Doc, one More Thing, Shut the Door.

Doc, one more thing. Shut the door.

I had known this man for two decades and to say he was complex was unfair. He was a labyrinth of tangled self-induced misfortune. He was smart, he was proud and his choices were always poor.

His father loved him as only a father or a mother can. As a man I loved him. As a patient to treat, he was a pain in the ass. I knew Jimmy’s father first. His father would say, “That Jimmy is a good boy. It’s the alcohol, it ruins him.”