Legacy
A shadow selfie by Carey during a backpacking trip in southwest Utah.
“Long you live and high you fly
And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry
And all you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be “
~ Pink Floyd, Breathe
Carey -
What is a Legacy? At its simplest, it is the binding theme that connects how one spent their time alive with the impact one had on others. Most of us desire to have had a positive impact on the lives of others, and on the world in which we live. Yet one doesn’t write their own legacy - it is instead written by and through the lives of others.
If I were to select one theme about how I interacted with others, it would be in the role of teacher and educator. I could use cooking as an analogy. It is an act of love and respect - for the ingredients, planning, preparation steps and final presentation. But for cooking to really be an expression of love, you need to share it with others. Teaching, at its essence, is sharing with others. It is an expression of love. With the intent to foster their personal development, critical thinking, and skills. Throughout my life, those who had the most impact on me were my teachers. Especially those who set the highest expectations. Those who challenged and pushed me out of my comfort zone. Yes, teaching is a learned skill, and for every excellent teacher we’ve experienced dozens of mediocre to awful ones. Like leaders, excellent teachers aren’t “born.” They gained those skills from hours and hours of hard work and self reflection.
Tying closely to teaching is leadership. Most of us have been subjected to some awful leaders. Some of us have been fortunate to observe some outstanding ones closely, and even fewer have had the opportunity to work with a gifted leader. My interest in this stems both from necessity (being thrust into leadership roles - many that I was ill equipped to fill at the time) and the natural extension of teaching. Importantly, a leader impacts many lives simultaneously, so the stakes are higher. Leadership development served as a major theme of my career for this reason.
Anyone who has success as a leader (if being honest - and smart) will admit that they owe much to being surrounded by tremendous talent and dedicated colleagues. So really my legacy lies in the creativity, contributions and talents of those around me.
I will make a request regarding one way that those who wish can assist in keeping this “legacy” alive. Make a contribution to the Chisholm-Rodgers Legacy Fund. The Fund focuses on the two attributes that Kevin and I believed were most important to the Indiana University Emergency Medicine residency: high quality clinical educators whose talents and dedication assured that every graduate met our yardstick. And our yardstick was: every graduate should possess the clinical skills that would make us comfortable with them caring for us or a family member. To graduate somebody who couldn’t do this would be unethical. And this really is the “credibility foundation” needed for all career pathways within Emergency Medicine; the other is leadership development. We searched for every opportunity to impart meaningful leadership venues for our residents, believing that this would open career pathways and allow expanded meaning and impact. We derived tremendous satisfaction in watching graduates excel in local, regional, state and national leadership roles. The Chisholm-Rodgers Legacy Fund thus focuses on excellence in clinical teaching and leadership development.
Kevin and Carey shortly after Kevin came to IUEM
Nicole -
In my work I have seen all types of legacy wishes. Some people create quilts or build wooden rocking horses for grandchildren yet to be born. People write birthday cards for many years ahead after they are gone or letters for special occasions such as graduations, weddings and the birth of children. Other people view legacy as a life well lived and are content to spend their time left making memories with those they love. How people want to be remembered is as unique as each of us; asking a dying person “How do you want me to remember you” is the start to a good (and sometimes tearful) conversation. For those left behind, it can be helpful to have a physical reminder so that when grief hits we have something concrete to touch that connects us. I lost a dear friend and mother figure several years ago. Next to my bed I keep a small figure of a girl knitting surrounded by Danish flags that she gave me. It was her reminder to me to be the person I truly am and looking at it now gives me comfort when I miss her and feel sad.
I suggest to patients that choosing a special candle holder for individuals they love can be a simple legacy act (glassybaby.com is one example). While they are alive and together, they can light a candle within the candle holder with purpose and love. After the person dies, the candle holder can remain with the person left behind. That individual can then light further candles in it when they feel sad or lonely or are remembering the person they loved with joy. It helps on holidays, birthdays and just on days when we miss them. It is a physical connector holding the energy of light between people who were together and now aren’t in the same way. Legacy, in a solid form.
