If you have always wanted to build your own house as I did, I can guarantee from my experience of building 2 houses and an office I have run into every snafu that one could possibly encounter in the process.
Every project that I am about to describe had it’s own unique situation.
All the projects start out with a budget that no matter how prudent one wants to be rapidly multiplies like adding yeast to dough.
The house I decided to build was really unique and since it was designed by a friend who was an architect, he also agreed to supervise the construction since we had engaged a contractor who was doing the job on a material cost plus basis. That entailed me paying all the cost of material at his wholesale discount and he added a percentage for his services as general contractor. In that way, I would save substantially by being able to buy material at his discount. What sounded very good, turned out to be a bad deal I later was to learn.
I had secured a building loan from the bank that was paid out in disbursements, one half to frame out the project, one fourth to do finish work and the balance on their final inspection. The bank officer who handled my loan dispersed the funds as each of these marks was reached.
Once the footings were dug and poured every Thursday the contractor would come by to get a draw for labor, the architect would check the work and give me an ok to pay him. On a couple of occasion his laborers told me they weren’t being paid. Things were going well and it was time to order framing lumber which I paid the lumber yard directly. Much later I found out from one of his workers that the contractor was ripping me off on some of the lumber and using it to build another project on my dime. As the job progressed more shady stuff evolved. I found that the reason he was able to price the job so reasonable was he was using scab labor and stealing my stuff.
One time I was watching them put in the ceiling which was tongue and groove planks that had to be secured with special rod nails that were driven in with 8 pound hammers that cost 80 dollars each. As I watched, a worker carelessly dropped one in the mud never to be found again.
Next came the dealing with inexperienced subcontractors on a job this big and detailed. I had to have 600 amp electrical service because I had zone heating and cooling plus a swimming pool heater. all had to be run in conduits below ground. The contractor had never wired a house with more that 200 amp service, it so happened his son was working as a helper and told me.
Than the pool deck was to be smooth stones floated in concrete and it took 3 tear outs and pours ( that’s 3 concrete trucks loads @ $700/load ) to get it right because the concrete contractor had never poured and floated stone. I found out later that Portland Cement Co. had a special consulting service to advise how to do custom effect jobs like I had.
It goes on! The contractor told me that the area where I was building had a sanitary sewer system and hooked into the line it turned out it was a storm sewer, and after 2 days in the house sewage backed up into all the toilets and we found out we had to have a septic system dug in the front yard; all this costing me more money. Two final things happened that almost made me kill him. One was the foyer which was to be 3 sq foot marble slabs laid on mud ( a concrete base). It was so heavy I had to have the floor reinforced to support the load. Lastly the roof was to be redwood shake shingles, but the pitch was so steep that no one locally would do the job. Luckily some hillbillies were passing thru town and needed work and damn if they didn’t do a perfect job. They were all over the roof like band of monkeys. When the house was finally finished the cost had doubled the projected estimate. Even so it turned out to be a really a great house and I know that my kids loved it. Eventually I lost it to divorce and taxes but it was some house with it’s conversation pit for adults and areas for kids and guests. I don’t for a minute regret building it. I had two more building projects that brought me their share of grief and disappointment………. READ ON!
The next project was an office building that was (a co-adventure) with my friend the architect. He and his partner had gotten a huge job to design twin high rise low income housing units that necessitated their firm expanding and I was looking to move to another office location. So we decided to invest in building shared offices. I would occupy the 1st floor and they would have the basement and 2nd floor. The building was very contemporary having 16 panes of golden glass/ side surrounding a mansard type 2nd floor.
My space on the 1st floor would have no windows for patient privacy (OB/GYN’s). The basement having the architect’s firms draftsmen and utilities, the floors connected by an elevator. It was in a prime location and the bank was eager to lend us money in 1970.
This time we put out bids on the job and hired a general contractor to supervise the construction. He was good, but unfortunately he got hit in the ear by a nail on the job and contracted meningitis and died leaving us to run over on cost and delayed completion; this forced us later to lose business and ultimately lose the building to foreclosure. The plus was that the building was so avant gard that people drove by just to see it; but occasionally vandals shot out the window panels that cost $600 to replace. Another bitter lesson learned!
