I was kind of innocent back in 1998. A new doctor fresh out of school. I didn’t know about our doctor suicide crisis. I didn’t know about the widespread human right violations in medical education. I didn’t know about assembly-line medicine or big-box clinics.
I just knew I wanted to help people.
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Johnny’s disabled. He can’t get to my office anymore. So I drive 100 miles up the Oregon coast to check in on him. I get lost, but finally discover his little white house on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
“Last time a doctor come to my house,
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Doctor revived after suicide. Here's what he says.
