Family Physician of the Year treasures 'family' in family practice
When the Dismonds' family doctor made house calls in the 1930s and '40s, young Samuel was filled with awe. Excited and grateful that the physician would come help a sick family member, the child was convinced that he, too, would be a doctor some day.
"We all have heroes, and certainly my family doctor was one of my heroes," said Samuel Dismond, M.D., now 66. "I could show you my high school yearbook. Under my picture is the caption, 'wants to be a doctor.'"
Dismond not only achieved his dream of becoming an FP, but also has provided care to the residents of Flint, Mich., for 35 years. He serves as a role model and community leader, breaking down racial barriers and helping youth secure a brighter future.
Recognizing his enthusiasm, optimism and compassion, the Congress of Delegates honored Dismond Sept. 15 as the AAFP's 1999 Family Physician of the Year. In his rousing acceptance speech, he told the crowd, "I believe, as family physicians, we can fly! I believe, as family physicians, we can touch the sky!"
Samuel Dismond, M.D., and his wife, Janice, were joined by their seven children, nine grandchildren and other family members who attended the Congress to share in his honor. "All the pediatrics and adolescent medicine I know -- it wasn't all in the books," Dismond said.When life hands you lemons ... Not one to let minor obstacles stand in his way, Dismond finds a bright side to every situation.
For example, soon after graduating from Lincoln University in Pennsylvania, he was drafted into the U.S. Army and stationed in Kentucky. Dismond encountered rampant racism; in full uniform, he was once asked to move to the back of a bus. But his stint in the military qualified him for the G.I. Bill of Rights -- which called for payment of educational expenses. He received an early discharge and headed for Howard University's medical school in Washington. "There always seems to be a kind of balance," he said. "There was frustration and despair, but on the other hand, I didn't have to run around to several jobs trying to support myself."
Dismond graduated 19th in his medical school class but had trouble finding a residency through the national matching program. His first choice was at the hospital in his hometown. He didn't get it, and the position was never filled. "That sent a message to me that they weren't taking black people at that time," he said. His classmates encountered similar problems, so many accepted residency positions in the more liberal states of Michigan and California.
He has never chosen to be bitter about those early days of his career. "I'm pretty much an optimistic kind of person," Dismond said.
Family values. The best part of his job is the people connection. "I'm a member of my patients' families, just like their grandpa or brother," he said. "Last year, I went in to examine a newborn, and the mother was there, her mother was there, and the mother's mother was there. Four generations all there in the room! That is a wonderful feeling of family and continuity to have people stay with you that long."
Dismond cherishes his own family, as well. He and his wife, Janice -- a registered nurse and Dismond's office manager -- reared seven children and now have nine grandchildren. When their children were young, Dismond said, he encouraged them all to read voraciously, appreciate art and music, care for others and give something back to society. His work paid off: According to one letter that recommended Dismond for the Family Physician of the Year award, "(Dismond) works hard at changing the world and making it a better place. He does this first by having created a wonderful family, which serves as an example of how to do that right."
In 1996, his wife and children surprised Dismond by commissioning 12 pieces of artwork depicting family life and family medicine, which they donated in his honor to Hurley Medical Center, where he practices. "That was one of the highlights of my life," he said.
Community leader. Dismond hopes that his leadership and visibility in the community will pave the way for others to achieve their dreams.
He is the first African-American to be chief of staff at Hurley Medical Center, a 476-bed city hospital in Flint. Finishing up his second two-year term, he has been nominated for a third term. "It's such an honor to represent the medical staff," Dismond said. "I was at church on Sunday when a couple came up to me and said, 'Dr. Dismond, we want to compliment you on your hospital. Our child had such wonderful care.' Unsolicited, they just came up to me because they know I'm chief of staff. It makes you want to try harder to make sure you're doing a good job."
Last year, Dismond received a fellowship from the International Society on Hypertension in Blacks and attended the world meeting in London. "It was wonderful to sit with other physicians interested in figuring out the problem of hypertension that is so prevalent and so deadly in American blacks," he said. Attending the conference gave him more credibility on the topic with patients, as well.
As principal speaker at Flint's 1997 Salute to Black Scholars, Dismond helped recognize black high school students graduating with excellent scholastic records.
In his free time. Dismond also provides care at the Genesee County Free Medical Clinic, strongly advocates physical fitness (often exercising side-by-side with patients at a fitness center associated with the hospital), serves as a preceptor to medical students and residents, and works to combat substance abuse.
Another area of interest is hospice, which recognized him with its Honor Your Doctor Award in 1995 for his dedication and service. Dismond said he learned to appreciate end-of-life care when his mother was terminally ill in 1990. "When she was dying, the physician in me said, 'Oh my goodness, she needs IV fluids, she needs this, she needs that,'" he said. "But I talked to a very compassionate hospice nurse, and she calmed me right down. I was better able to understand that it was my mother's will to go with hospice, and I knew there was no cure for her cancer. Having gone through that, I'm more of a hospice champion, and I can do death counseling much better than I could before."
