Lessons From My Father

Spring 2005 was the first major period of uncertainty in my life. I was in my final semester of high school and experiencing a growing apprehension about leaving my family to attend college on the other side of the country. That April, our family accompanied my father, Dr Michael Wayne Shannon, on a business trip to India. Soon after returning, I developed progressively worsening myalgias, neck stiffness, and fevers. My parents brought me to Boston Children’s Hospital, where my father was the Chief of Emergency Medicine. In the corner of the emergency bay stood my father, his measured demeanor belying his concern. He and his colleagues agreed that I would need a lumbar puncture. He calmly explained what the procedure entailed. One of his emergency pediatric fellows would perform the procedure, but he would be by my side for its entirety. The fellow made several unsuccessful attempts before passing the spinal needle to my father’s senior colleague. He was also unable to extract fluid. Finally, my father decided he would make a final attempt. He removed his impeccably tied bowtie, rolled up his sleeves, prepared for the procedure, and with one attempt achieved a champagne tap. My father died suddenly on March 10, 2009, at the age of 55. He succumbed to a massive pulmonary embolism after returning home from a tango festival with my mother, his favorite dance partner and the love of his life. At … Address correspondence to Evan Michael Shannon, MD, MPH, Division of General Internal Medicine and Primary Care, Brigham and Women’s Hospital, 1620 Tremont St, Boston, MA 02120. E-mail: eshannon2{at}bwh.harvard.edu