Dr. Louis Portera

Within a year, I've lost my Dad, my brother and now a friend and mentor, Dr Louis Portera - so pardon me if I 'yammer' on. What's it all about anyway? The question has been pondered and posed by philosophers, theologians and the like for centuries. So I'm not so certain that we will know the answer. In the interim, there is no law that says we can't 'make up' our own answers as we go along... Take Edward "Bruce" Merritt's obituary... It seems as though the writer (and quite possibly Bruce himself ) had a real grasp on things. Reading it not only made me laugh, but it also gave me an appreciation for who Bruce was and how much he meant to his sisters, the nation, his wives, children, grandchildren and friends. Yesterday, I learned that Dr Louis Portera (Lou) a man who positively impacted my life as a nurse and human being, died. I reflected on how much he meant to his family, the nurses, doctors, techs, firemen, paramedics, police officers, office staff and most importantly, the E.R. patients. But he was so much more than just an E.R. Doc. Initially, Lou was somewhat distant to new ER employees but he always remained professional. It was his very own "probationary period". No one 'failed' probation, it just gave him a 'feel' for your level of skill, decision making and temperament. When Lou's 'probation' had ended, you knew it - as you were invited into his world and that of his family. It was an honour. His wife, Becky was the light of his life. An avid reader and decorator, Becky was featured in a local decorating magazine - you would have thought she had won the Nobel Prize. When his eldest daughter, Lauren was accepted into The Rhode Island School of Design and married...he was so proud. There was a time when Lou didn't have a lot of good things to say about lawyers, but when Joseph, his son became one, he beamed. He got a kick out of telling the story of a teenaged Cameron, his youngest daughter refusing to be seen riding in his new Mazda Miata . The times I saw Lou become a little teary-eyed was when he learned of his brother's promotion at a university and when he spoke of his grandchildren. As an ER Doc, he was the best. I can confidently say that I never saw him sweat. Always professional, grounded and consistent. I loved that about Lou. Never heard a curse from him, no tantrums or grandstanding.

In the few short days before his passing - the ER Family communicated largely by a social network site and we were able to remember some good times with Lou...

• Our system to assign ER docs was simple. We had two ER Doctors. If the Medical Record number ended in an even number - the patient would be assigned to the "Even" doc. If the MR number ended in an odd number, then Lou would get the patient as he was always the"Odd"doc. It fit and he liked it.
• According to Lou... "An Admission = number of allergies + number of complaints x number of miles one lives from the hospital. Anything over 500 = Admit" - Caveat; "Add 200 points to the final total for a positive suitcase sign"
• According to Lou..."Squirrelly-ness is directly proportional to the number of rings one wears on ones hands"
• According to Lou..."Rule Out MI (myocardial infarction) on any IDDM (insulin-dependant diabetic) with vague 'don't feel so good' complaint"
• Lou loved to play. One of our E.R. docs (Colletta) was a little obsessive-compulsive and required order. When Colletta was away from his desk, Lou would tangle up the phone cords and mess up the papers on his desk just to watch him put everything back.
• Upon entering a patient's room, Lou would clasp his hands together, peer over his bifocals and say, "So, tell me your troubles today."
• Most entries were of how much Lou meant to everyone, how he honoured us all with his sincere interest and observations but also with his gentle criticisms.

Although Lou may not have been as 'salty' as Edward "Bruce" Merritt - he was a character in his own right and we all loved him for his knowledge, integrity and skill. A great role model to us all both personally and professionally and for that I consider myself lucky to have known him. So, is that what it's all about? Louis Portera MD