Donald Robertson

The Rogue Valley recently lost a legend, Dr. Donald Robertson.

Known to most as “Dr. Don,” he passed away surrounded by his husband and very close friends. After 45 years of practicing medicine, the giant shoes that he has left in our community may be too difficult for any one person to fill.

Nearly 15 years ago, while applying to medical school, I had the fortuitous opportunity of getting to work as a medical assistant alongside Don and his right-hand, Karline Kleker.

Although Don graciously taught me in his spare time about the pathophysiology of disease and the myriad of treatments during my year at the White City Medical Clinic, the true gift he afforded me was the one that I had the privilege of watching every single day up close: Treating everyone he encountered with compassion.

Don was truly loved by all — patients, staff, colleagues and friends. His bright smile, infectious laugh, jovial personality and witty sense of humor always lifted everyone’s spirits. Even the most cantankerous of all patients could be seen leaving the clinic with a smirk.

But it was his kindness and caring that made him stand out above all. Whether it was lending a shoulder to cry on, an empathetic ear to listen or giving someone a hug, patients always left the office feeling important.

I was able to see in practice the words of the late author, Leo Buscaglia: “Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”

Don exuded friendship and warmth. His patients over time turned into his friends and eventually “family.” He made house calls, sometimes just social visits, to those who were unable to come into the clinic — a practice that sometimes feels all but forgotten.

Don was an advocate for Medical Aid in Dying (MAID), also known as “Death With Dignity.” He afforded those with a terminal diagnosis an opportunity to end their suffering, while also providing some remaining autonomy that often fades so quickly towards one’s end of life.

Don practiced what Robin Williams’ movie character, Dr. Patch Adams, once famously preached, “You treat a disease, you win, you lose. You treat a person, I guarantee you, you’ll win, no matter what the outcome.”

I was fortunate enough to say my goodbyes to my dear friend, mentor and role model, and being in his presence made me realize what a truly special human being the world has lost.

In a day where it feels that politics divides us and there is a tribal attitude that you are either with us or against us, I hope we can all learn from this most amazing man — we all have the ability in us to treat others with humanity, dignity and respect — and maybe even love and a little understanding.

I will continue to strive each and every day to be half the physician (and person) that Dr. Don was to oh so many, but the giant shoes that he has left in our community may be too difficult for any one person to fill.