Choices
A physicians journey on two continents
by
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The day had come. It was January 2nd 1972, the day after Putte’s 3rd birthday. Equipped with my passport, immigrants visa, very little money and with my bags packed the entire family boarded our beat up old Chevrolet Impala and drove to the local airport in Malmo. There I was to take a short flight to Copenhagen with connection across the Atlantic to New York. Little did I know what was in store for me.
We said a sweet goodbye and I took off, leaving Barbro and the children behind. It was going to be her job to pack up and sell the house, and ship our furniture and belongings to a home we still had not identified. It would be until March 16 before they joined me. During that time much happened, most of it very different to what I had expected.
I arrived in New York in the early evening, although with a six-hour time difference it was already late for me. I went through immigration where I was escorted to a small office. I was finger printed and photographed and then given my Green Card, indicating that I was now a legal permanent resident of the USA. As I have mentioned I was not interested in any other form of visa. I wanted to be able to choose by myself. It would be virtually impossible to do something like that today.
It was raining, cold and dark. I took a taxi in to Manhattan and Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, my new employer. I told the taxi driver how happy I was to be back in New York where people were so friendly. He thought I was making fun of him and almost stopped the car to let me off!
It was a Sunday but John Lewis was supposed to wait there for me and show me to an apartment on 71st Street, which would be my temporary home. As I arrived he was in emergency surgery. I finally found someone who could find keys and help me to the apartment. By this time it was around eleven o’clock local time and 5 in the morning in Sweden. I was exhausted. The apartment was dark and cold and very sparsely furnished. There were no sheets, no towels, and no blankets. I had to sleep. I pulled my trench coat over me and promptly went to bed. An hour or two later John came and knocked on the door but I had to ask him to leave, I was just too tired.
The following morning I went to the hospital to inspect my new work place and occupy my office. I met the office personnel, my colleagues, the Residents and Fellows; we made rounds on John’s patients and went to the lab, where I would do my research. But, there was no office space prepared for me, not even a desk. At this point I was seriously disappointed in how, in my mind, poorly they had prepared for my arrival. I started to doubt my decision. But there was much more to come, I was about to learn how different an environment I was in the hard way. I have said many times that had I known in advance what obstacles I was to face, I would probably not have chosen to come or I would have come in a different capacity such as a Fellow in training to learn the system from the ground up, instead of on the job as an attending member of the faculty. John believed I would not accept that kind of position. Learning on the job has its disadvantages. It is one thing to visit an institution and give a few lectures but coming to stay, as an additional staff member is completely different. You are no longer the celebrated guest, you have become a competitor.
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About the Book
The day had come. It was January 2, 1972, the day after Putte’s third birthday. Equipped with my passport, immigrant’s visa, very little money and my packed bags, I took off leaving the family behind. It would take until March 16 for them to join me. During that time much happened, most of it very different to what I had expected. It was a bold step, but I was young, ambitious and adventurous.
I arrived in New York in the early evening. It was raining, cold and dark. I took a taxi to Manhattan and MSKI, my new employer. I told the driver how happy I was to be back in the city where people were so friendly. He thought I was making fun of him and almost stopped the car to let me off.
I was shown to an apartment on 71 Street. my temporary home. It was dark, cold and sparsely furnished. No sheets, no blankets or pillows, no towels. It was around eleven o’clock but to me it was five in the morning. I was exhausted. I pulled my trench coat over me and promptly went to sleep, ignoring John’s knocks on the door.
The following morning I went to the hospital to inspect my new workplace, occupy my office and meet my new colleagues. But no space had been prepared for me, not even a desk. I began to doubt my decision. But there was much more to come. I learned the hard way that coming as a visitor and give a few lectures is one thing. Coming as an additional staff member is completely different. Instead of being a celebrated guest, I was now a competitor…
About the Author
Staffan was born in Lund, Sweden, and spent his preschool years on the west coast in the shadow of World War II, watching the bombing of Denmark from behind boarded windows. Although Sweden remained neutral and did not participate in the war, those were difficult times with limited supply of food and other life necessities. At age seven, he moved with his parents to Stockholm, where he lived through high school. Staffan was a loved but unplanned child. He was a descendant of a very prominent academic family but always felt he was not expected to amount to much. His great ambition was to prove everybody wrong.
He became an excellent student athlete and showed great talent as an aspiring actor. The theater was for a long time his dream career. He was successful, but eventually medicine became his calling. Being a doctor would promise a more certain livelihood.
He was admitted to medical school at the University of Lund at nineteen. We follow his life as a student, actor, and young doctor rapidly climbing the academic ladder to become a cancer specialist. Since childhood, Staffan had a maybe somewhat naive fascination with America, the land of possibilities in the far west. When he, at age thirty-five, received an invitation from New York City to be a visiting professor at Cornel Medical School and Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, he convinced his wife that they should accept and emigrate with their three children.
Life in the United States had many unexpected surprises, both professionally and personally, some difficult to overcome. Competition was fierce; friends turned to foes. He learned to navigate past most obstacles, and after six years as a professor at the University of Miami, he founded Gynecologic Oncology Associates in the city as the first board-certified specialist in private practice in Florida and lived his American dream. He takes us on his journey with humor, sincerity and a good portion of cynicism of certain aspects of life in America and it’s fragmented health care.