on March 11th, 2015 No Comments
Neurosurgeon and writer Paul Kalanithi, MD, passed away on Monday. A death is almost always sad, but for me this one is indescribably so – though if he were alive he might convince me of a positive angle.
Kalanithi died at 37 of lung cancer less than a year after finishing his neurosurgery residency at Stanford. During the roughly two years between his diagnosis and death, he spent time as a surgeon saving lives and passing his skills and insights to neurosurgery trainees. But I came to meet him through my work as editor of Stanford Medicine magazine, which published an essay he crafted. His words changed how I think about my life – and, based on the many letters and emails I’ve received, changed how many people looked at theirs as well.
After his diagnosis he wrote essays for The New York Times and Stanford Medicine about his changing perception of mortality and time and the joy he continued to find in life. I interviewed him for a video produced for our magazine, talking with him at his apartment and meeting his wife and baby girl. My colleagues also got to know him by working on stories about his life and illness; just a few days ago, Paul Costello shared on Scope a 45-minute conversation the two had last fall.
Kalanithi’s message, to appreciate every moment, sounds corny when I write it, but in his eloquent words it hits home. In the obituary I wrote today, I shared this excerpt from his Stanford Medicine essay – words he wrote for his infant daughter:
When you come to one of the many moments in life when you must give an account of yourself, provide a ledger of what you have been, and done, and meant to the world, do not, I pray, discount that you filled a dying man’s days with a sated joy, a joy unknown to me in all my prior years, a joy that does not hunger for more and more, but rests, satisfied. In this time, right now, that is an enormous thing.
Previously: Stanford neurosurgeon/cancer patient Paul Kalanithi: “I can’t go on. I will go on.”, For this doctor couple, the Super Bowl was about way more than football, A neurosurgeon’s journey from doctor to cancer patient, Stop skipping dessert:” A Stanford neurosurgeon and cancer patient discusses facing terminal illness and No one wants to talk about dying but we all need to
Image – a screenshot from a Stanford Medicine video – from Mark Hanlon