How well do you know your doctor?

General practitioners have always fascinated me.  They are supremely adept at diagnosis.  They seem to have seen everything.  The difference is often what we call “bedside manner”.  It’s seldom actually at the bedside. It may be sitting on a stool or standing in the hallway.  But it’s all about how they make you feel.

Dr. Bradley Harris is as good as they get.  On the first appointment I had with him, we discovered our mutual love of adventure and sailing. And he’s used that subject to distract me while he’s kept me in good health for almost 30 years.  I consider him a friend who gives excellent medical advice.  He feels like a friend.  When I’ve run into him on the street or at the marina, it’s always a casual greeting and then we start talking about the Olympics or sailboat racing or mountain climbing.  And he never forgets to ask about Jane.

Sometime along the way, I found out that Brad has about 3,000 patients.  That astounded me.  It didn’t make me feel less special.  It actually made me feel more so.  I doubt that I can name 3,000 people I know AND their families.  Let alone begin to know how they’re feeling and what’s going on in their lives.  What an incredible gift.

Last November, we were shocked to get a letter from Brad saying that he needed to step back from his practice to deal with a serious personal health issue. He was in a battle with melanoma and he needed to focus his energies on healing the cancer. Somehow we all feel that our doctors never get sick.  We should know better but we don’t.

Brad is still fighting the battle and has now told us all that he must retire from his practice to continue the fight.  The retirement party that the Polyclinic held for him last night was something to behold. It was originally to be held at the new downtown facility but the response was so great that it had to be moved to a nearby hotel ballroom.

The party was scheduled to begin at 5:30, so Jane and I decided to go early. A lot of good that did us.  The parking lot at the medical center was full and the hotel’s lot was quickly filling up.  The streets were clogged in every direction. Streams of people jammed the sidewalks leading up to the hotel.  As we waited for the stoplight, one woman turned to her friend and said, “I don’t think you rate in this town unless Brad Harris is your doctor.”

Before 5:30, the line was around the room, up the stairs and out the door. So many people were there that we knew. Hundreds and hundreds of people. Everyone wanted to have their moment with him. And he vowed to stay until he’d talked to every one of us.  That has to be the true definition of “bedside manner”. And such a testament to this great man.

I will miss Brad as my doctor.  But he will always be my friend.  And he will beat this disease. I told him we were thinking about another sailing adventure and that he would have to be on at least one of the legs.  His eyes lit up and he said, “I’ll be there.  Count me in.” What a remarkable human being.

"Call me Yuchan"

Today, Yuichiro Miura, better known as “the Man Who Skied Down Everest”, is the oldest person to climb the world’s tallest mountain. At 80 years of age, he has accomplished a feat that is mind boggling to most of us. I have been privileged to call this remarkable athlete a friend for many years.  My personal congratulations have gone out to him.

In the 1980’s and 1990’s, my world was filled with the mountains. Interest in climbing was growing and expeditions to the Himalaya were plentiful.  I first met Miura-san on a quick helicopter ride from Snowbird ski resort to a somewhat remote peak nearby in the Wasatch Mountains. We were celebrating Dick Bass’s Seven Summits achievement as the first person to climb the highest mountain on each of the seven continents. Miura-san had been on several of the “Seven Summits” climbs and I had been promoting the adventure since Bass and Disney President Frank Wells came up with the idea a few years earlier.

Miura-san is a happy man.  Great smile. Lots of energy. He’s been an athlete and an exceptional skier all his life. His company, Miura Dolphins, is all about health, exercise and sports directed at children.  They golf, hike, surf and ski all over the world on special trips that the company organizes.

When I started the Mountain Summit event, bringing world-class climbers and adventurers together with mainstream media to talk about risk and challenge in the mountains, Miura-san was one of the first to say he wanted to be a part.  We started on Mt. Rainier, went on to Snowbird and, when Robert Redford found out, he asked us to come to Sundance.  We did and had a great event there with a full complement of adventurers from Reinhold Messner and Lou Whittaker to Lynn Hill and, you guessed it, Yuichiro Miura.

It was at Sundance that Miura-san first said to me that we should hold the event in Japan. We talked a lot about it and he offered the infrastructure of Miura Dolphins to help organize it.  The Tokyo Summit was the crowning glory.  It was broadcast on national television across Japan.  We went to Mt. Fuji, which I’m convinced that Miura-san still climbs for light exercise like we, in Seattle, do Mt. Si on the weekends.

He was a great mentor to me on Japanese culture and business practices.  I’m fascinated by them and got very involved during the year of advanced planning that we did for the Summit. And my chop sticks acumen improved immeasurably. The Japanese are so respectful and gentle in their treatment of each other.  Their business practices are such a relief from our fast-paced, winner-take-all approach. It’s frankly good for some westerners and frustrating to others.  I like it.

Nicknames are an interesting part of the culture there.  They are used very sparingly and you have to earn the right to call someone by their nickname.  Without permission, it’s definitely a no-no to call someone by anything but their given name.

I had known Miura-san for years before the Tokyo Summit.  I had gotten to know his children, especially Gota, a former Olympian who went to college in Utah, and his daughter Emili, a journalist and experienced businesswoman.  You immediately know they are his children.  They both exude his stature...as do all his children.

We had been in sessions at the Summit for a couple of days, drafting a declaration that was eventually read into the famous Earth Summit in Rio.  I had said “Miura-san” a hundred times during the discussions when a folded piece of notepaper was passed around the table to me.  In perfect block printing, it read “Call me Yuchan”.  I had arrived.  It was a special moment for me and one which I cherish today. Using that nickname felt like such an honor.

I wish my friend Yuchan a continuation of his long life, relish his growing number of accomplishments and hope that all the dreams still in his head come true.  He is someone I greatly admire and respect. My life is better for knowing him.