He's Gone

At 8:30 last night I got the news. It came from somebody who knew me quite well and knew my hardcore loyalty to Apple, enough to call me a "Steve Jobs Apple toady bootlicker." A good friend, yes. He told me: Steve Jobs was dead.

Wow. I remember when John Lennon was killed and I'll remember getting this news.

Steve Jobs has been part of my professional and personal lives for 25 years. I got my first Mac in 1986, during my second year of medical school. It was a huge decision, and even with a student discount a tremendously expensive thing to do. It was a decision I've never regretted. I still have that machine.

The day I went to pick up my new machine they held a special event at the university hockey stadium. The whole place was filled with aisles of Macs stacked six feet high. People were lined up around the block to pick up their new machines. The only time I've seen anything like that was at the opening of the first Apple store in 2001. I was standing in line at Tyson's Corner, fortunately not at the end which curled around the second floor and down the stairs. The waiting time to get in was rumored to be three hours, and there was security in place to make sure the store stayed below the fire marshal's limit of people in the store.

The Apple years without Steve Jobs were grim. A series of five CEO's successively drove the company into the ground. The quality of the machines dropped, there were recalls for broken parts, bad monitors, stuff that never would have happened under Steve. (OK, the Apple Newton eventually became the prototype for the Palm Pilot---using an operating system designed by former Apple engineers---but it never quite got it right.)

Then he came back. Just in time, like Superman coming back just as the bomb is about to explode, to save the world. We got that weird-looking first-ever all-in-one pyramidal iMac. We got OS X, one of the most stable operating systems I've ever used. We got iPods and iPhones and iTunes (without which our My Three Shrinks podcast would never have happened). We got the iPad. We got the software. It just happened.

So here we are. We three Shrink Rappers all use Apple products. We edit podcasts with Garage Band, have iPhones, use MacBooks. Our iPhone edition of Grand Rounds was one of most popular posts (complete with clickable iPhone buttons). Technology for non-geeks.

There's not much else to say. If there is, the Twittersphere has it covered---it's been nothing but mourning for hours after the news broke.

He's gone.

Goodbye.

And thanks.

Guest Blogger Dr. Jesse Hellman: More Thoughts On Rachel Aviv's Article on Involuntary Treatment

Jesse has wanted to do a guest blog post for a while now, and The New Yorker article finally got him blogging. I wrote a brief post yesterday, but he does a more thoughtful analysis of this complicated and provocative issue. Clink is off somewhere.. I am looking forward to hearing her thoughts after the holiday.
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In “God Knows Where I Am” Rachel Aviv sees the protagonist Linda’s
refusal of treatment as an expression of her illness. The moral
impasse she describes for our profession, though, is real: denial of
the need for treatment, or of one’s illness, can be an expression of
that illness; the refusal of treatment can also be a valid position
which we understand and support.

Mental functioning can be variable, at times better and at times
worse. At times the craziest thoughts are held in check, or do not
manifest themselves, while at others they hold total sway. The
underlying assumptions of our society are shared by us, and these
shape our reaction to the illness that Linda has. Other societies,
with different traditions and philosophical underpinnings, are
comfortable with very different stances.

Before Linda was discharged from the hospital the staff did everything
they could to dissuade her, and to provide for her safety. She
rejected every effort to provide housing and support. The hospital
argued that she was too sick to make decisions which even included not
allowing the staff to notify her sister and daughter. After her death
the family sued, stating that insufficient effort had been made to
protect her. The hospital then argued she was not sick enough to
justify stronger measures. What was true?

When we look at a complex issue, or event, we naturally can only see a
part, and our response is shaped both by what we see as well as the
assumptions we carry. What weight to we place on independence versus
the rights of others? What extrapolation can we make to an unusual
thought, in that do we see it as the harbinger of insanity or of
artistic creativity? Do we value religious musings or find them
suspect?

Aviv lets us see that while a part of Linda’s functioning might have
been creative, artistic, perceptive and so on, it was increasingly
shaped by an imagination which was not tempered by reality. It was as
if she was in a dream but could not awake, a dream which increasingly
dominated the most important parts of her ability to survive.

So what is the proper role of society when confronted by such illness?
What if her fantasies had shifted from thinking spies were all around
her to imagining the world could only be saved if she were to shoot
her congresswoman?