At Lucens, we believe that every medical professional has a unique story worth sharing. Our "Behind the Scrubs" series pulls back the curtain on the diverse journeys of remarkable individuals in healthcare. Through candid interviews, we explore the challenges, triumphs, and pivotal moments that shape careers in medicine.
These stories embody the Lucens philosophy: there's no one "right" way to build a fulfilling medical career. By showcasing various paths, we aim to inspire, guide, and connect the next generation of practitioners. Whether you're a student, resident, or established professional, these insights offer valuable lessons and fresh perspectives on the ever-evolving world of medicine.
Join us as we go "Behind the Scrubs" and discover the human stories that make medicine such a rewarding field.
How did your family influence your early interest in medicine?
I grew up in the Midwest, influenced by two very unique grandmothers. My paternal grandmother was an osteopathic physician, a rarity for women in the 1940s. She specialized in malignant diseases before oncology was even recognized as a field and was deeply involved in what we now call immunology. On the other hand, my maternal grandmother, a Cherokee half-blood, practiced traditional Native American healing using herbs and plants. She was my source of comfort and the one I went to for love and healing.
These two grandmothers represented the worlds of science and intuitive healing, and I found myself standing in the middle, trying to understand how to combine their wisdom. From a young age, I knew I wanted to help people in a unique way, though I wasn’t sure how that would take shape.
What challenges did you face in deciding to pursue a career in medicine?
Growing up, I struggled with severe obsessive-compulsive disorder and attention deficit issues, which made me doubt my ability to become a physician. In high school, I was fascinated by science—particularly marine biology and ecology—and initially rejected the idea of pursuing medicine because I didn’t think I was smart enough. I went to Florida to become a marine biologist, but soon realized that while it was a great hobby, it wasn’t a fulfilling career.
I still wanted to be a scientist, so I turned to immunology, what was then called microbiology, and completed my dissertation with funding from the Army.
What led you to reconsider medicine after initially pursuing marine biology?
During my scientific studies, I discovered that I didn’t want to spend my life figuring out how the universe works. The Army, which had funded my education, introduced me to the concept that you don’t always need to know how things work; you just need to know if they work and how to use them to achieve goals. This idea really resonated with me and made me see medicine as a blend of science and art, focused on practical outcomes rather than purely academic pursuits.
Why did you ultimately choose osteopathic medicine?
My eclectic upbringing and the influences of my grandmothers eventually drew me to osteopathic medicine. The history of osteopathic medicine, particularly the work of Dr. A.T. Still, an Army medical officer who believed in blending natural and interventional studies, deeply resonated with me. So, I decided to go to osteopathic school. Once I was there, I knew I had found my place. For me, medicine became about helping people by activating their own healing capacities, using a broad set of tools ranging from lifestyle changes to medical interventions.
"Medicine is like a river—constantly changing. The key is learning how to navigate the boat so it doesn’t tip over."
How did your journey in the Army begin, and how did it shape your career?
I joined the Army right after high school in 1975, just as the U.S. was pulling out of Vietnam. At a time when joining the military wasn’t popular, I was fascinated by the idea of serving my country and because of the experiences that a military career would bring. Growing up in the Midwest with limited financial support, the Army offered me a four-year ROTC scholarship, which paid for my college education.
I started as a marine biologist, not knowing that the Army was responsible for much of the country’s waterway management, through the Corps of Engineers. But after realizing marine biology wasn’t the right fit for me, I pivoted to immunology, an area the Army was keenly interested in, especially for research on vaccinations and bio-warfare.
What led you to pursue a career in medicine after starting as a researcher?
During my time in graduate school, I worked on a top-secret project aimed at developing drugs that could help soldiers survive in a nuclear environment. My research contributed to a project involving radioprotectants, that would later become a cornerstone in oncology. Despite this success, I realized that pure science wasn’t for me. I couldn’t see myself spending my career in a lab. The Army had funded my education, and I was on track to serve as a researcher in the military. But I decided that I wanted to go to medical school instead.
Much to my wife’s surprise—she was not thrilled about marrying a doctor—I applied to medical school, and the Army agreed to fund that as well.
How did you decide on oncology as your specialty?
After 12 years of Army training and education, I started my medical residency on active duty. Early in my internal medicine residency, I realized that general internal medicine wasn’t for me. The idea of seeing 15-20 patients a day and simply prescribing drugs didn’t resonate with me. I knew I needed to specialize. My background in immunology pointed me toward three options: oncology, rheumatology, or infectious disease.
Given the overwhelming challenges of HIV at the time, I chose oncology. It allowed me to use my skills in a holistic way, incorporating prevention, treatment, and palliative care. Plus, my grandmother’s work in oncology had always fascinated me, and I realized I could bring all my interests together in this field.
What advice do you have for young doctors choosing their specialty?