The last project was completing a house that my parents had started before their untimely death. Because the project was 3/4th complete and to sell at that stage would have been a big financial loss. I decided to complete the house which was agreeable with my wife since the design was something both of us could accept. The architect was my same friend but the contractor was the owner of the housing addition and builder. It turned out that he was inept and his sub-contractors equally so, the back patio had to be re-poured because the water drained into the house not away from it. And the drive way had to have a retaining wall built so we could access to the garage….more cost over-run There were so many faults in construction I had to legally dismiss him from the job and hire someone to correct the botched work. More time and more money. And to this day I can still see evidence of the workmanship that was so poorly done I get sick whenever I pass the house that I long since sold. As a house it was a great place for my daughter Becky to grow up in but the fact that it had a pall of sadness over it was always depressing to me, knowing that this was a dream house of my tragically deceased parents.
I know that I will never build another house, but the experience I have had in doing so are priceless and the journey of learning made the trip worth it.
What is money for unless we can use it to accomplish some dreams?
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Kids and Dogs
It seems that I had my share of kids and with them came a steady assortment of dogs and events which intertwined into a litany of tales.
Robbie my oldest proceeded to lose his glasses at 4 y/o on a trip to the St. Louis Zoo he had had them only a week, I was only making $70mo and the glasses cost $50. When we lived in our first house he was playing in the basement and was told not to run; he immediately bounced off the steel support post splitting his head open and required a trip to the ER for sutures. Kenny and Robbie were playing with Titan our German Shepard, with their friend. Titan grabbed him by the arm and tore a plug out trying to keep them from running from him. When we were building the new house it was muddy and we chained Titan on the pool deck, one of the workers teased Titan and underestimated the length of the chain, this ended in he being bitten. I had to get rid of my favorite dog because of this.
The house I had designed had a special area for kids, the boys had a room Kenny and Timmy in trundle beds and Robbie had a loft space. One night they had a sleep over and I went upstairs to see why I kept hearing a thump noise that shook the house, to find them taking turns jumping from the loft trying to touch a huge globe light suspended from their ceiling and bouncing off the beds. Ask them what happened to them?
Another time I came home late from a delivery and they were all sleep, I went to the refrigerator to drink one of my DO NOT TOUCH dad’s Nehi lemon soda. to find it all gone. I yelled for everyone to come downstairs NOW! Diane, Michelle and Timmy were small and Michelle they called “Niagara Falls” because she cried at a raised voice. Robbie and Kenny said Michelle drank it Dad. I said Michelle reach in the refrigerator and she couldn’t touch the shelf so I sent the little ones back to bed, and said you boys asses are mine and proceeded to dispense a whipping they still remember.
But we had a West Highland White Terrier named “Popcorn” who the kids loved. While chasing them onto the school bus at the end of our driveway, the bus ran over him as it pulled away, to the horror of all the kids on the bus. I remember to this day driving down the drive way trying to signal the driver to pull off with all these little faces staring out at smooshed “Popcorn” on the pavement. I had to go back and scrape him up with a snow shovel before going to work. Then we had “Popcorn II” who came to live with me in my apartment and bit the maintenance man so I had to get rid of him. Next we had “Tinkerbell” who I bought for my new wife and she ended up giving her to her 2nd son since he didn’t want to live with us.
Then we moved to a house and got a Norwegian Elkhound “ Weegie” who would run away in a minute. I paid so many rewards for his return that I finally took his collar off and said if he was so dumb he can’t find his way home good riddance. This was right after he jumped up and pulled off some short ribs of beef I had just grilled. After that I got “Honey” who was a favorite of my wife and who loved to roam at night, but he tangled with a raccoon and loss big time. Then we got a little Shih Tzu we called “Sushi”, she was 8 weeks and went for her shots, my vet being the one that Titan had run out of the house years ago. This was Becky’s dog and that night the dog was kind of feverish from the shots and Becky asked “ Daddy is my dog going to die” I replied “ No way baby, dogs feel bad after getting shots” but she decided to sleep on the floor in her sleeping bag with him in our room. During the night, I had my hand kind of slung over the bed and heard this whimpering and the puppy was licking my hand, In the morning, I got up to get ready for work and didn’t see her. So I searched around the apartment we were living in. Becky was sound asleep in her sleeping bag. So I looked everywhere during the search I thought I saw her under Becky’s bed but decided it was a teddy bear and got a broom to kind of prod it out, until I saw it was “Sushi” cold, stiff and dead.
When my Becky and my wife saw her they went berserk, crying and saying the doctor had killed their puppy by over dosing the shots. I was about to dispose of her down the trash chute when they called the vet’s emergency phone number. Now it was chaos and he said bring him to the office on my way to work. So I put him in a big zip lock bag and dropped him off to get an autopsy. They have never forgotten this nor forgiven me for taking him to this vet. We got a replacement for “Sushi” and as fate would have it, she slipped out on a frigid winter night and she got loss in a snow drift and froze to death. Between my kids mischiefs and dogs death’s, I have had my run of bad luck.
