TheBanyanTree: Good Bye Friend

[Jim Miller]

Dr. William F Stifter was a Cardiologist in Spokane, Washington. Dr. Stifter
was my cardiologist and friend. He was killed in a small airplane accident
last Saturday, May 17, 2008.
http://home.nps.gov/applications/digest/headline.cfm?type=Incidents
<http://home.nps.gov/applications/digest/headline.cfm?type=Incidents&id=3875
> &id=3875  

 

When I was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy in 1995, my first cardiologist
failed miserably to appropriately communicate with Linda. She promptly fired
him and looked to nurse friends for a referral. Only one name was offered;
William Stifter. Fortunately for me, his practice was accepting patients. We
appreciated him immediately. He listened closely and began a prescribed
course to keep me alive. During most of the 8+ years proceeding my
transplant I saw him every one to two months. In all those visits we became
friends. I advised him on an appraiser for a commercial investment. He told
me about his teen age daughter with Leukemia. He never discussed the details
but kept me informed of her progress as she sought alternative treatment and
eventually became cancer free without the needed bone marrow transplant.
While he had always allowed me generous supplementation, he became more of
an advocate after that.

 

Whenever Bill came into the room, he greeted me with a warm caring smile.
This was his nature. Regardless of how busy his schedule was, he never
rushed our appointments; always answering every question thoroughly until I
was satisfied. Anytime I was hospitalized, it was comforting when he walked
through the door. I anticipated his visits. Once when I was admitted through
emergency and my health had declined substantially, he smiled and asked why
I waited so long. I smiled and told him it was testosterone induced denial.
Over the years he probably examined me 100 times. Each time he would
conclude by having me lie back and turn my head left while he placed his
stethoscope over my carotid artery.  I can hear his voice with those words
repeated exactly the same each time; "please don't talk, it will hurt my
ears". I always chuckled to myself as I had learned the first time not to
talk. It was an endearing habit.

 

For over a year prior to my transplant, my care was transferred to the
transplant team and I saw Bill infrequently except for necessary tests. On
the night of my transplant, after receiving verification that the heart was
acceptable, Bill called to congratulate me while I was being prepared for
surgery. Post transplant I would see him once a year as he would conclude my
day of annual testing and evaluation with a heart catheterization. 

 

For 12 years, I entrusted my life to Bill Stifter M.D. A couple of years
ago, I mentioned rumors of his retirement to him. He said, "I can't retire,
because I wouldn't get to meet people like you". Bill was my age, 64. We
shared the same birth month, January. He saved my life, yet lost his in good
health. I frequently think of my heart donor, and now more frequently. He
was 44 and in excellent health. Neither man expected to die when they did.
If you look in today's obituaries, you will find someone younger than you. I
need to ask God, "who picks these dates"? 

 

Bill's last words to me were following my annual heart tests last September
as he handed me a chart of the results. "It's Perfect."

 

Bill Stifter was my friend. I will miss him.