Happy Birthday, Love! (#1380)

Topics/tags: Michelle

Happy birthday, Love!

Or did I say that already?

In any case, today would have been your 61st birthday. Or perhaps you are now forever 59. Still, it’s your birthday, and I want to express my love and gratitude to you. You were a wonderful person, an amazing wife, and an outstanding mother. A great doctor, too. I’m glad we successfully raised three spectacular sons together.

Anniversaries and birthdays were usually the times we shared cards reflecting on the highlights of the past year and our hopes for the year ahead. But we spent the last year physically apart, and we’ll spend the next year that way as well. I can still talk to you, but I can’t hear from you. I’m glad we still see each other in my dreams. In any case, it’s pointless to write about trips we’ll take together or events we’ll host or attend. I just received an email message that Six is coming back to DMPA. Would we have bought tickets? Or was once enough?

I’ve also lost the opportunity to buy you physical gifts. Thinking about what you like was always fun and challenging. I didn’t always pick great gifts, and sometimes the best gifts were those that I purchased on a whim [1], but it was an activity I relished. As we determined, gifting things is my love language.

So what should I do for your birthday? I’m writing about you, but I do that every month. Or perhaps I write about myself. Let’s make this really about you.

Most of the people who read these musings know a lot about you. They know that you were kind. They know how much you loved your family. They know how much you cared about your patients. I still hear stories from patients about their experiences with you. My favorite are the ones that begin Michelle wasn’t my doctor, but …

Anyway, I thought my gift to you and them would be to write about some of your accomplishments that they may not know about. I’d have loved you whether or not you achieved these highlights, but they show just how special and smart you were. Many of these things also came to mind when I was interviewed about the new Dr. Michelle S. Rebelsky FGLI Lounge.

I’m still amazed that you worked in the research labs of one Nobel Prize winner (Charles Huggins) and one person who should have won the Nobel Prize (Janet Rowley). I wonder if one of the people you worked with will eventually win one. And you were a co-author on two papers on molecular genetics! It was amusing to see how that knowledge served you as we worked with geneticists to understand whether your cancer had a genetic component; your family tree was perfect! I suppose I shouldn’t call that amusing, but the geneticist’s amazement was great.

We were both surprised that you didn’t get into medical school the first time you tried [2], but it worked out in the end. Your experience in the Westbrook lab led to a a research position in med school, and that position paid your tuition (and more) until you found you didn’t have time to do both school and research.

You graduated from UIUC as a member of AOA (Alpha Omega Alpha), the medical honor society. Why didn’t you list that on your CV? In any case, it’s a sign that you are damn smart [3]. Your subsequent election as a Fellow of the American Academy of Family Practice is further evidence.

You completed another significant research project (at Dartmouth) while in residency. I’m still glad you found a way to do rotations in Hanover. And getting a first-author paper (on a preventative services office system) seems a harbinger of all the good reasons people have adopted EMRs [4].

You were also an early adopter of EMRs. I’m sorry that the one you started with didn’t survive. I’m still amused that they eventually gave up having you talk to the service techs and gave you the lead designer’s direct phone number; you knew too much for the techs to help you! I wonder what would have happened if you’d spent more time on this and your work with the rural ACO. But that would have meant giving up time with the family and time with your patients; those things were more important.

I was sorry that you found you needed to get an MBA so that you could provide counterarguments to the bean counters and ensure that your practice emphasized patient needs over some financial matters. Did you get elected to the honor society there, too? I think so. And, as in some of the other stories, there’s an amusing facet here, too. One of your early assignments was to review the books from your office. Working with your faculty member and Eldest Son, you identified enough underpayments that what you recovered paid for your degree in the end.

I think that’s enough for this year. Or at least for this musing. I was so proud of you! I am still so proud of you! And none of what I’ve written about matters when compared to your care for your family and your patients. But the achievements and events are still worth recalling.

In any case, I love you lots. And lots. And even more!

Happy birthday!

Postscript: I still have to track down your published poetry.

[1] I think, in particular, of the blanket you sat on the couch with and the bag that you carried to all your medical appointments.

[2] And yes, I’m sorry for my comments at the time.

[3] I know that each member of our family thinks they are the least smart of the five. I’ll still claim you’re smarter than I.

[4] Electronic Medical Records.

Version 1.0 of 2025-12-03.