Monthly Archives: February 2025

family

How Federal Money Changed My Life

I was raised in a blue-collar neighborhood and attended a horrible and dangerous public high school. My dad told me that my only higher education option was to attend the local community college, which I did for two years. There wasn’t money for a big university, and I had no one to guide or inform me about scholarships. 

In the “talents” department I had a lot of deficits.  I grew too fast, and so I was incredibly clumsy.  I’m blind in one eye, so I have little depth perception, making me terrible in sports. I’m naturally an introvert who loves to hang out in my brain and think of obscure things, so I would never be successful as a salesperson. I prefer to have deep relationships with people, so I have to limit how many of them I have as I devote myself to those individuals. Still, it takes a special person to tolerate me as I constantly process multiple thoughts, making it seem like I’m often in the clouds.  

I have written past posts citing my dyslexia. However, I use that as a shorthand term as people can relate to it. In reality, my brain works oddly on multiple levels, and I have had to devise my own solutions to basic skills, like being able to read—tasks that others master with standard instruction. I can understand the most complicated abstract subject, but I can’t remember a phone number and have tremendous difficulty remembering a person’s name (honestly, I try).  

I can often solve complicated problems with solutions that others don’t see. This has turned out to be my big strength. Completely unrelated information connects in my strange brain, as if there is a unifying law that joins everything. I used to think everyone thought like this and was shocked to discover that was not the case.

Educators liked how I thought outside the box, some even using the “G” word to describe me.  Between you and me, the idea that I’m a genius is ridiculous.  I have trouble spelling simple words, and have been known to get lost driving around my neighborhood!  In fact, my friend Tom sarcastically calls me by the name, “Pathfinder.” Yet, I have the ability to do well on academic tests, frequently breaking “the curve.” Go figure.

Teachers strongly encouraged me to pursue advanced educational goals and schools found ways to fund my tuition. I’m sure that some of that money was federal money.

My graduate education was completely paid for. When I applied and got accepted to medical school, I wanted to go to Northwestern, but it cost an enormous $14,000 a year (a joke compared to today’s massive tuition costs). I was about to sign on to another medical school that accepted me but Northwestern took care of me.

In the 1970s, I researched how proteins were extruded through cell membranes at the University of Illinois. At Northwestern, I was part of a research group that did basic cancer research. At the University of Chicago, I was a member of a team that used monoclonal antibodies to study MS. Now, monoclonal antibodies are used in cutting-edge medical treatment, and the process by which Multiple Sclerosis destroys the brain’s white matter is understood. Applied medicine starts with basic research.

As chief resident of psychiatry at Northwestern, I helped select newly minted doctors who wanted to become psychiatrists. As an attending doctor, I have worked with thousands of individuals, helping them with mental illness and addiction issues. I co-founded a clinic that employed others. As an assistant clinical professor at multiple medical schools I trained many medical students and residents.

I’m writing all of this not to brag, but to make a point. If the Federal government didn’t have programs that supported students there was the possibility that I would have wound up as a factory worker instead of a doctor.

My kids are smart and have been given fantastic educational opportunities and merit scholarships. They have seen their mother’s and my love of science and our desire to give back to the community. Having the benefit of their mother’s gene pool added to the unique way that I think, they lack my limitations and would do well in any discipline, including business and finance. However, they all have chosen to delay their careers to pursue advanced degrees that (for them) have meaning and help others.

One of my kids is in grad school studying how environmental change impacts insects. Insects are great research models because they have short lives, allowing researchers to examine the impact of changing conditions over multiple generations. This basic research may sound silly to the uninformed but has practical implications for the real world.

My child came home from a lab meeting yesterday and was very upset about the national halting of research funds for university research programs.  Like me, my child’s graduate education is being funded.  In return, they are giving up multiple earning years as they dedicate themselves to being a part of the solution to the catastrophic problem of climate change. My child’s PI says that my child’s funding is likely safe, at least for now.  However, others in the lab won’t be as lucky.  This university-wide funding freeze is having severe consequences in almost every research lab. The freeze will significantly impact how many new graduate students can be funded for next year’s entering class.

Some potential students will likely seek other avenues, like business, as getting an advanced science degree may become impossible, and employment opportunities post degree will become limited. The bottom line is that this one act could impact US research for many years.  Other countries will take advantage of our restriction, and even if the funding started to flow next month, a tremendous amount of damage has already been done that can’t be reversed.

