Eulogy for Dr. Abraham Sunshine, delivered on January 4, 2007 by his associate Mark Lipton, M.D., Clinical Associate Professor of Medicine, Division of Cardiology
Abraham Sunshine, MD
I have had the privilege of working with Al since I joined his practice 22 years ago. Having completed my Cardiology fellowship at NYU in 1985, I met Al and his partner Mort Leibowitz at their uptown practice of Internal Medicine and Cardiology to discuss a practice opportunity.
My first reaction to Al was one of complete intimidation – on the walls of his office was a large hand-inked copy of the Hippocratic Oath surrounded by the numerous patents and awards that he earned. His speech was direct and to the point, he exuded boundless energy and piercing intelligence, and it became immediately apparent that Al was an extraordinary individual.
After joining the practice, I became the beneficiary of Al’s mentorship and support. His passion for the practice of medicine was contagious, and his leadership by example served as the compass for my own development. He truly personified the consummate professional, treating rich and poor with the same commitment to clinical and humanistic excellence that has benefited literally thousands of patients.
Al taught me that Medicine is a noble calling, and that patient advocacy and dedication to excellence were critical core values. With the advent of managed care and the emergence of the new moniker “provider,” Al held steadfast in his belief that the sanctity of the physician-patient relationship must be preserved. Al was no one’s provider, he was their Doctor.
He was most selective in his choice of specialist referrals, and demanded the same level of excellence that he himself practiced. I fondly recall overhearing Al on the phone loudly chastising a consultant for not performing to his expectations. A universally held view by Al’s patients was that he always chose the best surgeons and specialists.
In addition to being a master of the science of medicine, Al’s keen insights into human nature provided me and my colleagues with invaluable lessons about the art of medicine – he was an accomplished student of the mind-body connection before it became fashionable for mainstream physicians to admit that such a connection was important.
When a patient outcome was not favorable, Al taught me to critically and dispassionately analyze the case and to learn from experience. Hubris and defensiveness had no role in this profession, as it interfered with a one’s effectiveness.
Al’s tutelage extended beyond the medical realm. His knack for business that made his clinical research unit a financial success led to many a frank discussion about medical economics, an area completely lacking in my own medical education. His wisdom and his concern for me and his other practice colleagues were so important in helping us during times of challenge and transition.
On a personal level, Al was always available and always a source of wise counsel. All of us here probably know that Al led several concurrent lives – physician, researcher, teacher, and businessman. Despite that, he was never too busy to field a medical or personal question, and it seemed that he had all the time in the world if you needed him. I remember bursting into his consult room during a heavily backlogged day, and he would relentlessly pursue an elusive medical reference on a vexing clinical issue. In many ways, Al served as a paternal figure to me – he delighted in whatever measure of success I achieved. When I became Chair of the Medical Board, his satisfaction that I followed in his footsteps as Board Chair was obvious.
In addition to being a friend, mentor, and colleague, Al was also my patient. Al’s courage, dignity, and adroit participation in his own care defy description. During the early phases of his illness, he persevered through significant drug adverse effects, rarely cancelling patients or missing other professional appointments. Even during the most trying times, he was generous of spirit and kind to staff and his team of physicians. His concern for the impact of his illness on Diane and his children overrode his personal medical plight. It was an honor to be among his physicians, and it was devastating to me to see this brave, talented, and beloved friend finally succumb to his illness.
Shortly after Al retired from the active practice of medicine, he gave me his Hippocratic Oath engraving, with the instructions that ultimately, this will be passed on to another physician who will take my place on retirement and who will abide by its message. It now hangs prominently in my office, and until my retirement, it will serve as a constant reminder and tribute to my friend, mentor, colleague, and patient – I will do my best to live up to his expectations.