My present dog is Alvin who was named after the one of the chipmunks and is now 10 years old and holding……..good for him and me and us!
Robbie my oldest proceeded to lose his glasses at 4 y/o on a trip to the St. Louis Zoo he had had them only a week, I was only making $70mo and the glasses cost $50. When we lived in our first house he was playing in the basement and was told not to run; he immediately bounced off the steel support post splitting his head open and required a trip to the ER for sutures. Kenny and Robbie were playing with Titan our German Shepard, with their friend. Titan grabbed him by the arm and tore a plug out trying to keep them from running from him. When we were building the new house it was muddy and we chained Titan on the pool deck, one of the workers teased Titan and underestimated the length of the chain, this ended in he being bitten. I had to get rid of my favorite dog because of this.
The house I had designed had a special area for kids, the boys had a room Kenny and Timmy in trundle beds and Robbie had a loft space. One night they had a sleep over and I went upstairs to see why I kept hearing a thump noise that shook the house, to find them taking turns jumping from the loft trying to touch a huge globe light suspended from their ceiling and bouncing off the beds. Ask them what happened to them?
Another time I came home late from a delivery and they were all sleep, I went to the refrigerator to drink one of my DO NOT TOUCH dad’s Nehi lemon soda. to find it all gone. I yelled for everyone to come downstairs NOW! Diane, Michelle and Timmy were small and Michelle they called “Niagara Falls” because she cried at a raised voice. Robbie and Kenny said Michelle drank it Dad. I said Michelle reach in the refrigerator and she couldn’t touch the shelf so I sent the little ones back to bed, and said you boys asses are mine and proceeded to dispense a whipping they still remember.
But we had a West Highland White Terrier named “Popcorn” who the kids loved. While chasing them onto the school bus at the end of our driveway, the bus ran over him as it pulled away, to the horror of all the kids on the bus. I remember to this day driving down the drive way trying to signal the driver to pull off with all these little faces staring out at smooshed “Popcorn” on the pavement. I had to go back and scrape him up with a snow shovel before going to work. Then we had “Popcorn II” who came to live with me in my apartment and bit the maintenance man so I had to get rid of him. Next we had “Tinkerbell” who I bought for my new wife and she ended up giving her to her 2nd son since he didn’t want to live with us.
Then we moved to a house and got a Norwegian Elkhound “ Weegie” who would run away in a minute. I paid so many rewards for his return that I finally took his collar off and said if he was so dumb he can’t find his way home good riddance. This was right after he jumped up and pulled off some short ribs of beef I had just grilled. After that I got “Honey” who was a favorite of my wife and who loved to roam at night, but he tangled with a raccoon and loss big time. Then we got a little Shih Tzu we called “Sushi”, she was 8 weeks and went for her shots, my vet being the one that Titan had run out of the house years ago. This was Becky’s dog and that night the dog was kind of feverish from the shots and Becky asked “ Daddy is my dog going to die” I replied “ No way baby, dogs feel bad after getting shots” but she decided to sleep on the floor in her sleeping bag with him in our room. During the night, I had my hand kind of slung over the bed and heard this whimpering and the puppy was licking my hand, In the morning, I got up to get ready for work and didn’t see her. So I searched around the apartment we were living in. Becky was sound asleep in her sleeping bag. So I looked everywhere during the search I thought I saw her under Becky’s bed but decided it was a teddy bear and got a broom to kind of prod it out, until I saw it was “Sushi” cold, stiff and dead.
When my Becky and my wife saw her they went berserk, crying and saying the doctor had killed their puppy by over dosing the shots. I was about to dispose of her down the trash chute when they called the vet’s emergency phone number. Now it was chaos and he said bring him to the office on my way to work. So I put him in a big zip lock bag and dropped him off to get an autopsy. They have never forgotten this nor forgiven me for taking him to this vet. We got a replacement for “Sushi” and as fate would have it, she slipped out on a frigid winter night and she got loss in a snow drift and froze to death. Between my kids mischiefs and dogs death’s, I have had my run of bad luck.
My present dog is Alvin who was named after the one of the chipmunks and is now 10 years old and holding……..good for him and me and us!