For Carey, teaching physicians well enough that he would be comfortable with them caring for him brings us full circle. Unexpectedly, so many years ago he set the example of clinical excellence and empathy for me. And here we are, the student taking care of the teacher with what I hope he feels is clinical excellence and empathy. A living legacy of his own wishes and full circle on his dying journey.
Robin -
The key to immortality is to have first lived a life worth remembering. ~ Bruce Lee
So it looks like we are stuck with Carey and Kevin forever. My life has been enriched by Carey’s work. As an Emergency Medicine residency director, he impacted hundreds of young physicians. The family atmosphere of the residency allowed our family to welcome them into our home (often several times a month). The residents became part of our family and it has been a joy to watch them grow in their careers as physicians. I see Carey’s and Kevin’s legacy ever expanding as their former students inspire and guide the next generation of physicians.
Kevin and Carey at the annual Resident Gala
One’s legacy is found in the lives of others.
Jennifer Sullivan - Legacy
E.M. Forster said, “Spoon feeding in the long run teaches us nothing but the shape of the spoon.” Every once in a while during residency, I think we all had a secret longing for the shape of the spoon, but the man at the helm just didn’t operate that way. Ever.
I worked a sum total of half a shift with Dr. Chisholm in five years of residency. For a long time I thought he purposely scheduled himself to avoid me. I am still not certain that isn’t the case. Regardless, all of the stories of shoes under the curtain and continuous grilling on charting nuances and other such meticulous coaching in patient care are lost on me. What I do have is fifteen years of leadership mentoring, unwavering friendship, and honestly, hero worship and am grateful for the opportunity to share just a few memories of these incredible years with you tonight.
When I look back on my life and think about how my timeline of important places, people and events might look, Carey appears repeatedly. On June 29, 2000 I went to Carey and Robin’s home for the first time for the intern welcome picnic. I was 42+1 weeks pregnant with my first son, looked like a whale in the last pair of maternity overalls that would fit, and was supposed to start my intern year the following day. I had tried every old wives tale possible to go into labor to no avail. As I was leaving, Carey gave me a huge hug, then looked sternly at the mass that was to be my ten pound child and said “You need to come out.” My water broke three hours later. This is the power wielded by this man.
Six years later my second son was diagnosed with autism. I was a junior faculty wading my way through the murky waters of motherhood and academia and left the appointment with a sense of relief that I had been correct and the simultaneous fear that I wouldn’t be able to succeed in any venue. I called Carey and went over to that self same porch where a very strong gin martini awaited my arrival. Over the next few hours, Carey and Robin and I walked through a plan that I still consider a miraculous win for all involved. I learned so much in those moments about creating one’s own definition of success, shedding any sense of concern for what other people think, that life is a series of short, intense races one after the other and that there will always be people on the sidelines cheering you on.
Just a little over a year ago Carey asked me for a favor for the first time. He asked me to officiate his eldest daughter’s wedding in Idaho. It was not a favor, but instead, I think the biggest gift he could have ever given me as a symbol of friendship. But, this was where the reality of Carey shone through in all its glory.
The incredible thing about these anecdotes is that nearly everyone in this room can say the same. Carey helped me when I _______, Carey listened to me when I thought no one _________, Carey taught me how to ____________. How one man could have such broad vision and yet be so personally invested in his trainees is truly mind-boggling.
It is said that true geniuses can continuously reinvent themselves without losing sight of who they are. Carey is that genius and there are no others in program directorship who have been able to do what he did. From championing the end of pharma reps, to leading the way into a 13 block schedule, to embedding evidence based care into an EM curriculum, Carey has been not only at the forefront of emergency medicine, but often has defined the forefront before anyone saw it coming. He teaches residents to retrograde plan, to build a life that facilitates saying yes to the right things, and to always see the best in people.
Perhaps, however, the best testament to what this one person has done for so many is a show of hands as to how many people text Carey when something happens in their lives yet to this day. Depending on the issue there is a different order, but he is in my top five, right along with my dad, Matt and EFresh.