Another of my kids joined the Peace Corps after college. They were willing to give up years of their earning lives to teach physics to kids in Africa. When COVID hit, everyone was evacuated back to the US. After two weeks in the States, all funding and health insurance benefits were cut off. My child had to go on Medicaid until they could find a new job. Imagine if they came back from Africa with an illness, like malaria, and were left high and dry? 

I know some people are anti-science, but think about what science has given everyone.  Every time you use your cell phone, get treated for an infection, heat food in your microwave, get help for substance abuse, and a million other things you have basic research to thank. 

Our country became great and a world leader because of the GI Bill, which allowed people who would have never been allowed to go to college that opportunity.  Some of those individuals developed the microchip, which makes everything from your cell phone to your TV work. Yes, it is easy for uninformed people to make fun of a study that may sound ridiculous on the surface.  Just dig a little deeper and those “crazy” research projects have significant implications in the real world.  

I don’t think I changed the world, but I moved the needle very slightly in a positive direction. Imagine a thousand like me.  Now think of 10,000 or 100,000 of us.  Helping others who want to help others helps everyone.  

The group that benefited most from DEI were white women (Contrary to what you may believe).  Women approach problems somewhat differently than men (excuse the generalization). That is a considerable asset, so I’m glad they benefited from that initiative. 

Around one third of federal employees are vets who have already sacrificed much.  I have worked for the federal government in the past, and as a physician I was underpaid compared to what I could generate in private practice. However, I was filling a necessary role.  It felt good, but you don’t become rich working for the fed. 

People believed that despite my many limitations, I was worth investing in. I have tried to repay their generosity 100 fold and have dedicated a significant part of my practice to help poorer and underserved populations. I am not alone in my desire to sacrifice to improve the world. Oh, and let’s not forget all the taxes I paid due to my higher economic status! 

My sage mother would tell me, “Don’t spite your face by cutting off your nose.”  Every organization has bloat. That is just a fact. Should the government make a strong effort to eliminate wasteful spending?  Of course it should.  However, the cure shouldn’t be worse than the problem.  Imagine if you had an infected foot, and were given two choices, give antibiotics to cure the infection or cut off the patient’s body at the waist?  You don’t have to be a doctor to use common sense in this situation.  However, it seems that common sense is becoming less common.

Peace,

Mike

family, Family relationships

The Day I Lost Tom Forever

It was the middle of the night when the phone rang. I woke up, startled, and stood up. An immense sense of dread washed over me; I was frozen. I couldn’t answer the phone. It was almost as if something was holding me back. Intuitively, I knew that Tom was gone. I didn’t need confirmation from the person on the other end of the line that it was over.

But what did I lose? What did I have? It was all a mystery to me then, as it is today—memories scattered to such a degree that I can’t even place them in chronological order. Wishes for a future never to be. Expectations never met. Questions never answered. All I could do was accept.

The terrible memories are the most persistent. However, with some thought, wonderful memories emerge and are more fulfilling. Where do I even start?

Today would be my brother Tom’s birthday. He would have been 84 today. But that was never to be; my brother died when he was 33 years old, and I was 20. We were just starting to form a connection with each other. It was nascent but had promise. I longed to know my brother, but circumstances were always against us.

I remember the news, but I don’t know where I was. Certainly, I heard it from my parents. My brother Tom, at 6’1” and husky build, seemed like a tower of health. However, he had gotten a cold that never went away, and when he went to the doctor, something rare in my family, simple blood work revealed a horrifying conclusion. My brother Tom had leukemia. The family GP recommended that he transfer his care to the University of Chicago. The local hospital was not capable of treating him. 

I was in my last year of college studying biology but had little medical knowledge. I planned to become a university professor and was interested in microbiology, not human physiology. The type of leukemia that my brother had generally responded to treatment. A cure recently developed, almost as if it was designed to help him. But then the reality of cancer hit.

When people talk about cancer, a particular veil of information is placed on it. No outsider understands the agony the individual and their family go through—perhaps that is for the best. There’s always an outpouring of sympathy and concern, but people move on. No one wants to hear lousy news, so the patient and the family tend to neutralize what they tell others. Sometimes, they do this to shield themselves. Tom was my first exposure to knowing someone on a close level who had cancer. This was my first time being upfront and in the center.

