I saw Dr Robbin on July 15 for a brief visit. I had only been to him twice in 1 1/2 years. I knew him from taking my mother to him for the last few years of her life. Each time I arrived, I had a joke for him and grew to truly respect him. One thing not mentioned in the obit was he was a true advocate for my mother, and I'm sure all his patients. He listened and acted on what he heard.
On July 15th, I told him what two visiting nurses who helped monitor my mother told me, regularly - that they had never dealt with a doctor like him. He would listen to their findings and concerns, and would discuss solutions. One nurse called him from my house with a potential problem, and was told by his staff member to call back at 4:00. She told me she would call at 4:00, but not to expect to hear from her because there would be no way he would be "available" to talk with her. Apparently, she'd been through that before with other doctors.
Just after 4:10 that afternoon, she called me to tell me that Dr. Robbin wanted me to bring my mother in the next day - anytime (he knew that it would take a while for me to feed, dress and get her down the steps, and out to the car). She would be the next patient. As a sub for the regular nurse, this was the first time this nurse had spoken to him.
She could barely talk in full sentences...she called at 4:00 and he seemed to be waiting to take her call. He spoke to her with total respect (apparently that's not the norm in dealing with doctors she had contact with regarding patients).
I had already heard similar statements from the regular visiting oncology nurse. He and his staff were great to deal with!
And as he was leaving the exam room that July 15th, I also brought up the last visit with my mother (she died in her sleep a few days later, most likely according to her urologist, from her severe kidney disease). He explained what he was going to do to remove an odd growth on the top of her had. She wondered out loud if getting a needle there on her hand would hurt. He said "no."
Having taken my mother to her many, many appointments with various doctors, I rarely would say anything unless I had to. But I did think to myself - How could it NOT hurt??
She questioned him how it wouldn't hurt. I waited for his answer also.
With no smile on his face, he replied that the injection wouldn't hurt because was going to first kick her on her leg, then give her the needle.
That did it - I lost it, burst out laughing. He slightly turned his head towards me and smirked. To make it even funnier, my mother wanted to know why he was going kick her. I laughed even more. She wasn't known for having a sense of humor.
So, on July 15th, after I retold that story to him, he stopped heading out the exam room door, thought for a brief moment, turned slightly towards my direction, gave me that same smirk, and told me that I would be surprised how many patients didn't think it was funny.
Well, he and I - and others were right. It was funny. Those that may have disagreed? Wrong!
Your loss can't be measured. You lived with, loved and knew the person.
As his patient for a very short time, and the daughter of his long time patient, I feel the the medical community lost a unique doctor and his patients will not easily find a comparable doctor to Dr. Robbin. Good, if not great ones are difficult to find.
Thank you for letting me share only some of my thoughts with you.