Thank you for believing in all of us, for believing that medicine is more than a job, and for sacrificing so much of yourself to be a force multiplier.
Carey Chisholm, you gave me the world and I give you a lanyard.
**Update 3.14.21
Our last IUEM Gala seems like it was yesterday, but in reality it was a whole job, a new marriage, a devastating loss of a friend, a cancer diagnosis and a pandemic ago. I have added a lifetime of memories with Carey in these short five years and yet am so angry because there are so many more to make. I’ve spent nearly half of my life now with Carey as a teacher, a mentor and a friend. He is still my second text with good news and often my first text with bad. He edited my remarks as the commencement speaker for the IUSM graduation. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding. I have emails, thank you notes, letters and even agendas from workshops saved that will have to suffice as sources of inspiration and counsel moving forward.
Despite the grief that is coming, I count myself one of the luckiest people to have known Carey and proudly take on the responsibility to forge leaders and see the best in people so they can make the world a better place. #MakeADifference
Marie Vrablik - Legacy
The day I met you, I was overwhelmed with the sheer amount of life you emanated. You sat at your desk in the IUEM offices, hands clasped, with the shelves and walls behind and around you exploding with colorful scenes of the outdoors, red rocks, hiking, friends and family. Books everywhere, mementos with inscriptions, clippings and plaques and awards on every wall. It wasn’t cluttered, it was just so obvious that you had lived and were living life to the fullest, and this state surrounding you was in fact necessary as you couldn’t contain this proof of life solely within your being. Little did I know I was meeting a man who would have a formative impact on my life second only to my parents. I sat down, and the rest is now history, my history, but also the history of many fortunate enough to sit in that chair.
That interview was the beginning of my introduction to the Indiana University Emergency Medicine Department, out of which some of my best friendships, strongest mentorships and fondest memories would grow. At the heart of this complex web of experiences and relationships was and always will be Carey Chisholm. As I began my training, it was impossible not to hold him in a place of slight fear. Really, it was fear of not meeting his expectations, as his standards for himself and the residency program he had built into a legend and powerhouse were evident. As I got to know him over my intern year, fear was replaced by awe, awe for his zeal, his passion, his drive. I also recognized his kindness and his self-awareness, and saw that the standards he set for his trainees were far surpassed by the standards he set for himself. His commitment to excellence was prominent in every patient interaction I staffed with him, every conference he oversaw, and in many of the attendings who worked at IU, as he had trained most of them as well. By the end of my intern year, I regarded him really as a compass of morality, a north star for where I was going, both in my professional career, and also in my personal ethical code. Carey embodied compassion and high standards in his own personal and professional life, he inspired me, and I am certain countless others to strive toward a life demonstrating these two principles.
Over the latter half of my residency, I got to know my revered program director better, and I also was able to witness the remarkable friendship and partnership between Carey and Kevin Rodgers, the co-program director of IUEM. Kevin also had a monumental impact on my life, and when he was killed tragically in 2017, his loss was devastating personally to me and to the IUEM community. Kevin’s contributions to IU, emergency medicine as a specialty, and to the hundreds of resident physicians he trained are innumerable. He and Carey embodied self-sacrifice in the countless hours they put into their residency program. As I advanced in my training years, the more apparent their commitment became. They provided us with a rich curriculum augmented by so many opportunities to be mentored and supported, from Residency Soup Night to yearly retreats geared at teaching different skill sets to the Chief Resident Leadership Curriculum, not to mention resident parties, family barbecues, book clubs, etc.
In all these forums and over the years, I was able to see Carey more for the person he was, not perfect but luckily so, as he became more approachable and accessible to me. I realized he knew that making mistakes was not only acceptable but expected as part of learning, and that disappointing him was a lot harder than I had thought as an intern. During the resident retreat in our third year, Carey and Kevin each shared some raw and moving reflections on their own patient encounters. In baring his own flaws and humanity in his writing, Carey showed myself and my peers his commitment to personal growth and discernment. His adage that IUEM would always change and evolve, as improvement was an expected constant, was really an analogy for his personal philosophy for himself. Years later, I recognize the importance of this in successful advancement, and see that only the great leaders can fully commit to this. Our human nature is such that we want to rest, we want to be right and unmoving and settle in to our righteousness. These tendencies are demonstrated across the political landscape of our country right now as Carey leaves this world, and we are worse for it. I hope this commitment to growth and change that Carey demonstrated will live within us, the people he inspired and trained, and be a light to others in this difficult time in our country. But I digress.
