Summary
The current push by some pharmacists for a right not to fill certain prescriptions awakens memories of 1954, when my father was dying of cancer. I was a graduate student in New York, but I returned to my home in New Haven, Conn., to be with him.
As the end drew near, his suffering became intense, the pain harder and harder to control. He was being cared for by an extraordinary doctor: Seymour Lipsky, then chief of hematology at Yale-New Haven Hospital.See the full content of this document
Extract
A Prescription for Injustice
Lipsky did not have a private practice, but he had volunteered to take care of my father, telling us to call him whenever we felt we needed him. When we called, he came to the house.
My father's drug bills were being paid by the New Haven Cancer Society. We had long used a nearby pharmacy, but now the pharmacist grumbled whenever we came. Lipsky, new in the state, did not yet h...See the full content of this document
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