Housing in Indianapolis
After the relief of my passing my boards and draft cancellation, I was in pretty good spirits and looking forward to a fairly normal life of work and family. My wife and I started to look around for a larger house now having 5 children. There were several new sub-divisions being built that were attractive to us. I had always wanted to build a house like my parents had and harbored a secret longing to be an architect, so for years I had clipped and sketched plans for a house of my dreams. At this stage I felt that I needed to put that dream on hold and just buy a larger house.
There were some houses located in a very nice addition and we went to check them out after we decided that one would fit our needs we made an offer to buy and the builder informed us that he didn’t have any more for sale. I was suspicious and asked my friend Tom, who was white, to inquire and indeed he was told there were houses available. This was in 1967 and I decided to file a suit against the developer for housing discrimination, so I called the director of the local Federal Equal Housing Office who I knew. Her response was you have a case but when it’s over you will have wasted a lot of time and money and end up with no house. So as much as I hated to, I didn’t pursue it.
As fate would have it, I got a settlement from an auto accident in St. Louis occurring some years before which provided me with money to buy a lot and that gave me the opportunity to plan to build a house. Luckily, I had a close friendship with a young architect who had recently formed a firm and over the next 3 years we worked on my dream house. You can buy a house that has already been built and you can pick through a builders plans and build what you see or you can hire an architect and pour over your ideas and his designs and build what is basically yours. In a house that you pick out, you are given few choices on what goes into the construction, but in the house you build everything from brick to door knobs flooring to windows is chosen by you and based on your desires and pocketbook. The land I had purchased was an acre on a very busy boulevard and I had him design this special house with no windows fronting the street, instead everything was open to the back with an enclosed swimming pool and the house was so unique that many thought it resembled a church.
It had an area for adults and one for the children and another for guests. If I do say so, it was really a house I loved and I had some good times there, but some dark days lay ahead.
Unfortunately I had undertaken a lot on my plate, I needed to move my office since I was not interested in buying the building the practice was in.
So my friend the architect and I agreed to partner on a building, housing both our offices. During the construction of the building the general contractor developed meningitis and died delaying occupancy which led to my not having an office for 6 months. This necessitated my working out of rented space at the hospital and caused me to lose significant income. When I finally was able to occupy the space I had to borrow money to catch up on my mounting debts. All this happened during the passage of Medicare and their insurance carrier Blue Cross-Blue Shield was always 3-4 months delinquent in reimbursing services. I was being squeezed by debt and slow collections which eventually led to the building partnership dissolving because the architects were also overextended. We loss the building in a foreclosure and I was forced to sell my house because of tax issues. Also on a personal note, I was separating from my wife and a divorce was in the offing so I had to develop a plan to regroup.
One of the hardest things to happen was leaving the kids, but the solitude and peace I was able to get by moving out to a studio apartment was enough to energize me and I reveled in it. I felt some how that I could regain some control of my life even though I was dealing with a contentious divorce.
I had engaged a tax lawyer and his recommendation, which now I would have never followed, was concede to the IRS. That strategy kept me hostage to them for the next 25 years.
With all my financial problems, I decided to give up Obstetrics in my practice because I was having difficulty enjoying that part of my work and the patients were starting to piss me off. The recent trend toward catering to the patients request for care had me getting angry at the patient, so I felt they deserved a doctor that favored delivery care plans, which I did not. So I decided to do strictly office Gynecology and GYN surgery.
If I could practice Obstetrics in a way I thought was practical, I probably would not have given it up. It was my belief that the normal OB should be taken care of by Nurses ( midwives or nurse practioners) and complicated cases by the Obstetrician. In recent years, this paradigm has come to pass.
So like so many practical things in my life, I was ahead of the curve.
Here is a sample of a day in my practicing without the office that was being built. The nurse was hooked into the answering service which received the calls from patients as before; emergencies, deliveries and surgeries were done in the hospital. Office visits were done in rented space in the hospital clinic which I paid a nominal fee to use. I stayed in touch by pager from wherever I was. This arrangement lasted about 6 months and I managed to preserve my practice. I moved into the house and office in 1970 and ended up loosing both in 1973.
During this time, I met a young woman who I later married that was a great help in my gaining my equilibrium. She had recently divorced and it seemed that our lives just kind of came together at the right time. I was trying to take a path that would bring some meaning and happiness to my life.
I was in a loosely structured men’s club that really only did social things, like go to big sporting events and on a trip to a Chicago Bear game, I invited her to the city. Over that weekend, I found I could relate to her and she to me what we wanted in a relationship and from there we began what became a journey that has not always been happy but has been to say the least an interesting love affair. It did produce my 6th child Rebecca, who I named after the heroine in the novel “Tom Sawyer” a favorite of mine. When all is said and done Rebecca has turned out to be the most perceptive and supportive of my children maybe because she has always lived with me. I have no doubt that all my other children love me she and I have a special bond.