One of the best pieces of advice I can offer is to find a specialty that you can see yourself being passionate about for the long haul. Medicine evolves, and so do the challenges within each specialty. For example, when I started, HIV was a death sentence, and now it’s a manageable chronic condition. In oncology, you have to be comfortable with the reality of death and dying, as well as the challenges of helping patients who are in pain and suffering. If you’re not comfortable with these aspects, oncology might not be the right fit for you. But if you are, it’s an incredibly rewarding field.
You also need to be able to explain complex medical concepts to your patients in a way they can understand. My Army training taught me how to do this effectively, and it’s a skill that has served me well throughout my career.
"Find a specialty that you can see yourself being passionate about for the long haul."
What advice would you give to young doctors who might feel that they didn’t have the same unique upbringing or experiences as you?
Medicine is an unbroken line that stretches back thousands of years. It’s a tradition of people who have volunteered to help others in pain, trauma, and illness. My grandmother used to remind me when I complained about the changes in medicine that every generation faces its own challenges. When she was a young doctor, they didn’t have penicillin or CT scans, and people were dying from things we now easily treat.
Medicine is like a river—constantly changing. The key is learning how to navigate the boat so it doesn’t tip over. You talk to the old sailors, learn the skills, and have faith that you can weather the storms. This is where mentorship is crucial.
How do you think about mentorship in today’s medical landscape?
Mentorship is something that has been lost in some modern medical practices. In the past, you would have mentors who were 10, 20, even 30 years ahead of you, guiding you not just in medicine, but in how to be a physician.
When I joined Kaiser Permanente in 2001, you had to be mentored by a senior doctor for the first three years—not to learn medicine, because you already knew that, but to learn how to be a physician, how to balance everything. That’s one of the reasons I’m excited about Lucens, because mentorship needs to be brought back.
How did you learn to communicate effectively with patients, especially when delivering difficult news?
I wasn’t always a good communicator. I remember a sentinel event during my third year of medical school. I was tasked with telling a patient that he had HIV, which was a death sentence at the time. I did it so poorly that it haunted me for the rest of the day.
My wife, who is a psychiatric nurse, told me, “Oh, hell no. If your medical school isn’t going to teach you how to communicate with love and concern, you’re going to learn it yourself.” She introduced me to neuro-linguistic programming, and I worked hard to improve my communication skills.
I learned from nurses and took classes that others might have made fun of, but I knew how important the power of words and language is in healing.
What do you see as the biggest challenges for the next generation of doctors, and how can they prepare?
The challenges young doctors face today are different, but they’re not new. Burnout, work-life balance, and the emotional toll of being a physician have always been there. My generation and the one before me didn’t have balance; it was work or nothing. That model burned us out. Doctors in my generation have the highest rates of divorce, death, and substance abuse. That’s not a sustainable model.
The new generation needs to focus on building resilience, understanding that medicine is not about being perfect, but about being good enough to survive 40-50 years in this profession. It’s crucial to maintain your well-being because you can’t give what you don’t have. If you’re not well in mind, body, and soul, it will affect your ability to heal others.
"The new generation needs to focus on building resilience, understanding that medicine is not about being perfect, but about being good enough to survive 40-50 years in this profession."
How do you see the future of medicine evolving with the new generation of doctors?
I’m excited about the future of medicine because I believe the next generation will make it better, more inclusive, and more transcendent than ever before. They’re facing challenges my generation never imagined, but they’re also better equipped to handle them. Medicine is a growing, evolving profession, and my role now is to help the next generation continue to advance it.
It’s a journey—a marathon, really—and while I might retire one day, I’ll never stop being engaged with medicine. Even now, I still read oncology journals, I still talk to practitioners. Medicine is something you commit to for life, and I hope to help make it better for those who come after me.
How important is mentorship at different stages of a doctor’s career, especially later on?
Mentorship isn’t just for young doctors; it’s a lifelong necessity. Early in my career, I had mentors who taught me how to be a conventional oncologist. But as I grew older, I realized I needed a different kind of guidance—mentorship that could help me transition into the next phase of my life. When you’re deeply attached to your work, it can become an obsession that holds you back from growing into new roles. For me, it was about letting go of being a full-time oncologist to make space for mentoring, writing, and other passions.
Even at 66, I still need mentorship to help me navigate this new chapter. It’s about continuously evolving, not just in your career but as a human being.
"Mentorship isn’t just for young doctors; it’s a lifelong necessity."
How do you approach learning and growth at this stage in your career?
Medicine is a lifelong journey of learning and growing. Even now, I’m learning how to be a mentor, how to adapt to civilian life after a career in the military, and how to be the best version of myself. I take classes, listen to other mentors, and seek out new experiences that push me to grow.
I believe that to be a good mentor, you need to have gone through the struggles, the challenges, and the suffering that come with a long career in medicine. You can’t just step into it after a few years out of training—you need to have lived it.
That’s why I’m always striving to learn more, to improve, and to better myself, because medicine isn’t about being perfect; it’s about continuous growth.