As I completed my last year as a resident and chief resident, and accepted a fellowship position at IU, Carey had made the incredible transition in my life from respected teacher and supervisor, to trusted confidant, esteemed mentor, and totally hilarious friend. I will never forget the night my husband and I drove him and Kevin through the Taco Bell drive through after a department function, with the two of them in the backseat singing loudly (maybe Jimmy Buffet?), so loudly I couldn’t order their tacos. It is possible they weren’t entirely sober - I was, as I was 6 months pregnant, thank goodness so I can remember every detail. One of the funniest nights of my life, and further evidence of Carey’s incredibly infectious joie de vivre. I think of that night from time to time and wish we could all go back to then. In some ways, I think, we are still there. I can still feel the warm Indiana nighttime spring air and hear him and Kevin guffawing in the back seat, and its like they are still here.
During my fellowship and in the years afterward, my husband and I remained close with Carey and Robin. They guided us as we made professional choices, started our family, and then juggled these two responsibilities, as I am sure they have done for so many before and after us. They always had time for us and were quick to offer food, drink, a supportive ear. I cannot imagine making some of the hard decisions in my life that I did without Carey’s thoughtful questions or careful reflections. His ability to move seamlessly into this role for me was a testament to the true place he held in my esteem – the work he had done building his program, his residents, and himself laid a strong foundation for the impression he made and left on us all. He was integrated into my life, and over the years it was now an almost subconscious reaction when faced with a challenge or a problem to consider how Carey would have approached it, and what advice he would give.
One of my last visits with Carey, we were on Robin’s dad’s sailboat on Lake Pend Oreille outside his home in Idaho. He was a couple years into his cancer diagnosis and I, like us all, had the sense we were on borrowed time with him now. I was so desperate for him to give me one more bit of advice, one more piece of guidance, before he was unable to do so. I asked him once, twice, what would you have done differently? I wanted to know so that I could do things differently. Am I doing this right or wrong, Carey? His answer to me was ‘you have to figure that out for yourself, I am not here to tell you that.’
What do I want you to know, my dear friend, before you leave us? I want you to know the legacy you leave, which I hope I have described in some small way. I want to thank you for the personal gift of a stronger marriage after completing both an emergency medicine residency and serving as co-chiefs with my husband. It seems much more likely that going through these arduous times with both partners experiencing the same trials would be likely to chip away at one’s marriage. However, in large part due to your support and Kevin’s (and of course Ruth’s and Robin’s), Mike and I came through these experiences more deeply bonded than when we entered residency. I want to thank you for the gift of my best friends, my co-residents, many of whom I speak to daily and could not imagine being on this journey of life, parenting and working as an ED doc without. Thank you for my large IUEM extended family, whom I know I could call on in a moment’s notice for support or help, and whom I am committed to supporting as they each experience highs and lows in their respective lives. I want to thank you for making us each matter so much in your life, what an honor that has been.
I want you to know you are not gone, you are here within me and within all whom you mentored and befriended and taught. I want you to know that my patients and my residents receive pieces of me that I give because of what you gave, and that the complex and intricate web you wove over your life is deeper and more extensive than you can ever know. Your legacy is a tapestry that stretches across time, across emergency medicine and across the hearts of thousands who knew you. And I want you to know that somewhere, you are still in that Indiana drive-through with me and Mike and Kevin, singing and laughing as the breeze caresses our faces. You are and never will be gone, you’ll always be right here. Thank you, my friend.