There were some houses located in a very nice addition and we went to check them out after we decided that one would fit our needs we made an offer to buy and the builder informed us that he didn’t have any more for sale. I was suspicious and asked my friend Tom, who was white, to inquire and indeed he was told there were houses available. This was in 1967 and I decided to file a suit against the developer for housing discrimination, so I called the director of the local Federal Equal Housing Office who I knew. Her response was you have a case but when it’s over you will have wasted a lot of time and money and end up with no house. So as much as I hated to, I didn’t pursue it.
As fate would have it, I got a settlement from an auto accident in St. Louis occurring some years before which provided me with money to buy a lot and that gave me the opportunity to plan to build a house. Luckily, I had a close friendship with a young architect who had recently formed a firm and over the next 3 years we worked on my dream house. You can buy a house that has already been built and you can pick through a builders plans and build what you see or you can hire an architect and pour over your ideas and his designs and build what is basically yours. In a house that you pick out, you are given few choices on what goes into the construction, but in the house you build everything from brick to door knobs flooring to windows is chosen by you and based on your desires and pocketbook. The land I had purchased was an acre on a very busy boulevard and I had him design this special house with no windows fronting the street, instead everything was open to the back with an enclosed swimming pool and the house was so unique that many thought it resembled a church.
It had an area for adults and one for the children and another for guests. If I do say so, it was really a house I loved and I had some good times there, but some dark days lay ahead.
Unfortunately I had undertaken a lot on my plate, I needed to move my office since I was not interested in buying the building the practice was in.
So my friend the architect and I agreed to partner on a building, housing both our offices. During the construction of the building the general contractor developed meningitis and died delaying occupancy which led to my not having an office for 6 months. This necessitated my working out of rented space at the hospital and caused me to lose significant income. When I finally was able to occupy the space I had to borrow money to catch up on my mounting debts. All this happened during the passage of Medicare and their insurance carrier Blue Cross-Blue Shield was always 3-4 months delinquent in reimbursing services. I was being squeezed by debt and slow collections which eventually led to the building partnership dissolving because the architects were also overextended. We loss the building in a foreclosure and I was forced to sell my house because of tax issues. Also on a personal note, I was separating from my wife and a divorce was in the offing so I had to develop a plan to regroup.
One of the hardest things to happen was leaving the kids, but the solitude and peace I was able to get by moving out to a studio apartment was enough to energize me and I reveled in it. I felt some how that I could regain some control of my life even though I was dealing with a contentious divorce.
I had engaged a tax lawyer and his recommendation, which now I would have never followed, was concede to the IRS. That strategy kept me hostage to them for the next 25 years.
With all my financial problems, I decided to give up Obstetrics in my practice because I was having difficulty enjoying that part of my work and the patients were starting to piss me off. The recent trend toward catering to the patients request for care had me getting angry at the patient, so I felt they deserved a doctor that favored delivery care plans, which I did not. So I decided to do strictly office Gynecology and GYN surgery.
If I could practice Obstetrics in a way I thought was practical, I probably would not have given it up. It was my belief that the normal OB should be taken care of by Nurses ( midwives or nurse practioners) and complicated cases by the Obstetrician. In recent years, this paradigm has come to pass.
So like so many practical things in my life, I was ahead of the curve.
Here is a sample of a day in my practicing without the office that was being built. The nurse was hooked into the answering service which received the calls from patients as before; emergencies, deliveries and surgeries were done in the hospital. Office visits were done in rented space in the hospital clinic which I paid a nominal fee to use. I stayed in touch by pager from wherever I was. This arrangement lasted about 6 months and I managed to preserve my practice. I moved into the house and office in 1970 and ended up loosing both in 1973.
During this time, I met a young woman who I later married that was a great help in my gaining my equilibrium. She had recently divorced and it seemed that our lives just kind of came together at the right time. I was trying to take a path that would bring some meaning and happiness to my life.
I was in a loosely structured men’s club that really only did social things, like go to big sporting events and on a trip to a Chicago Bear game, I invited her to the city. Over that weekend, I found I could relate to her and she to me what we wanted in a relationship and from there we began what became a journey that has not always been happy but has been to say the least an interesting love affair. It did produce my 6th child Rebecca, who I named after the heroine in the novel “Tom Sawyer” a favorite of mine. When all is said and done Rebecca has turned out to be the most perceptive and supportive of my children maybe because she has always lived with me. I have no doubt that all my other children love me she and I have a special bond.
