Pulling Back the Curtain
Fred Schiffman, MD
In this edition, Fred Schiffman, MD, discusses his family-centered and patientcentered life in medicine. Dr. Schiffman is the Sigal Family Professor of Humanistic
Medicine, vice chairman of medicine, and associate physician-in-chief of The Miriam Hospital, as well as associate program director of Categorical and Preliminary
Programs in Medicine at the Warren Alpert Medical School of Brown University,
and Medical Director of the Lifespan Comprehensive Cancer Center in Providence,
Rhode Island.
The Schiffman clan at a recent family gathering
What was your first job?
One of my early jobs was as a
waiter at Camp Laurelwood, a
summer camp where my parents
worked. I waited on four or five
tables of screaming kids who
routinely spilled things, and on
hungry counselors who wanted
their food immediately. When I
was toiling as a server, I had to
simultaneously monitor the fracas
in the kitchens. The people who
worked in the kitchens were constantly fighting, throwing pots and
pans, and tossing ladles of boiling
hot soup at each other. Multitasking, avoiding danger, and being a
referee for fights were all in a day’s
work – it was probably the best
preparation I had for being an intern, resident, and chief resident.
These skills were polished during
medical school at Bellevue Hospital and as a house officer at Yale.
I also worked at a carwash,
where my primary responsibility
was to jump in cars as they rolled
out of the carwash in neutral
and put the brakes on to stop
them from rolling into the street.
I should mention that I didn’t
know how to drive at that point.
The people I worked with knew
this and would torture me. They’d
physically restrain me until the
car was about two feet away from
the street, when I’d have to race
to get into the car. That’s how I
learned aequanimitas, though. The
guys wanted me to get excited and
crazy, and I just wouldn’t do it.
Tell us about your family.
Who were your role models
growing up?
My mother was an immigrant
from Poland and my father was a
child of immigrants. They met at
the Educational Alliance, a Jewish
resettlement house, in New York’s
Lower East Side. My father’s family owned a shoe store in Brooklyn, and as with most immigrant
families, the way to success in
10
ASH Clinical News
America was through
education.
My father earned
a bachelor’s degree in
education from New
York University, then a
master’s degree in science, and then degrees
in advising and guidance counseling. For
most of his life he was
a coach and a teacher,
but he and my mother
(a nursery school
teacher) also worked at
a number of summer
camps as counselors,
leaders, and occasional entertainers.
My brother and I were
practically brought
up in these summer
camps. Being at the
camps was more than
just playing volleyball
and soccer, though.
We got to see our parents in action, guiding and shaping people’s
lives at an early age and helping
develop the careers of the collegeaged counselors.
My father first taught at Jefferson High School in Brooklyn,
where he had been a student. He
was then transferred to McKee
Vocational High School in Staten
Island – which was considered “the
country” back then – where he was
a basketball and track coach and
guidance counselor. During the
school year, my brother and I went
all over the city to watch his team’s
track meets where, again, we saw
him in action. Many of the kids
on his team were from troubled
homes and some had substance
abuse problems, but he got the
best out of them. He had done the
same for the wounded soldiers he
helped as a rehabilitation officer in
the U.S. Army. He took people who
were physically broken and built
them back up.
When my father passed away
in 1997, we sat shiva and received
condolence calls from so many
people who said, “Your dad transformed me.” I have letters from
some of the people he helped
rehabilitate in my files; I read
them and I say to myself, “I really
am my father’s son.” My brother is
too, for that matter. He is head of
pulmonary/critical care at Mount
Auburn Hospital in Cambridge
and has won a whole series of
awards for the teaching and care
he has provided.
What was your childhood
like?
My brother, Robert, who is 21
months younger than I, and I
had an idyllic life. My parents
were conscious about creating a
non-competitive environment
and valued us for who we were
as individuals. We were, and still
are, each other’s closest friend.
Actually, Robert didn’t speak until
he was almost three years o ld. My
parents thought he had some kind
“It’s essential
that we teach
younger colleagues how
to be not just
good doctors,
but good
caregivers.”
Fred Schiffman, MD
—FRED SCHIFFMAN, MD
of neurologic problem! When he
finally spoke, they asked him why
he hadn’t said anything, and he
simply replied, “Freddie speaks
for me!” I stopped a while ago,
though.
March 2016