Medford mail tribune., May 14, 1961, Image 36

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Dr. Tom brought medicine to 12 backivard countries.
The Last
Days
of
Doctor
Dooley
By MALCOLM DOOLEY
As told to lack Ryan
Even as cancer was claiming his life, the courageous young medical missionary
never gave up his fight; here is the inspiring story told by his brother
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Pf GENERAL TIME CORPORATION
Although we never expressed it, the newsmen and I were
part of a death vigil that day last January. My brother,
Dr. Thomas Dooley, lay in New York's Memorial Hospital,
cancer attacking his lower spinal area; he was dying, and -the
world was reading daily reports about his condition.
One of Tom's doctors came down the corridor toward us.
The newsmen surrounded him, asking information on the
- young doctor whose medical missionary work in southeast
Asia had captured the country's imagination, and who had
founded an organization, MEDICO, to bring medical care
to the needy in underdeveloped countries. The doctor told
the newsmen: "There's always hope."
But I remembered Tom's own diagnosis of malignant
melanoma. Half its victims die within the year, he had once
said, and most of the rest die in two years. Sixteen months
had passed since cancer had first struck Tom.
The doctor took me aside. "He'll be coming out of sedation .
soon," he said. "If you want to talk to him, now is the time."
Tom and I had a lot to talk about. I was executive director
of MEDICO; the organization, only three years old, had 17
projects in 12 countries, and was expanding. Tom had been
one of its creators and the driving force. In only 33 years of
life, he'd come a long way, making friends and enemies, hav
ing successes and setbacks. Now it was ending.
When I saw Tom, I got quite a shock. Only months before,
I had been with him in Laos checking some of our hospitals.
He hadn't looked much different than he had in college. Now
he was nearly 50 pounds lighter, and his face reflected pain.
But when he saw me, he gave the old quick grin and started
off like always at a full run.
"There's a lot to be done," he said, "so let's get going." On
Jan. 20, we were to have a directors' meeting, and Tom had
prepared a full agenda for it I don't know how he did it
When he wasn't under sedation, the pain was excruciating.
When I left his hospital room, he repeated: "Let's get go
ing on this stuff."
No thanks. No acknowledgement that anything was wrong.
Tom had more than his share of critics, and they probably
Family Weekly, May 14, IMJ
would have criticized him for this brusqueness, but Tom had
once said: "Don't expect any nice words or thanks from me
for helping people who need it. I'll say thanks once a year
that's all the time we have." -
.Brusqueness gave Tom an undeserved reputation for
being impetuous, but when I checked his carefully worked
out agenda, I realized again that Tom, for all his impatience,
always looked ahead. Much of what he outlined that day was
to reiterate for those who would carry on his work his belief
that U.S. medical aid could help acquaint the new nations
of the world with the selflessness and good will of the Amer
ican people.
Tom always looked ahead, all right, but like anybody else
he had his surprises. I remember that last trip with him
to Laos. The war there was already in full swing, and we
didn't know from hour to hour who was in power commu
nists, neutralists, or democrats. We were flying to a jungle
clinic in a small plane and landed on an air strip only six
miles from the Chinese border. Suddenly, we were sur
rounded by armed troops. A Jeep with a machine gun
mounted on its hood pulled up to us.
"I am commandeering this plane for the army," a Laotian
lieutenant told Tom.
Tom whipped out a letter of passage from the neutralist
leader, Prince Souvanna Phouma. "This will get us through,"
he explained to me.
Instead, the lieutenant flung the letter back at Tom.
"Phouma was overthrown last night. We recognize only Gen.
Phoumi Nosavan." H
Tom never faltered. He pulled out another letter, this one
.from Phoumi. "I figured this might happen, too," he said,
maybe a little smugly. But Tom's plan backfired this time.
The lieutenant didn't believe a foreigner could be friends
with two bitter enemies. He ordered us to the clinic and took
over the plane. 1
Tom was crestfallen; he didn't like his plans upset But
he wasn't one to sulk. He learned that the commanding
(Continued on page 12)