I love fountain pens, but I'm far to busy for the regular ritual of cleaning, filling, etc. Most of my day is spent scrawling notes or typing on a keyboard. But there is one task for which only a fountain pen will do.
I've lost a number of patients lately. Most were in hospice, all were elderly, but it's always tough. I take care of my patients until they die, including hospice care, so I often get to follow them on the journey from health to death. Sometimes, great debility and dementia is a step on that journey. I've taken to writing short notes to the spouse of the deceased, to acknowledge the death, let them know I'm available, and remind them that I knew the patient on a personal level and appreciate the loss of a person, rather than just a patient.
I just can't type a letter like that, and using some plastic throw-away pen doesn't seem appropriate. I take a nice piece of office stationary, dip my pen, and write. After signing the letter, I turn it and blot it on another sheet.
The subtle smears that are left by my mediocre penmanship create a clearly personal document, separating it from a generic communication.
There really aren't many more important tasks. I don't mind brushing off my quirky 1957 Pelican once in a while. One must always use the proper tool for the occasion. While a patient lives, a stethoscope, clean hands, and a penlight are indispensable. After they are gone, only a fountain pen will do.

Mark Hoofnagle has a MD and PhD in physiology from the University of Virginia, and is now a general surgery resident. His interest in denialism concerns the use of denialist tactics to confuse public understanding of scientific knowledge.









Comments
I don't know why, but this post touched me deeply. I admire your for your humanity, thoughtfulness and ability to see the people that are the patients.
Posted by: Martin | June 18, 2008 2:47 AM
Your decency and compassion are endearing, thousands of miles away, across time, theological differences and cyberspace. I salute you, Doctor!
Yocheved
Posted by: Yocheved Golani | June 18, 2008 9:16 AM
Thank you. For what you do and for telling us about it. Amid so much horror it is good hear of something so humane.
Posted by: Lindata | June 18, 2008 9:39 AM
Wow. After a grim morning's reading on the blogosphere, I was hoping for one piece of good news to cheer me up, and this post fit the bill! Thank you.
Posted by: Melissa G | June 18, 2008 11:30 AM
Well done. Ever consider teaching med school?
Posted by: James Gordon | June 18, 2008 1:37 PM
That is one of the most truly moving things I've read in a long time. Every doctor should be so wonderfully compassionate.
Posted by: themadlolscientist | June 18, 2008 2:13 PM
There's no good way to break the news to someone that their loved one is dead, but there are certainly better ways and worse ways.
When my husband died, I really appreciated the doctor's forthrightness about what was happening, so that I could be quickly prepared for what needed to happen. His organs were donated, and someone else got a second lease on life as a result.
I agree that a lovely vintage fountain pen seems perfect for the followup letter. While I prefer my modern Stipula and Visconti pens, sometimes a vintage pen is the only thing that seems right.
Posted by: Deirdre Saoirse Moen | June 19, 2008 3:51 AM
I went through a fountain pen stage in high school. I agree about the sentimental value of nothing but ink and point, though I ultimately gave them up as the ones I had were always intensely leaky and needed a wipedown every time I took the cap off. But let's be honest -- there's no romance to a ten cent stick pen; I'd go so far as to say that they're such inconsequential devices that probably no one has ever actually run out the ink supply in one before it got lost or broken.
I had a chance not too long ago to grab a disposable fountain pen (Pilot makes them -- they're sort of like a liquid marker, but with the felt point replaced by a capillary channel to a fountain pen nib -- interesting design). I'd used them before, but I'd failed to note that for disposable pens, they're quite expensive. I gave it a pass and decided to wait till I had a bit more disposable income.
Posted by: Brian X | June 20, 2008 4:41 PM
Thank you for your work and your post. You are a kind and compassionate physician. I don't know if I could survive the emotional roller coaster you must go through. God bless you in your work.
Posted by: Denise C | June 23, 2008 8:40 PM