The Draft and the Boards
When I got my draft notice, I called my man Cup in Pontiac Michigan to commiserate with him about my plight and he said “ bye mutha fucka I’ll take a drink of Jackie D in your memory.” Man. that was cold but payback can be a bitch! He just didn’t know it at the time.
When I was ordered to report for my induction physical, I knew that I would need to start planning for my family, the house and dealing with the patients in my recently purchased practice. There was a lot to be done and I didn’t know yet where I might be assigned or my military medical role. My Aunt lived in DC and I decided to fly there to see if I could make some contacts with the Army on what my options were before any orders were cut.
I purposely went to the Dept of the Army and asked to see anyone who could give me information on when I would be called and where I might be sent. The information desk sent a Colonel to take me back to his office and as we walked thru the corridor that was lined with huge photos from Vietnam wounded soldiers and crashed helicopters, I sensed that I had to be careful in what I wanted to get from him.
When we got to his office there was a map of the world and his junior officers were making assignments literally by throwing darts at the map. I knew than that I was on thin ice. So I explained that I really didn’t care where I was assigned all I wanted was a heads up so I could have time to make plans for my family and practice. He said as soon as I received orders to call him and he would tell me where and when I was going. I felt that was fair enough and thanked him and left. I got the impression that being in OB GYN was not to my advantage even though I was Board certified since that made me dispensable and I was probably ticketed to go to Vietnam, but at least I had a contact to call. It so happened that flying back, I was seated next to the Congressman A.J. from my district and he asked why was I in DC. I explained that they could draft me up to age 35 and he said he didn’t understand how they would take me with 5 kids, I agreed and we parted on arrival in Indianapolis. This was like in May or June the Boards had notified me I passed in April and I pretty much forgot about our conversation and went back to work.
Before I go into what transpired with the draft, I want to give you some background about the Boards. The American Board of Obstetrics and Gynecology gives an exam that consist of 2 parts after you have completed a residency. Part I is a written that’s taken 1 year after finishing and Part II is taken 1 year after passing the written. A case list of all hospital admissions ( deliveries, Gyn surgeries and Gyn medical cases ) for 12 consecutive months and documented by the medical record department and submitted for review by the Board. This list is scrutinized for trends in management, C-section rate and complications and is later used in the oral questions that are then directed specifically at you. My patient population and referral base put me in an outlier group when it came to a high risk practice (poor and Black, Eclampsias, 2 maternal deaths, etc). There was even the question of why I was doing so much obstetrics as a solo practitioner, remember I had taken over a two man practice with 30-40 deliveries/mo as apposed to their ideal of 15-20/mo. Lord help me on this! The Board pass rate was @ 79% for first time takers.
Because I was studying alone, It was impossible to do it at home because there was no where to go for quiet space so I used my office and read when attending deliveries at the hospital……..not ideal but I made do.
Beside the actual oral in which 3 examiners questioned you 3 on 1, there was a pathology practical where they gave you 5 path slides and a microscope and you had to make the diagnosis and then 20 color slides with various conditions depicted and you were quizzed on these by a solo examiner.
The exam was always given in November at the Conrad Hilton Hotel in Chicago over 5 days, the day you were scheduled was by names selected alphabetically. I was so prepared that I took my wife with me and the night before I hung out with a friend who took me to a big affair at a trade show and got me drunk. The next morning as I descended in the elevator, still with a slight buzz to the floor the exam was to be given, a fellow exam colleague entered and just before the door closed his wife kissed him as if he was going off to war. I said to myself, if things turn out to be that bad I’m glad I got tore up last night.
I was pretty confident especially about the pathology part because my Path rotation at Wash U was outstanding and though I had been out of residency 2 years the stuff I was seeing in practice had kept me sharp and staffing Methodist residents didn’t hurt any in keeping current with the recent literature. It’s pretty much accepted that text book knowledge is 5- 8 years out of date so reading journals is where the questions probably would originate and I was a journal junkie.
When I walked into the room and sat at my microscope and they handed me my 5 slides I was like B’rer Rabbit getting thrown in the briar patch. I was finished with the slides so quick I thought they may be tricks, I decided to sit in the room and let someone else leave first. There were two parts that gave me pause in Part II . One was a question on how I would handle a Diabetic in pregnancy, which I said I would refer because Methodist had Diabetologists on the staff so why would I try to manage one alone. And lastly a complication on my case list provoked an extended round of questions.
