Mike’s Story

My (Mike’s) story is about the demise of my career. To tell it briefly, a patient complained to the State Board of Medical Examiners (SBME) about a patient encounter. SBME performed an ‘investigation’ which included hiring a fellow Pediatrician whose testimony concluded that my patient management erred in 5 ways and that I should be reprimanded. The facts are that I saved this patient’s life, kept them out of prison, and acted above medical standard in providing excellent and appropriate medical care.

My attorneys advised me that the truth was inconsequential in the face of conflicting testimony from the other doctor and that SBME would prevail. The facts were irrelevant. At a minimum, they would impose a stipulation against my license. All insurance companies would see the stipulation as a black mark, even the most minor, and immediately drop me from their plan. I would be out of business as a Physician. Therefore I should present no defense, and I should walk away from my career. I continue to stand by my testimony; I provided exemplary care and still lost my license, my passion-filled career, and my business. The press and social media then had a field day trashing my name as I provided no defense they might understand.

Was I involved in ministry? Yes! I participated in over 30 Medical Mission trips to slums, ghettos, and barrios around the world and volunteered in homeless shelters in my city for years. My slogan was “Love God. Love People.” My office was designed to welcome uninsured, underinsured, and indigent care, and I sought to embody God’s grace to Muslims, Hindus, and Christians. All were welcome in my practice, it was my ministry to a hurting world.

My “ministry” exit was sudden, traumatic, shaming, and unbelievable. First came anger and denial, “There is no way this is true.” It got worse and worse as my business crumbled, the bills mounted, and the vultures latched on to every morsel they could grab monetarily. My partners were turned to scorn, misunderstandings became lies built upon lies with my inability to defend myself publicly or silently.

My own team of lawyers told me to walk away and not fight. “You are done. Now work to contain the damage; shut up and go away.” The hospitals, trusted peer committees, national boards and insurance companies all sent me letters disowning me in disgrace. The false narratives led to raised eyebrows and turned backs. People turned away from me in stores, at church, in community centers, and even at our local pool.  My kid’s high school said I was not welcome to set foot on campus and could not attend any of my kid’s activities. It was an unbelievable disgrace, with financial ruin all on top of the emotional hurricane. The dreams of a new chapter in my next career doing overseas medical missions with my wife evaporated.

It took months to circle the wagons, contain the damage, and settle into a deep, silent black hole of dashed dreams. Days were filled with flashbacks of people’s faces and ongoing patient ministry that I was no longer part of. The longing for what I had lost was the biggest heartache.

Slowly I attempted to get back on my feet, only to face new obstacles at every step. Resumes rebuilt and updated, hours combing job site engines. I sent hundreds of applications with hours spent on each cover letter that never got a response. I would start each day by opening rejection letters. I had decades of experience in motivational interviewing, nutritional counseling, scientific writing, and public speaking. No one was interested. Scientific, medical, biology, medical, vaccine, research, and pharmaceutical sales roles responded with silence.

My network of friends offered verbal support but could never provide a meaningful career offer.  Colleagues offered jobs at minimum wage. I took several of those to help pay the bills, but they were never long-term solutions.

One volunteer job I was excited about ended when I was sat down by the 3 Christian brothers on the management team who said, “We just googled your name. You can no longer work with us. If the competition finds out about you, it could destroy our Company. If you desire to stay with us (as an unpaid volunteer), you must remove your name from all publications, websites, and affiliations and never attend a conference or symposium. You can only operate like ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ You must remain behind the curtain and never be seen.”

I finally took a minimum wage job in construction/home remodeling with a Christian friend who had remodeled our downsized, outdated house. We were forced to sell the nice family home and downsize to get out of expensive house payments. As a 57-year-old construction newbie, I became the grunt doing all the heavy lifting and drudgery that would have worn out a 20-year-old body.

What this job did do was get me up in the morning. It got me out of the house and away from the shame-fueling stream of daily rejection, moving me down a path of growth. This was critical for my sanity, my sense of self-worth, providing a much-needed distraction. Exhausted from labor, I could start to sleep a bit. I was no longer cursed by the constant shame, memories, and jarring encounters with people from my old life.

I attended 2 years of Catholic Biblical School, hoping the degree would build a bridge to a new career in ministry or non-profit work. Instead, I found that my reputation and age made this dream impossible. No volunteer position at any agency, church, or non-profit ever brought hope. Doors remained closed.

I have given up on any meaningful career path in my existing skill set and wheelhouse. My plethora of scientific, medical, people-focused, and mission-oriented skills were all put to pasture. I have given up on the dream that a passion-filled career is just around the corner. I am to be forever on the sidelines, banned by corporations to live as the ‘Wizard of Oz.’ My tarnished name in the age of Google seems impossible to overcome. I am condemned in social media and the public eye. No employer, friend or colleague is willing to take the risk. I am labeled a liability.

Resiliency? Phoenix rising? Is that even possible? The biggest factor that has held me together with duct tape and twine is my wife of 30 years. Her belief and support have been constant and unwavering. She has been my non-stop cheerleader.

The second factor has been my kids’ faith and support. My siblings put me out in the wash, but my kids love me endlessly. Despite my shaming all of them deeply, their love and continued goofiness has been constant and unwavering. We remain tight.

Thirdly, I continue to lean on the Lord. My faith is STRONGER than ever. I am attached to the vine. I am in the fiercest storm with gale-force winds and crashing waves. With my eyes fixed on my Savior, the wind and waves are inconsequential. I connect with all my previous life-giving Christian groups. I can’t stress that enough. My local church, my network of Marked Men for Christ, That Man Is You, the Gathering of Men, and the prayer warriors at Intercessors of the Trinity. This community was crucial and in hindsight, the best thing ever. People who truly knew me before recalled the real me and my GOOD inner character. I was still welcomed. I still belonged with them. I could still play in their sandlot. I was never rejected. I belonged!

It has been 6 years since my implosion. At first, I had to hunker down and simply survive the tidal wave of disaster. There was no coming up for air as the damage came in wave after wave. After a while, I began to pop my head up like a prairie dog coming out of his burrow. I surveyed the damage and threw my efforts down different pathways. I didn’t know they would all be dead ends, but I aimed high. My ambitions were lofty and filled with hope and promise. I got back on the horse every time despite the rejections. Slowly I aimed lower and pulled my ambitions back. I was desperate for a win. Even small wins were crucial—so needed, so life-giving. My construction job lasted 3 years. Small wins became more frequent with each new skill I learned. My coworkers became a new family. My cloak of shame slowly became a cloak of dignity.

I remain energetic, healthy, and optimistic. I have 20 more hopeful years of productivity. Next step? I am now 2 years into college-level woodworking and sculpture classes. I plan to reinvigorate while finding sanctuary in the Arts.

With this new adventure, I plan to bless others with artistic endeavors and religious works of beauty. I have worked with wood since building a tree house at age 10, re-flooring the family house at age 14, and crafting numerous furniture pieces over the years. I love the craft, and I am developing my new skills and rediscovered forgotten talents.

This adventure started as a hobby and a new way to pass the time, but I expect it to blossom with a purpose that I cannot even imagine now. I doubt it will ever generate the income I enjoyed before, but I am at peace with that. I have found woodworking and college to be filled with a fresh breath of networking, collaborating, and dreaming, as well as providing a new team to join.

The old self is gone. My new self is blossoming. Grip it. Rip it. The rocket is launched.