Josh Mugele - Legacy
After Kevin died and when I learned of Carey’s diagnosis, as well as my own father’s cancer diagnosis, I’ve thought a lot about legacy and what I will leave behind. I have a strained relationship with my own father and I’ve been dwelling a lot on how his death and life have impacted me compared to how the life, illness, and death of mentors like Kevin and Carey impact me.
I came to IU for residency because of Carey. I decided to rank IU first after my interview with him. Carey asked me during my interview for two life-changing times, one before my twenties and one since. I talked about a time I held a sick child on a mission trip in Mexico and also when my first child was born. We also talked about the difficult path of switching careers into medicine in my thirties with a family. I was worried about money at the time and asked about moonlighting (in hindsight, knowing his position on the topic I’m not sure why he took me).
He told me he would push me and challenge me. He also promised that I would have ownership of my residency. And he lived up to his word – during residency he gave me a long leash, probably longer than I deserved. But he was unlike any other manager or leader that I’d had to that point. he trusted me with most things, and corrected me when I needed correction. He also forgave me for my faults, and actually worked with me to channel them appropriately. He fathered me more than anyone had up to that point. I have a problem with authority, but I respected him implicitly. The way he managed me, and the example he was to me caused a fundamental shift in my life, which I didn’t expect to come well into my thirties. I wanted to have the same kind of impact on learners’ lives that he had on mine, which is the primary reason I wanted to go into residency leadership.
Since residency, as Carey and I have grown closer, I’ve wanted to continue to model how I develop as a leader and residency director after how he lives his life. I’ve always admired his willingness to grow and change and examine his own life and practice. It’s something I hope I carry with me as long as I can. I admire his rationality and approach to problem-solving. I admire how he’s taken so many into his life and treated them and continue to treat them as family. I admire the individualized attention he gave and the interest he took in so many people’s lives. I admire how he said he wanted to surround himself with people who pushed him and trouble-makers and he included me in that definition. I admire how he’s always wanting to teach and to learn new things, his spirit of inquiry, his sense of adventure, and his willingness to have fun. I admire most of all how mission-driven his life is.
This is legacy. It’s more than the things we’ve built or our accomplishments. It’s how we’ve lived our life and how just by living we impact those around us. Carey’s legacy is not only the people who have learned from him not only by direct education but through example and influence as well. And his legacy is also the legacy that we all, his residents, leave in our lives. His impact is magnified through our impact. I hope my legacy is as rich in other people’s lives as his is in mine.
Mike Vrablik - Legacy
I often think about the circumstances that led me to be in a certain place at a particular time. Specifically, I think about those significant personal events that have shaped my life and my career. Somehow a random cascade of events put me at that interview at IU. The IU interview was the very last one for me and Marie and we had considered cancelling it. Despite being tired, burned out from all the traveling, and running out of money, we decided to make the last interview in Indianapolis. We had missed the dinner the night before since we landed late in Indy. Not having any particular expectations for this interview, I felt a little behind when arriving on the interview day since all the other applicants had met the night before. I looked at my interview schedule and saw that my last interview of the day was with Carey. That made me a bit nervous since I knew that I’d be meeting with the PD at the very end of the day when all my ‘good’ interview answers would have been used up. I distinctly remember entering Carey’s office and meeting him for the first time. There was something about that meeting, that first interface, that set forth another cascade of events that has led me to where I am now.
As a resident, Carey required that I be the best clinician that I could. Learning about emergency medicine was the easy part. What Carey instilled in me was the ‘art’ of medicine. He showed me a pathway to hone this craft, to be a physician, a scholar, a colleague and an advocate. Carey coached me through the metamorphosis that is becoming an emergency medicine physician. No matter what the shift would bring, Carey always required that I be resilient and adaptable, thorough and ethical, accountable and humble. Without those traits as a physician, I would find that the mundane would become bothersome, the unexpected would become anxiety-provoking and the sadness would become debilitating.
As a chief resident and afterward, I am fortunate to know Carey in a different way. He became a mentor and, most importantly, my friend. I have enjoyed the discussions and storytelling over the past many years. I have relished the time I spent sharing a meal and some delicious whiskey. I remember many of the times we’ve laughed together and the all times we have both shared grief and sadness. Carey has taught me what it is to be a physician but most importantly how to balance a life of medicine with that as a husband and a father.