The case involved a patient that had an enormous ovarian cystic mass ( the size of a watermelon) that had attached itself to the ureter and pulled it out of it’s bed necessitating cutting it and re-implanting it in the bladder to preserve it’s vascularity. This was done after consulting an Urologist who assisted in the operating. In unison and individually they kept asking me “ you mean you cut the ureter.” After asking me this for like the umpteenth time, I said “ what would you gentlemen have done.” Under my breath I uttered “mutha fuckers” Their reply was “doctor, you may go!”
An IUSM classmate was taking the exam the next day and asked me to stop by his room and share some of the questions I had with him, When he opened the door he had books strewn everywhere in the room. I told him to pack up the books and for us to go down to the bar for a drink, since there was nothing more he was going to learn now! He also passed on the first try
In April 1966, I received my notification of passing and right after that good news came a brown packet from the Dept of Defense, 5th Army Headquarters, Chicago, Il. with instructions to reply within 10 days. ( these were the orders I so dreaded receiving ). They arrived on a Friday and I didn’t want to open them and spoil my weekend plus I planned to call the Colonel in DC to see what he might be able to find out about my assignment, maybe since I had passed my Boards I might get sent to a hospital where women dependents were treated.
On Monday, I had an early surgery and planned to call DC later in the day, delaying the inevitable as long as possible. During the operation I received a page to call my answering service right a way.
I asked the nurse to get the call for me and she said to call a Colonel Letrec in Chicago as soon as possible. I could barely finish the operation. I asked the resident to close the incision for me and went to the physician’s lounge to return the call, my hand sweaty as I picked up the phone.
When I connected with the Colonel his first question was had I opened my orders. I was hesitant to tell him I hadn’t because I was putting off the bad news, but I told him no. He said write across the front of the envelope “ DO NOT OPEN/ MY INSTRUCTIONS AND PRINT MY NAME AND SIGN IT ” and return to me. I immediately sped home, grabbed the packet and did as instructed and returned it as ordered. To this day I don’t know what the orders said or why they were cancelled nor do I care. All I know is that I was spared a trip most likely to Vietnam and my man Cup was drafted the next year to spend 4 years in Anchorage, That was his payback and I drank to that!
Having been spared, I decided to plan on buying a bigger house and getting some family things in order since I would turn 35 in February 1967 and be draft exempt, figuring things happen for a reason so make the most of them.
When I was ordered to report for my induction physical, I knew that I would need to start planning for my family, the house and dealing with the patients in my recently purchased practice. There was a lot to be done and I didn’t know yet where I might be assigned or my military medical role. My Aunt lived in DC and I decided to fly there to see if I could make some contacts with the Army on what my options were before any orders were cut.
I purposely went to the Dept of the Army and asked to see anyone who could give me information on when I would be called and where I might be sent. The information desk sent a Colonel to take me back to his office and as we walked thru the corridor that was lined with huge photos from Vietnam wounded soldiers and crashed helicopters, I sensed that I had to be careful in what I wanted to get from him.
When we got to his office there was a map of the world and his junior officers were making assignments literally by throwing darts at the map. I knew than that I was on thin ice. So I explained that I really didn’t care where I was assigned all I wanted was a heads up so I could have time to make plans for my family and practice. He said as soon as I received orders to call him and he would tell me where and when I was going. I felt that was fair enough and thanked him and left. I got the impression that being in OB GYN was not to my advantage even though I was Board certified since that made me dispensable and I was probably ticketed to go to Vietnam, but at least I had a contact to call. It so happened that flying back, I was seated next to the Congressman A.J. from my district and he asked why was I in DC. I explained that they could draft me up to age 35 and he said he didn’t understand how they would take me with 5 kids, I agreed and we parted on arrival in Indianapolis. This was like in May or June the Boards had notified me I passed in April and I pretty much forgot about our conversation and went back to work.
Before I go into what transpired with the draft, I want to give you some background about the Boards. The American Board of Obstetrics and Gynecology gives an exam that consist of 2 parts after you have completed a residency. Part I is a written that’s taken 1 year after finishing and Part II is taken 1 year after passing the written. A case list of all hospital admissions ( deliveries, Gyn surgeries and Gyn medical cases ) for 12 consecutive months and documented by the medical record department and submitted for review by the Board. This list is scrutinized for trends in management, C-section rate and complications and is later used in the oral questions that are then directed specifically at you. My patient population and referral base put me in an outlier group when it came to a high risk practice (poor and Black, Eclampsias, 2 maternal deaths, etc). There was even the question of why I was doing so much obstetrics as a solo practitioner, remember I had taken over a two man practice with 30-40 deliveries/mo as apposed to their ideal of 15-20/mo. Lord help me on this! The Board pass rate was @ 79% for first time takers.
