Chapter VIII – The musician doctor

Chapter VIII

The musician doctor

Massimo Laurenti, sat at the piano after lunch, as was his habit. He improvised on a ragtime - he was an amazing player and Ms Dorota, who cleaned the house, made lunch for him and ironed his shirts, started dancing while cleaning the stoves. He started studying music when he was 6 years old, thanks to his grandmother who, in her time, had been a great concert performer. At a certain point in his life he had even thought about enrolling at the conservatory, to make that passion a profession. But his father, an austere and authoritarian cardiologist surgeon, was not going to let him. “You’ll become a doctor – he said just after his son graduated high school – because the world is always going to need doctors.” “The world needs musicians too” “May be, but they don’t save lives. And Paolo Borsellino said that there’s only 3 useful jobs: teachers, prosecutors and doctors.” “Well then let’s add one more: musician” “Don’t even think about it” Of course, Massimo Laurenti could have been a little more assertive - it was his life, after all. But he did not have the guts to face his father and he had no support from his mother. A southern woman who, for culture and traditions, would have never gone against her husband. Only his grandmother could have backed him up, but she was tired and made weaker by her age. Actually, Massimo Laurenti didn’t mind becoming a doctor: the only problem was that he could not really stand the sight of blood, suffering and pain in general. So, after a brilliant 110 cum laude, with great satisfaction of his father, he chose diabetology as his branch. “I’d never make a great surgeon, dad – is what he said – I’m sorry but I chose another path” “Is that out of revenge?” “No, I did it because I think that, being diabetic myself, I could better understand and listen to my patients. I do it because this could be the only branch in medicine where a doctor can share the patient’s disease. And I do it because I want to” “Well, it’s your decision. But if you wanted to be a surgeon I could have helped you, as a diabetologist I can’t. You’ll have to make it on your own.”

“So that’s what’s going to happen, I’ll make it on my own” That choice, for Massimo Laurenti, started his breakaway. He closed the piano and got ready to go out. The Diabetes Center was nearby, and Laurenti could go there on his bike. He was almost 50 years old, and in perfect shape. Tall, 1.90 m, thin, athletic, long grey hair and blue eyes. He never wanted to get married, even though he had some long and intense love stories, because he really high valued his independence. He arrived at the office in a few minutes. That afternoon the waiting room was particularly crowded and his assistant brought him coffee and the list of appointments for the day. Luisa, Simone and the little Diego were the first. “Here’s my friend, Diego! How are you?” “Everything’s fine, but we’re here to ask for your advice” “Let’s see the diary first” He studied scrupulously the documentation. “I’d say we’re doing great! Good job Diego, how are the new pens?” “They’re fine” said the kid, a little embarrassed “So – Laurenti said looking at Luisa and Simone – what were you going to ask?” “About sports. Sunday, at the Milan-Sanremo, there was a team of diabetic cyclists.” “I know, I’ve heard a lot about them” “Well we were just wondering if maybe Diego should be doing some sports, too” “Mrs Luisa, we talked plenty about it. Sport is a part of the therapy, just like insulin and diet. It’s not something more, or extra, it’s the therapy. I told you, I have type 1 myself and I play tennis and go cycling. You have to get over this, there’s no risks.” “Then why can’t I play football with Tommaso?” said Diego, who looked distracted, but had been listening very closely to the conversation. “You can play all you want if you like!” Laurenti put a certain stress on that last verb, while Diego was jumping for joy. Then, he said to his parents: “Listen, Diego needs sports. He needs to share lockers with kids of his age, share happiness when they win and a little sadness when they lose. He needs to get used to life and diabetes cannot stop him from that. In one word: let him leave, let him have fun. Are we clear?” “Yes, if you say so.” Luisa whispered as Simone vigorously shook the doctor’s hand. “Ok then. Bye champ, and while we’re at it… what’s your favourite team?” “Sampdoria, and yours?” “Genoa for life”

What’s the best way to have a long healthy life? Acquire good habits In childhood, to help grow a strong body and optimal neuropsychological development, both really important to go through all events in life. And sport, which is effort, humility, consistency, struggle, joy, delusion - is a necessary activity to achieve this. “

Claudio Maffeis President of Italian Society of Endocrinology and Pediatric Diabetology