A few years ago, Marie and I and our two oldest children took a trip to visit Carey and Robin in Bayview. We had a day out on the water aboard Robin’s father’s sailboat. It was a perfect day. It was sunny and warm with breathtaking views in all directions. There is one picture from that day that encompasses all that is beautiful and wonderful in my life. It’s a picture of Carey standing next to the mast with my daughter to his right and Marie smiling in the background.
Boating on Lake Pend Oreille
I look at that picture and I wonder about all the decisions that I have made in my life, good and bad. I consider all the events that brought me to that perfect place in time, and I don’t know if they resulted from destiny, fate or random chance. From this one image I can easily see how lucky and undeserving I am to have my perfect children, be married to such an incredible and motivating spouse, and to have the opportunity to learn from and share life experiences with Carey.
The other day I emailed Carey a quick note after a long and tiring night shift. It was a stream of consciousness about the connection between EM physicians. Sometimes, when it has been a hard shift, I feel this relief knowing that there is some EP going through the same thing and those physicians that have come before me have dealt with the same difficulties that are inherent in emergency medicine. There is a comfort in that comradery and solidarity that breeches time and space. Part of Carey’s response was about this specific “feeling when you drop in on that wavelength. Sort of a Zen peacefulness…”. No one could have said it better. I will always look to be on that wavelength with you, Carey.
Michael Vrablik IUEM 2012
Casey Patrick - Legacy
First off, let me begin by stating the obvious here, I feel woefully inadequate even to try and begin to encapsulate Carey Chisholm's legacy. That said, I can speak to what I've personally learned and how I've been profoundly impacted by watching not just Carey, but Robin and their family also, gracefully navigate the process of actively dying.
It seems impossible to think that this began three years ago. I can remember exactly where I was standing and the loss of breath I felt when Carey shared his diagnosis and prognosis with me over the phone. Come to find out, that phone call was Carey's blueprint for the next three years. He's been matter of fact, without pity or wallowing, and operating with clear intent throughout. Me, I was stunned, then angry, then paralyzed by profound sadness. Not Carey, he brought his family and loved ones around him to target specific goals and worthwhile pursuits in whatever time they had left. My emotions were self-centered, while Carey's approach relied on continued curiosity and appreciation regardless of tomorrow.
How will I live differently thanks to Carey and Robin? There a million answers, and you surely don't want to hear them all. Above all, I want a Sprinter exactly like theirs. Hopefully, this will be an actual Sprinter with an Indy-like dog, but we can treat it metaphorically as well. Make specific decisions that allow you to do what you love the most with the people you love the most. Precisely, period. This idea seems simple and far from profound, but we're all guilty of consistently cluttering our lives with needless distractions brought on by work, societal, and material pursuits. I'm just one of many who are better physicians, partners, parents, siblings, and friends because of Carey's example, teaching, and friendship; that's legacy, right? I will find my Sprinter and fill it with love.
Chris Weaver - Legacy
I’ll start by saying that this is about the hardest thing I’ve ever set down to write. The difficulty is not only because of the emotions it brings to me but also because there is no way that I can sufficiently represent the monumental impact and legacy that Carey leaves behind.
To begin to consider Carey’s legacy, it is important to discuss traits that Carey not only possesses but also nurtures in those around him. Anyone that encounters Carey in any aspect of life readily recognizes him as consistent and tenacious. Whether it be teaching the impact of industry on clinicians or promoting transparent communication with patients, Carey never takes a day off. He has always been true to his values and fights tenaciously to protect them. This not only speaks to his character, but it has also inspired many of his trainees and mentees to advocate tirelessly for those who have less of a voice. While these individuals bring the heart and enthusiasm, Carey’s mentoring has instilled the persistent and tireless virtue necessary to make a lasting difference. The impact is felt across the world through heroic efforts of many talented individuals who were shaped by Carey.
