LOS ANGELES — One of my doctors died the last day of June. He was a doctor at one of the major hospitals in LA and he had a private practice across the street from it. He was on the Board of Directors of the hospital. He was also a fine human being.
The VA Medical Center in Beverly Hills. Jenna Skarzenski / Canyon News
I should know. I work at the largest veteran's medical facility in the United States. I am the coordinator of one of their major units and as a result I deal with a hundred doctors a year, at least. The departed doctor for which I grieve, Doc Shaw, was one in a million.
Doc Shaw read my articles. He called me his scribe. I listened to him when I was examined. I call him my healer because he helped me heal with his compassion and openness.
You could share confidences with Doc Shaw. He shared them with you. He was so nice, you forgot he was a doctor, but more like a healing friend. Even if the pain in the injured area didn't immediately go away, the pain in your heart did because Doc Shaw was there and he was always a phone call away if you needed him.
When I received the letter about his passing, I first thought when I opened it that it was about my annual follow-up. My heart dropped as I saw the first words about his unexpected passing. For days now, I have grieved.
Good Doc Shaw, God Bless and God protect you. Your goodness has earned you a star in the heavens, so all can remember and see your brightness forever. (All this from your scribe, Sean.)