I was home from school for the summer, working as a Chicago Board of Education janitor. My father had used his clout in the board to get me the job. It was a summer program that hired college students to work in schools. This provided less expensive labor for the school’s many summer maintenance tasks and also provided students with jobs. I started these summer escapades years earlier and many years before I was eligible. You had to be  20 or 21 to get one of these jobs, and I started at 16. I was a tall kid but very much looked like a 16-year-old. I remember a union representative quizzing me about my age when he visited my job site. In my anxious state, I gave him a birth-date that aged me at 30 years. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

When my brother died, I remember one of the assistant school engineers coming to the funeral. I’m not even sure how he knew that my brother had died. I didn’t recall having much of a connection with this man. However, I still think of him fondly for his kindness in coming to comfort me that day. Acts of kindness do make a difference.

I wish I had more memories of my brother. I wish that we had done more things together. However, my brother was 13 years my senior. When I was 10, he was 23. His life was separated from mine.

I remember my brother Tom being big, strong, and dark in complexion. He had black hair from my mother’s side. I always liked my brother Tom. He was a kind soul, and I can’t remember any time that he made me feel bad.

The family consensus was that Tom was a bit on the morose side. This was based on his habit of sitting in his bedroom with the lights off while listening to the radio. However, I don’t know if that interpretation was wholly correct. I, too, like to sit in the dark. I don’t consider myself depressed; instead, I do it to tune out outside stimuli so I can think and concentrate. Was Tom the same?

One of my earliest memories of Tom is when he went off to college. I was around five then, and my parents and I drove him to Rensselaer, Indiana, so he could attend Saint Joseph’s College. I don’t have many memories of the college, but I remember being very impressed that he was going away to school.  

He had met a woman named Donna who worked with my sister Carol. She was some years older than Tom, and he fell madly in love with her. She was possessive and couldn’t deal with the fact that he was so far away. This meant that Tom was constantly returning to Chicago and not addressing his studies. I don’t know how long it took, I assume a year, but he failed out of school and returned home. Donna then dumped him. He gave away college for nothing.

He got an office job working for Union Carbide as he determined his next steps. He applied to multiple colleges, but many rejected him because of his academic failing at St. Joe’s. Eventually, one accepted him, Parsons College in Iowa. Tom attended Parsons and graduated with an excellent GPA, gaining a business degree. I remember attending his graduation with my parents. They were proud of his accomplishment. However, what I remember most was that it was a stormy day. At one point, I stood under a tree to shield myself. Suddenly, I felt tingling in my body and heard a massive crack and a boom above me. Lightning had hit the tree I was standing under, but I was unharmed. It was a miracle.

In this time frame, he met my sister Nancy’s friend, Lee. A romance developed, and then a marriage. I also remember that he was conscripted into the army at some point, or did he volunteer to shorten his time in service? 

I remember his wedding to Lee and his move to the Garfield Ridge neighborhood of Chicago. It was when he was married that he was diagnosed with leukemia. I recall visiting him at the University of Chicago hospitals. I remember how he went from being a hefty guy to skin and bones. I recall helping him into the car for a doctor’s visit. He was so skinny that his belted pants fell to his knees. I remember his voice going from strong to weak and raspy. I recall him being hospitalized and begging me for water, which he was not allowed due to an ileus.  I didn’t have the medical knowledge that I have now, and I was afraid even to give him a sip because I thought it would kill him. I still regret that decision. 

I also have a few other scattered memories of my brother. I remember him taking me to a James Bond movie when I was probably 12. I was thrilled to have him pay attention to me. My brother wrote me a few letters when I was in college, but I don’t remember receiving them. After my mother died, my father found some of the letters.  I suppose Tom didn’t have my address, so he gave them to my mom to mail to me, but life got in the way, and she forgot to do that. What a treasure it was to read them. There was no earth-shattering news, but they highlighted my brother’s wit and writing ability. It made me feel closer to him.

As I got older and our age difference narrowed, we slowly started to form an equal relationship. Sadly, his illness prevented any major progress in that area. With that said, I still have many warm thoughts for my brother Tom. I wish we had had more time together. I celebrate him and his life today. His birthday is February 8, 1941. Rest in peace, dear brother.