I believe CS Lewis (and later Tony Dungy) said “Integrity is doing the right thing even when no one is watching.” I have never met anyone that holds this closer to their heart than Carey does. He has inculcated this sentiment in all his teaching and modeling throughout his career. With references to the Washington & Lee honor code to direct conversations about trust, Carey has built a legacy around standing up for what is right, high integrity, and honesty. A legacy that will transcend generations as each of us take those teachings and stories to our kids and beyond. And of great importance, Carey created this piece of his legacy not out of fear but out of strength and trust. He has always understood that people aren’t perfect and that they make mistakes (sometimes big ones). I am not sure it can be said that he is “understanding” in such situations as he holds strong to these values and does not allow wiggle room. But he does understand that people are imperfect and does not abandon those that err. Carey instead holds all to high standards of integrity and yet supports those that have fallen short as they work to climb out of their hole. He has not blinked with adversity and has been the epitome of strength and conviction. This legacy has built an environment and leadership style of trust and accountability that is far reaching and will last generations.
When talking Carey Chisholm, we must discuss teaching and leadership. Carey built his professional career focused on teaching and building leaders. And speaking of not taking a day off… whether he was teaching those in medicine how to be better clinicians, pointing out plant and wildlife to those he’s hiking or playing golf with, or shaping palliative care at the end of his life, Carey has never stopped teaching. And he has done so in a way that is infectious and makes everyone want to teach and have the same impact he has had on all of us. Much of that teaching and mentorship has been aimed at the topic of leadership. He has perfected topics such as time management, leading a meeting, providing feedback, creating a vision, and just about any leadership topic one can imagine. Most importantly, he has created a legacy that breeds the thirst to lead and to make a difference. That legacy has sprouted government leaders, hospital leaders, education leaders, and community leaders. He has created a community of leaders that cascades those learnings and experiences to others and is truly a lasting legacy.
In creating such a legacy that challenges people to be their best and to make a difference, Carey has done so in a manner that promotes fun and true life balance. His focus on wellness and balance is something that will continue to affect the lives of many for generations to come. Beginning with the first time Carey met someone, he demonstrated the importance of interests outside of work. He coached and engrained wellness in those around him well before it was a popular topic and commonly recognized need. His coaching and role modeling has resulted in large numbers of well-balanced individuals across the country that promote this way of life to their peers and families. Carey instilled the concept of “work hard and play hard”. He alsodeveloped a legacy that promotes diversity. Carey not only accepted but sought diversity in race, ethnicity, life experiences, work experiences, upbringing, schooling, and every aspect of life. He loved hearing peoples’ stories. Carey promoted such in his residency/work life and in everything he did. Carey instilled a want to learn from and spend time with individuals from all walks of life.
Finally, I believe it is important to comment on the legacy of “family” that Carey has created. Above and beyond all, Carey built a family atmosphere with those he interacted. He inspired all to seek to learn more about those around them and to support each other as a team. Beginning with Robin and his daughters, Carey beamed with pride and most enjoyed learning about what makes others tick. He not only enjoyed it but also imparted the importance of doing so into those who learned from him. He consistently aimed for and expected a family atmosphere in his program and departments that he was a part of. Carey has had the innate ability to make all around him strive to make him proud. He instilled these wants and expectations in all of us through his words and his actions. Carey has had a huge impact on the Emergency Medicine profession and on academic medicine and he has made an even larger impression on our personal lives – he has taught us how to focus on and love ourselves and each other. Carey’s legacy will leave an imprint on generations to come.
Thank you to the best teacher, mentor, friend, and big-brother figure that a man could ever imagine! I wish I could find the words to tell you how much you have meant to me and how much you have taught me. I never make it through a single day without drawing from the things you’ve taught me and doing my best to impart those same things on those I work with and on my kids. I am thankful for all the hours we got to work together, for all the laughs we’ve shared, and for all the memories!
Thank you and I love you!
Chris
Elizabeth Weinstein - Legacy
Growing up, ET was my favorite movie. Spoiler alert for those who have somehow never seen it - at the end of the movie ET goes home.