Because I was studying alone, It was impossible to do it at home because there was no where to go for quiet space so I used my office and read when attending deliveries at the hospital……..not ideal but I made do.
Beside the actual oral in which 3 examiners questioned you 3 on 1, there was a pathology practical where they gave you 5 path slides and a microscope and you had to make the diagnosis and then 20 color slides with various conditions depicted and you were quizzed on these by a solo examiner.
The exam was always given in November at the Conrad Hilton Hotel in Chicago over 5 days, the day you were scheduled was by names selected alphabetically. I was so prepared that I took my wife with me and the night before I hung out with a friend who took me to a big affair at a trade show and got me drunk. The next morning as I descended in the elevator, still with a slight buzz to the floor the exam was to be given, a fellow exam colleague entered and just before the door closed his wife kissed him as if he was going off to war. I said to myself, if things turn out to be that bad I’m glad I got tore up last night.
I was pretty confident especially about the pathology part because my Path rotation at Wash U was outstanding and though I had been out of residency 2 years the stuff I was seeing in practice had kept me sharp and staffing Methodist residents didn’t hurt any in keeping current with the recent literature. It’s pretty much accepted that text book knowledge is 5- 8 years out of date so reading journals is where the questions probably would originate and I was a journal junkie.
When I walked into the room and sat at my microscope and they handed me my 5 slides I was like B’rer Rabbit getting thrown in the briar patch. I was finished with the slides so quick I thought they may be tricks, I decided to sit in the room and let someone else leave first. There were two parts that gave me pause in Part II . One was a question on how I would handle a Diabetic in pregnancy, which I said I would refer because Methodist had Diabetologists on the staff so why would I try to manage one alone. And lastly a complication on my case list provoked an extended round of questions.
The case involved a patient that had an enormous ovarian cystic mass ( the size of a watermelon) that had attached itself to the ureter and pulled it out of it’s bed necessitating cutting it and re-implanting it in the bladder to preserve it’s vascularity. This was done after consulting an Urologist who assisted in the operating. In unison and individually they kept asking me “ you mean you cut the ureter.” After asking me this for like the umpteenth time, I said “ what would you gentlemen have done.” Under my breath I uttered “mutha fuckers” Their reply was “doctor, you may go!”
An IUSM classmate was taking the exam the next day and asked me to stop by his room and share some of the questions I had with him, When he opened the door he had books strewn everywhere in the room. I told him to pack up the books and for us to go down to the bar for a drink, since there was nothing more he was going to learn now! He also passed on the first try
In April 1966, I received my notification of passing and right after that good news came a brown packet from the Dept of Defense, 5th Army Headquarters, Chicago, Il. with instructions to reply within 10 days. ( these were the orders I so dreaded receiving ). They arrived on a Friday and I didn’t want to open them and spoil my weekend plus I planned to call the Colonel in DC to see what he might be able to find out about my assignment, maybe since I had passed my Boards I might get sent to a hospital where women dependents were treated.
On Monday, I had an early surgery and planned to call DC later in the day, delaying the inevitable as long as possible. During the operation I received a page to call my answering service right a way.
I asked the nurse to get the call for me and she said to call a Colonel Letrec in Chicago as soon as possible. I could barely finish the operation. I asked the resident to close the incision for me and went to the physician’s lounge to return the call, my hand sweaty as I picked up the phone.
When I connected with the Colonel his first question was had I opened my orders. I was hesitant to tell him I hadn’t because I was putting off the bad news, but I told him no. He said write across the front of the envelope “ DO NOT OPEN/ MY INSTRUCTIONS AND PRINT MY NAME AND SIGN IT ” and return to me. I immediately sped home, grabbed the packet and did as instructed and returned it as ordered. To this day I don’t know what the orders said or why they were cancelled nor do I care. All I know is that I was spared a trip most likely to Vietnam and my man Cup was drafted the next year to spend 4 years in Anchorage, That was his payback and I drank to that!
Having been spared, I decided to plan on buying a bigger house and getting some family things in order since I would turn 35 in February 1967 and be draft exempt, figuring things happen for a reason so make the most of them.
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