Physician Retirement Quotes

The chairman of the state board of medical examiners was a retired physician who thought that President Teddy Roosevelt was the only other man in the world besides himself who had not been made from a banana.

Allan Zacher - Retired physician Retired physician Allan Zacher is a loving father to three adult daughters who know him as a kind, compassionate man with a generous spirit. Since retirement, Allan Zacher has been developing his photography skills and plans to begin selling his work. In his medical career, his specializations were anesthesiology and pain management.

retired physician from Alabama, Dr. Turner told us about the Tuskegee experiment of the 1920s and ’30s, when the government refused to cure a group of Black men with syphilis, just to watch the disease’s horrible progression. Another tangent was about Dr. Turner’s white professor in medical school. He had reminded his students that it was a well-known, scientific fact that the colored race didn’t have the same filial affections as other races. They didn’t feel physical pain much, either, the white professor had said. You could cut into their flesh with a scalpel and they wouldn’t even flinch.

Major General Leonard Wood Leonard Wood was an army officer and physician, born October 9, 1860 in Winchester, New Hampshire. His first assignment was in 1886 at Fort Huachuca, Arizona where he fought in the last campaign against the fierce Apache warrior Geronimo. He was awarded the Medal of Honor for carrying dispatches 100 miles through hostile territory and was promoted to the rank of Captain, commanding a detachment of the 8th Infantry. From 1887 to 1898, he served as a medical officer in a number of positions, the last of which was as the personal physician to President William McKinley. In 1898 at the beginning of the war with Spain, he was given command of the 1st Volunteer Cavalry. The regiment was soon to be known as the “Rough Riders." Wood lead his men on the famous charge up San Juan Hill and was given a field promotion to brigadier general. In 1898 he was appointed the Military Governor of Santiago de Cuba. In 1920, as a retired Major General, Wood ran as the Republican candidate for the presidency of the United States, losing to Warren Harding. In 1921 following his defeat, General Wood accepted the post of Governor General of the Philippines. He held this position from 1921 to 1927, when he died of a brain tumor in Boston, on 7 August 1927, at 66 years of age after which he was buried, with full honors, in Arlington National Cemetery.

Theories percolate that the delay was a deliberate effort to deprive Stalin of necessary medical attention. It is just as likely that all those present, including Stalin’s colleagues, were too frightened to make any decisions. If Stalin regained consciousness, he might see the summoning of a doctor as a treasonous plot to seize power. Certainly it was not the most opportune time for Stalin to require the services of a doctor. When Stalin’s personal physician, Dr. Vladimir Vinogradov, had last examined him, he had diagnosed arteriosclerosis and recommended a rigid course of medical treatment. He also suggested that Stalin retire. Vinogradov was a principled doctor but an imprudent man. Outraged, Stalin ordered the destruction of his medical records. Vinogradov was arrested on November 4 in connection with the Doctors’ Plot.8 Any treatment was further hindered by the fact that a number of the country’s top specialists were now incarcerated.

In the workday world, complainers will not go far. When someone asks how you are doing, you had better be wise enough to reply "I can't complain." If you do complain, even justifiably, people will stop asking how you are doing. Complaining will not help you succeed and influence people. You can complain to your physician or psychiatrist because they are paid to hear you complain. But you cannot complain to your boss or your friends, if you have any. You will soon be dismissed from your job and dropped from the social register. Then you will be left alone with your complaints and no one to listen to them gratis. Perhaps then the message will sink into your head: If you do not feel good enough for long enough, you should act as if you do and even think as if you do. That is the way to get yourself to feel good for long enough and stop you from complaining for good, as any self-improvement book can affirm. But should you not improve, someone must assume the blame. And that someone will be you. This is monumentally so if you are a pessimist or a depressive. Should you conclude that life is objectionable or that nothing matters, do not waste our time with your nonsense. We are on our way to the future, and the philosophically disheartening or the emotionally impaired are not going to hinder our progress. If you cannot say something positive, or at least equivocal, keep it to yourself. Pessimists and depressives need not apply for a position in the enterprise of life. You have two choices: Start thinking the way God and your society want you to think or be forsake by all. The decision is yours, since you are a free agent who can choose to rejoin our fabricated reality or stubbornly insist on... what? That we should mollycoddle non-positive thinkers like you or rethink how the whole world transacts it's business? That we should start over from scratch? Or that we should go extinct? Try to be realistic. We did the best we could with the tools we had. After all, we are only human, as we like to say. Our world may not be in accord with nature's way, but it did develop organically according to our consciousness , which delivered us to a lofty prominence over the Creation. The whole thing just took on a life of its own, and nothing is going to stop it anytime soon. There can be no starting over and no going back. No major readjustments are up for a vote. And no melancholic head-case is going to bad-mouth our catastrophe. The universe was created by the Creator, by damn. We live in a country we love and that loves us back, We have families and friends and jobs that make it all worthwhile. We are somebodies, not a bunch of nobodies without names or numbers or retirement plans. None of this is going to be overhauled by a thought criminal who contends that the world is not double-plus-good and never will be. Our lives may not be unflawed, that would deny us a better future to work towards but if this charade is good enough for us, then it should be good enough for you. So if you cannot get your mind right, try walking away. You will find no place to go and no one who will have you. You will find only the same old trap the world over. Lighten up or leave us alone. You will never get us to give up our hopes. You will never get us to wake up from our dreams. We are not contradictory beings whose continuance only worsens our plight as mutants who embody the contorted logic of a paradox. Such opinions will not be accredited by institutions of authority or by the middling run of humanity. To lay it on the line, whatever thoughts may emerge from your deviant brain are invalid, inauthentic, or whatever dismissive term we care to hang on you, who are only "one of those people." So start pretending that you feel good enough for long enough, stop your complaining, and get back in line.

Even in Stratford, where he spent the last years of his life having supposedly retired from writing, no one identified him as a writer, as Shakespeare scholars themselves concede. Not the town clerk, one Thomas Greene, who stayed at the home of “my cosen Shakspeare” and detailed their exchanges—over mundane land matters—in his diary. Not his son-in-law the physician John Hall, who kept notebooks of his case notes, referring at one point to the “excellent poet” Michael Drayton but saying nothing of his own father-in-law.

Within a year of retirement, Dad showed the early signs of dementia. By 2017, his symptoms were declared mid-stage by his family physician. It's a sad truth, but ultimately, we don't choose the course of our lives.

Felix’s knowledge as a geriatrician forced him to recognize his decline, but it didn’t make it easier to accept. “I get blue occasionally,” he said. “I think I have recurring episodes of depression. They are not enough to disable me, but they are…” He paused to find the right word. “They are uncomfortable.” What buoyed him, despite his limitations, was having a purpose. It was the same purpose, he said, that sustained him in medicine: to be of service, in some way, to those around him. He had been in Orchard Cove for only a few months before he was helping to steer a committee to improve the health care services there. He formed a journal-reading club for retired physicians. He even guided a young geriatrician through her first independent research study—a survey of the residents’ attitudes toward Do Not Resuscitate orders.