The Death of Paul Farmer

 This week, I was very sad to hear of the death of Dr. Paul Farmer. I had only recently begun to be deeply inspired by Dr. Farmer and had read his book Fevers, Feuds, and Diamonds towards the end of this past summer. 

I first heard of Dr. Farmer from another doctor who inspired me deeply. She is an infectious diseases doctor in Boston who worked on the front lines of the Ebola epidemic in Sierra Leone, Liberia, and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Dr. Farmer was one of her heroes, and she was (and still is!) one of mine, so naturally I started to learn more about the work that Dr. Farmer was doing. 

In my sophomore year at Stanford, I joined Stanford’s Partners in Health Engage chapter. Each week, we read a news article pertaining to important topics like maternal health in Sierra Leone, the rise of diseases like typhus in Los Angeles’ homeless populations, and the implications of war for global health. We wrote letters to newspapers and spoke with congress members to advocate for health bills that Partners in Health was supporting. I even won a free copy of Mountains Beyond Mountains. We watched the movie Bending the Arc, which tells the story of how Farmer and his colleagues founded Partners in Health and the lives that their work saved. I remember being so excited for the Boston infectious diseases doctor who I mentioned above, because she had been invited to a book club where Dr. Farmer was going to discuss Fevers, Feuds, and Diamonds. 

But it wasn’t until I heard Dr. Farmer speak that I truly understood why he was so important to the field of global health. Stanford’s global health center was hosting a Zoom talk with him one night during winter quarter last year. The interviewer praised Dr. Farmer for several minutes and then asked him a single question. The question was bold, perhaps a bit eerie given Dr. Farmer’s passing this year.

“I know you’re still very young. But, when you do die, what would you like to be on your tombstone? How would you like to be remembered, Dr. Farmer?”

Dr. Farmer was silent for a few seconds and then spoke.  

“Useful,” he said. “I hope my tombstone would say that I was useful. That’s how I hope to be remembered.”

It was such a simple, humble response that moved the audience (and the interviewer) deeply. And when I got the chance to read Fevers, Feuds, and Diamonds, I realized Dr. Farmer was being completely truthful. His book is a reflection of his mindset. In his book, the stories of people whose voices are not usually heard are given the power. His voice, careful and compassionate, lifted theirs up to a place where the rest of the world could hear them. 

I think this humility is especially important in the field of global health, especially when it comes to providing aid during epidemics and pandemics. Understanding that every single patient is a human being deserving of dignity and compassion is crucial. Believing that the doctors who come in to provide help are not saviors but rather partners and co-workers to the nurses and doctors who have been living in these communities for their whole lives is also important. I could say a lot more about the profound impact Dr. Farmer has had on me, but I also think that there is a lot I am excited to discover about his work. I hope to read some of his other books and continue to be involved in Stanford’s Partners in Health Chapter. 

-Sophia (Week 6)