I’ve said “goodbye” to Carey three times now by my count. The first time was just a couple of months after his diagnosis - when he hadn’t yet decided on his treatment plan, and no one really had any idea about what time looked like - a tearful hug in his dining room in Bayview (during which I fully gave up on self-expression,) followed by another hug at the airport and a very long email with all the stuff I had thought I would say in person. (It turns out - he got a lot of emails like this - drafted by people like me, former residents and mentees. People whose lives he changed.) In fact, for the first year following Carey’s diagnosis, there was an endless stream of us traveling to Bayview -- sometimes alone, often in groups, classmates, friends - come for more time with the man who played such a profound role in influencing our futures. Futures that, while wildly different from one another, are anchored in the same fundamental values of how we care for our patients, our students, and for one another.
During the pandemic Carey’s many long-ago students quietly and effectively influenced the trajectory of care for people worldwide. Former residents, now leaders in global health, were tasked with safely repatriating citizens home from their work in Wuhan China. Three of his former grads, now serving in public health leadership roles for the state of Indiana, built testing strategies, rolled out vaccinations, and set policy for the state’s pandemic response. Other grads across the country led health systems, led EMS systems, led research, wrote op-eds, worked tirelessly in community EDs at the bedside of thousands of sick and frightened patients. In all of these spaces Carey’s impact has been stunningly exponential.
The second time I said goodbye was just a couple of weeks ago in Hawaii — I was less apologetic this time for how hard it all seemed, or maybe I was just more prepared for it. In fairness I’d been intermittently a little tearful during the whole trip - something about lanais and multiple dinners outside with good friends and Hawaiian sunsets. I told Carey that the whole trip was like some next level Nicholas Sparks bullshit -traveling to Hawaii in the middle of a pandemic for final goodbyes - meaningful conversations woven carelessly into idle chats as we sat on the beach watching the clouds pass and the tide roll out. A strong desire for one last refill on the cup of wisdom he’s been filling for all of us for years.
Over the decades, Carey (and Kevin) cooked hundreds (maybe thousands) of gourmet meals for all of us. When we sniffed around after meals that we really liked, they gave us recipes and pro-tips, and when we asked, taught us how to prepare our favorites. During the last several weeks Carey has taken a step back from the kitchen, and Robin, armed with spreadsheets, has assigned meal responsibilities — dinner by this person this night – a rotating plan. Without fail each meal (prepared by friends, family, and former residents) has been planned and cooked with exquisite care. Meals selected from recipes he taught us, or things they had made in the past that are his “favorites.” All of it an eloquent delivery of love on a plate.
The last time I said goodbye was a few minutes ago. Carey offered a final casual wave and an “adios” as he stepped into the Kia Sorento in the earliest hours of the morning (or as he would say O-dark-thirty) and departed for the airport. Perhaps it was without the cinematic panache of Spielberg and the long walk up the ramp to the spacecraft. There was no dramatic music. But in that moment, I was reminded of ET departing for home. In that final scene ET and Elliot, forever changed by one-another, hug. ET says, “Come.” Elliot, replies, “Stay.” And ET, finger a-glow, points to Elliot’s heart and says, “I’ll be right here.”
There are other comparisons some might draw — ET and Carey are roughly the same height. Both have an affinity for beer. (In fact, on his arrival back to Indy Carey was delighted to find that one of his favorite and uncommonly found beers, Zombie Dust, was now readily available at the local market. Another reminder perhaps, that time passes, and things change, but I digress.) Carey, like ET inspires in others a passion to fight for what they believe is right. To, when the moment calls for it, stand up to “the man”, and pedal as fast as they can in the direction of what needs to be done. Peddle fast enough, at times, to achieve lift off — metaphorical or otherwise.
In its simplest terms Carey’s legacy is all of us. It’s the recipes we cook, it’s the lessons he taught us, it’s the lives we will influence, and the ones they will influence next. It is the end of the movie.
Come.
Stay.
I’ll be right here.