I’ve kept up with Andy since that day, speaking with him and Karen by phone a couple of times a month. In some ways, this year has been like a second internship for Andy: He’s had to prove himself all over again, he’s had to make a whole new group of friends and learn the ins and outs of an entirely new system. Everything about his new program is different from Schweitzer: The patients are mostly private and are referred to the hospital because of the special expertise of members of the faculty. The diseases they have are, for the most part, less common. (“We’ve got zebras here,” Andy told me. “No horses, just zebras.”) And the ancillary services are worlds better than ours. It took some period of adjustment, but now Andy is feeling comfortable. Before he left, he had some concern that he would be ill-equipped to work at Children’s, that his knowledge and skills after a year of training here in the Bronx would leave him wanting when compared with those of the house officers in Boston. He’s told me that that fear has turned out to be unfounded. He feels that he knows as much as if not more than the other junior residents in the program.
Recently, most of Andy’s thoughts have been taken up with the future. Specifically, he can’t figure out what the hell he’s going to do after he finishes his senior year. He’s jumped from wanting more than anything to get some subspecialty training so he can know a great deal about one particular area of medicine that very few other people know about, to wanting to be a good primary-care pediatrician, serving the needs of a large number of children and their families. In our most recent conversations, Andy’s been leaning back toward specializing. His current favorite area is nephrology. Maybe someday he’ll come back to Schweitzer to take care of all the kids at the University Hospital with chronic renal failure.
While in deep sleep during the early-morning hours of Wednesday, November 12, 1986, after nearly two weeks of maternity leave, Amy Horowitz spontaneously ruptured her amniotic membranes and immediately went into labor. Larry, awakened by the rush of warm amniotic fluid that engulfed the bed, immediately jumped up and started to get dressed. They briskly walked the two blocks from their apartment to University Hospital, stopping a few times along the way when the contractions came. Amy was admitted to the labor and delivery suite in active labor. She delivered her second child, a perfectly formed, beautiful boy, just before eight o’clock in the morning. Amy and her son, who was named Eric, stayed in the hospital for three days and were then discharged to home, to spend the next six weeks together until Amy had to return to work.
I spoke with Amy last week. She told me that she can’t believe how quiet and well-behaved Eric is. Apparently he never fusses, he rarely cries, and he demands almost no attention. A typical second child! Amy also told me that Sarah loves her baby brother and wants to help with his care whenever possible. “Her biggest goal in life right now is to carry the baby around,” Amy said. “But since she weighs about twenty-five pounds and Eric already weighs about twelve pounds, it doesn’t look like that’s ever going to be possible.”
Since her return from maternity leave, Amy has worked very hard and seems to have a serious, no-nonsense attitude about her responsibilities. And her reputation has changed with this apparent change in attitude. I was talking with Eric Keyes and Enid Bolger, two of the chief residents, about Amy last week. Amy was in the emergency room and had just called up to tell them about an adolescent with DKA [diabetic ketoacidosis] whom she apparently had managed superbly. Enid said, “I never worry when Amy’s down in the emergency room. She’s got a good sense about things. She knows what to do, and when she’s in the ER, I know I don’t have to worry.” Amy’s becoming a mother for the second time has apparently caused her to do a great deal of growing.
And what of Mark Greenberg? Of all the people in the internship group, he’s probably the one least changed by his transition to junior residency. He’s still making everybody laugh. But he has become a leader, which is what a good resident needs to be.
There is another thing that has changed in Mark’s life. In July, a few of the house officers were invited to Mike Miller’s summer house on Candlewood Lake in Connecticut. Because of Mark’s childhood friendship with Mike, he and Carole were invited to come. In the afternoon, Carole and Mark got into Mike’s rowboat and rowed out into the middle of the lake. When they stopped, Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a jewelry box. From the box, he produced a ring. And then he asked Carole to marry him. Old cynical Mark, proposing marriage in probably the most romantic way possible. Carole accepted the ring. They plan to be married this coming summer.