatment would require that the man stay in the city, there is a little apartment he can use, because the treatment will be daily, and very intense. No way he could drive back and forth, even if he would feel like driving, which he would probably not be up to doing. Treatment would take a few months. Old guy says, "Okay, so two months to cure me." No, your cancer is terminal, this would buy you some time. How much time? 6 months, maybe. What if I don't do anything? Maybe 3 months. Well doc, that does not sound like a very good deal, I gotta give up two months just to pick up one. Doctor says, no, it is six months. Well I get three if I go home right now. I stay two months, I go home and get four more, and I have to give up what are maybe the best two months I have left, that is just no good. Thank you for your time, I am going home. Doctor gets him lined up with hospice care from his family doctor, keep him comfortable as possible.
Second time through that rotation, a few months later, this irate, crazy guy shows up. You MFers sent my father home to die, you did not do anything for him, nothing, and he's dead. He was nucking futs, pacing around with the crazy eyes, ranting like a maniac. I tell you what, I am looking to see if he is printing, or if maybe he goes and gets the shotgun from the car before he goes to work, I seriously thought that is where it was going. Chief comes out of his office and starts to talk to the guy, says he remembers the guy's father very well, since he made a very strong impression on him. Even though he only talked to him for less than an hour, he recalled him quite vividly. Now I was more inclined to find a window to jump out of, and was looking around for the fastest way to get the heck out of there, and this guy is just calmly chatting with this freakin' lunatic. He says, I did not really get to know your father in the short time we talked. He struck me as a man who would approach a problem methodically. Get all the information he could, then make a decision. Once he decided, it was over, once his mind was made up he would not change it. The son stops, loses the crazy eyes, and sort of smiles a little, quiet all of the sudden, lost in the memory of his father. Yeah, he was really hard headed, he was always like that. Well, if that is true, how could I change the way he was his whole life in half an hour. The son starts crying, walks up and hugs the doctor, thanks him and leaves.
Okay, WTF was that? Doctor looks at me quizzically, what do you mean? That guy was looking to kill somebody, you probably, and in five minutes you turn that into crying and thank you so much doctor, that is what I mean. Oh, he did not want to kill anyone, he just needed someone to blame. His father was a good man. What kind of world would we be living in if a good man like that gets struck down by cancer and is gone, just like that. Stuff like that is wrong and has to be someone's fault, it can't just happen. He made it my fault, and came to vent his anger on me. He was mad because he lost his father, but the man chose how he wanted the end of his life to go, that was not up to me. His son had not realized that until now, that's all it was.