Diving deep

The DO Book Club, May 2025: ‘Life in the Balance: A Physician’s Memoir of Life, Love and Loss with Parkinson’s Disease and Dementia’

Tim Barreiro, DO, breaks down this touching memoir that invites clinicians to reconnect with the fundamental humanism of the healing arts.

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Memoirs offer essential lessons for health care professionals in vulnerability, holistic care and empathy. Literature is known as a tool to foster compassion and combat burnout, and that remains true for this month’s book club pick, “Life in the Balance: A Physician’s Memoir of Life, Love and Loss with Parkinson’s Disease and Dementia.”

In his memoir published in 2009, author Thomas Graboys, MD, courageously chronicles his journey as he goes from being a respected cardiologist to a man living with Parkinson’s disease and Lewy body dementia. This memoir is not just a personal narrative—it is a vital educational tool for physicians, offering rare insights into the lived experience of chronic neurological illness. Through storytelling, the book invites clinicians to rethink the power dynamics of medicine and reconnect with the fundamental humanism of the healing arts.

Experiencing being a patient as a physician

The author has a unique perspective as he tackles illness from both a physician and patient viewpoint. His candid acknowledgment of cognitive decline, emotional turmoil and loss of identity creates a space for readers to confront their fears about loss, love and illness. One example is the author’s description of decline and the need for assistance:

“I have, in short, lost confidence in how my body will act or react at any given time. My anger about this loss of physical control sometimes threatens to overwhelm me. My life has become an endless series of small humiliations and compromises, each one a trifle on its own, but together enough to blow a big hole through my ego. But where once I resisted, I now accept help more gracefully. People want to help, need to help and feel good about helping. But I wonder: Do you ever get used to not being able to tie your own shoes, and button your own jacket?” (p. 154-155)

In doing so, this illness memoir levels the asymmetrical relationship between physician and patient, replacing authority with authenticity.

What is especially of great interest is the narrative’s ability to invite medical professionals to reconsider how vulnerability can be a bridge rather than a barrier in patient care. It is a stark reminder that doctors are not immune to disease. Shared humanity, not clinical detachment, fosters deeper trust and understanding.

Drawing from his own experiences, Dr. Graboys illustrates the limitations of a purely biomedical model. His story resonates with the definition of healing proposed by clinical professor Thomas Egnew—a process that transcends curing and involves restoring wholeness. Throughout this book, the author does not merely recount the physical symptoms of his condition, he also shares his grief, confusion and moments of transcendence.

His narrative urges physicians to see patients not as biological organisms but as whole emotional, social and spiritual people. This emphasis aligns with the principles of osteopathic medicine, reminding clinicians that healing requires more than medication; it demands presence, time, listening, empathy and displaying hope.

While the memoir offers a rare, intimate account of Parkinson’s disease and Lewy body dementia, it is the author’s personal and textured descriptions—reports on everyday life with disease—that are enthralling. He articulates the fluctuating nature of his cognition, the haunting awareness of decline and the existential weight of his diagnoses. For example, he reminds providers that physicians can always give hope, even when there is nothing else to do.

“In the face of uncertainty or a bad prognosis, there is nothing wrong with hope, and one of the most effective ways for a doctor to convey hope is with his time and attention, even when there is little left to do medically. When patients are near the end and you have exhausted everything in your medical repertoire, they and their families will almost always ask, “Isn’t there anything else we can do?” The doctor’s presence and attentiveness give the patient hope, as does the physical examination.” (p. 90)

Many of the narrative insights are invaluable for health care professionals—they offer a perspective that enhances clinical care by promoting patient-centered practices grounded in empathy. Understanding the subjective experience of illness allows clinicians to anticipate emotional needs, communicate more compassionately and advocate for more nuanced care plans.

Through the lens of empathy

A central theme in “Life in the Balance”is loss—the loss of physical function, professional identity, independence and life itself. He writes movingly about the emotional toll of stepping away from a career that once defined him, highlighting how tightly woven professional identity can be with self-worth. For medical practitioners, who often see themselves as caregivers rather than care receivers, reading about this role reversal can be profoundly affecting. It challenges doctors to engage more openly with patients who are facing terminal diagnoses.

The rising tide of physician burnout demands innovative approaches to well-being. “Life in the Balance” suggests that empathy, rather than emotional withdrawal, may be a solution. By modeling emotional engagement, the author reframes empathy not as a liability but as a form of resilience.

His own resilience, supported by his relationships and spiritual reflection, offers inspiration to both patients and clinicians. It suggests that healing—overcoming suffering and becoming whole—is always possible even when a cure is not. Simply stated, when doctors connect meaningfully with their patients, the work becomes more than a series of clinical tasks—it becomes a deeply human endeavor.

Throughout the narrative, health care professionals are invited to reclaim the emotional core of their practice by confronting vulnerability, embracing all types of healing and listening to lived experiences. In doing this, they can become not just better clinicians, but also better human beings. Because so much of medicine is entrenched in navigating an increasingly technological and depersonalized health care system, this narrative is a reminder that, at its heart, medicine is about caring. It is through empathy, not detachment, that healing truly begins.

Editor’s note: The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the views of The DO or the AOA.

Related reading:

The DO Book Club, March 2025: ‘At the Will of the Body: Reflections on Illness’

The DO Book Club, Feb. 2025: ‘Legacy: A Black Physician Reckons with Racism in Medicine’

One comment

  1. Melissa Baez

    In 2019, I began experiencing symptoms of Parkinson’s disease, which was diagnosed in 2021. Among my severe symptoms were tremors, difficulty walking, weakness throughout my body, and stiffness and rigidity. My meds only provided temporary relief, so I decided to try other approaches and started the PD-5 treatment program from uine healthcentre. n et. With the help of this therapy regimen, I have seen significant improvements in my walking, balance, tremors, and appetite, and I have resumed my guitar playing again and sign my name as I had before Parkinson’s. I am incredibly grateful.

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