Dr. Dale Carrison is 77 and still going strong. An admitted screw-up as a young man, he become a sheriff’s deputy and an FBI agent, then an auto parts salesman. A monster midlife crisis turned him into a doctor.
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You want to believe that someone who works in the health care industry has extra caring in his or her soul for their fellow man, that they’re at least partially driven by service to mankind, not solely by the pleasures and power made possible by the dollar.
Well before Dr. Dipak Desai faced criminal charges, Dr. Charles Cohan gave you the sense that the best the physician at the center of the 2007 hepatitis C outbreak in Las Vegas should hope for professionally is popping prisoners’ hemorrhoids, if he was allowed to practice medicine at all.
The more I think about the number of people taking anti-depressants government statistics show one in 10 Americans over the age of 12 taking them the more depressed I become.
There are times when University Medical Center nurse Robin Parks wants to leave her patient’s room and howl in frustration.
“Some families just can’t handle the stigma of someone close to them having HIV, but pneumonia’s OK,” Parks says.
Dr. Dale Carrison, chief of staff and head of emergency at University Medical Center, grimaced as he dragged his legs behind a walker and entered the waiting room of neurosurgeon Dr. William Smith.
“Don’t let anybody tell you different, back operations hurt,” Carrison said.