Goodbyes

Mike is a great guy. Doing remarkably well even into his late 80's. He's had epilepsy since childhood, which is controlled very well with medications. I've been seeing him since he moved here 15 years ago. He comes in once a year for me to refill his medication. Because he's so stable it's really more of a social visit. We talk about families, baseball, and (his favorite topic) horse racing.

He came in for his annual visit yesterday, and looked awful. He's been diagnosed with metastatic esophageal cancer, way too extensive to operate, so he's just getting palliative treatment.

There was really nothing, from a neurological view, for me to do. We talked about the usual things, especially his excitement at 2015 having brought the first Triple-Crown winner since 1978. I refilled his medication and sent him out with a handshake, like I always do.

I know I won't see him again. He probably does, too. On the "next appointment" line I just scribbled "will call" because it seemed cruel to write the usual "1 year."

Even the easy patients aren't always easy. It's part of the job, but that doesn't mean I like it.