The first time I met Dr. Greg Henry, he promptly informed me that he had shoes and belts older than me. Not knowing whether to laugh or be intimidated, I stared at him blankly and he chuckled. He quickly took me under his wing. Beyond his professional achievements, Greg was revered for his larger-than-life personality, sharp wit, and generous mentorship. He believed that medicine was as much about humanity as it was about science, emphasizing the importance of compassion, communication, and connection with patients.
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ACEP Now: Vol 44 – No 01 – January 2025For those of us who had the privilege of knowing him, he will be best remembered as a philosopher, curmudgeon, stand-up comedian, mentor, and self-proclaimed “junkyard dog” of emergency medicine. A dynamic and engaging speaker, he could blend humor with pragmatism—sometimes hurling insults and quoting Shakespeare in the same breath.
Many of you have your favorite “Henry-isms.” I believe Greg would want to give us some last provoking thoughts and laughs, so I will share some of my favorites.
- “The white blood cell count is the last refuge of the intellectually destitute.”
- “The biggest impediment to the correct diagnosis is the previous diagnosis.”
- “There are three great lies in life—the check is in the mail, size doesn’t matter, and all systems reviewed and otherwise negative.”
- “Medicine is show business for ugly people.”
- “You can call me a bad husband. You can call be a bad father.” (Neither of which were true.) “But don’t you ever call me a bad doctor; now I’m offended.”
- “When a patient bounces back, they are giving you another chance to get the diagnosis right. If someone comes to the ED three times, then admit them. I don’t care if it’s the pizza guy. If he comes to the ED three times, I admit him.”
- “To diagnose a stroke: Watch them walk. Listen to them talk. Look at their eyes. Your neuro exam is never done until you’ve watched them walk.”
- “In medicine and life, don’t ask questions you don’t really want to know the answer to. I’m happily married … so why would I ask my wife if she’s cheating on me?” (She wasn’t, it was just part of his humor.)
- “The mortality rate in this country has not changed—it is still one death per person.”
- “Every time I put on the [white] coat, I stop for two minutes. I stop for two minutes and remember Galen and Hippocrates. I pick up the coat: ‘To whatever house I shall enter, it shall be for the benefit of the sick.’ At that moment I am Doctor of Medicine; I carry with me a 2,500-year tradition, and shame on me if I do not carry it out with dignity for the next eight hours. My problems are not the patient’s problems. For that period of time, I am the agent and servant of the patient—I am proud to be the servant of the sick. I put on that coat and I’m a better person. All my petty prejudices should disappear when the coat goes on. That’s what the coat is all about.” —James Mills, MD, Memorial Lecture, ACEP 1998 Scientific Assembly.
When I posted about his passing on social media, there were hundreds of comments and stories within hours from physicians all over the world. Reading them made me cry and laugh in the same moment. Someone shared a story of Greg helping a stranger aboard an airplane, a patient hiding under a blanket on the flight with tremors. Greg diagnosed him with alcohol withdrawal and unabashedly ordered two gin and tonics from the flight attendant—one for the patient and one for himself. There were also so many heartwarming stories about his VIP patients—the homeless, the marginalized, and those forgotten about by society. He had love for them all.
Toward the end of his career, he refused to call himself retired. He hated that word. He stayed active in many legal and educational aspects of emergency medicine. He volunteered his time to testify and defend emergency physicians in lawsuits and spoke at residency programs around the globe. He always wanted to know what was going on with the College.
I recently reread Tuesdays with Morrie and it made me treasure his regular “check-ins” to discuss life. They weren’t always long conversations and they weren’t always on Tuesdays, but they are now memories that I cherish. He told me about his kids and his grandkids and always asked about my family. We only talked about death once. As only Greg could do, he chuckled and told me that after he passed, he “fully expected people to feed off of his carcass like vultures.” What can I say, the man had a way with words. He was nothing if not consistent. He was saying it so that I would laugh, but I think he meant he had a lot to share. He hoped emergency physicians would carry on his legacy of teaching, storytelling, making people laugh, and giving back to patients and the specialty.
Dr. Greg Henry will be remembered not only as a pioneer in his field but also as a compassionate healer, a visionary teacher, and a cherished friend. Farewell Greg, your shift is over. Your legacy is one of excellence, empathy, and enduring impact.
Dr. Schmitz is professor, Uniformed Services University; vice chair of education in the department of emergency medicine at the NMCSD, and a Past-President of ACEP.
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