I enjoyed reading in the CMAJ about Dr. Blum’s encounter with Dr. Wilder Penfield.1 I recall first seeing Dr. Penfield in the cafeteria at the Royal Victoria Hospital when I was a medical student (probably around 1970) and being somewhat awed by his presence. I had read The Second Career a few years before, and I also knew him by reputation, through the media.
The memory that stands out most vividly is of attending grand rounds in the amphitheatre of the Montreal Neurological Institute sometime during 1975–1976, when I was a final-year radiology resident. I arrived late, just as the “patient,” an elderly man with a protuberant abdomen distending his dressing gown, got up from his wheelchair and began to describe the histology slides of his own untreatable abdominal sarcoma. When I realized that the patient was Dr. Penfield, the enormousness of the moment struck me.
I admire Dr. Blum’s maturity and self-confidence as an intern, in having been able to sit down and carry out a personal conversation with Dr. Penfield. Only after several years of medical practice did I reach the point where I became at ease when dealing with famous people and was able to see the common humanity that we all share.