My friend took his life in 2020

In 2020 I lost one of my best friends, a very accomplished physician, to suicide.

Drew and I worked together in a summer research program in 2005 at our small liberal arts college. I was a rising junior and he was a rising sophomore. We were both type A and both premed. We clashed some at first, but soon enough we became best friends. Drew was always super serious and meticulous, and I made it my task to bring levity to situations and try to make him laugh. One of my favorite memories is us sitting in the common equipment room of the chemistry department running biochemical assays together. We would play alt rock music on the stereo while sunlight streamed in from outside during the hot Texas summer. He would prepare the samples under the vent hood and I would collect data on the computer. In the meantime, I would read him articles out of the Wall Street Journal to pass the time. It was such an easy-going time in life!

I went to work for a company after college, but Drew went straight to medical school. He got married the summer before and I was honored to be in his wedding party. 

Drew realized pretty early that he wanted to become an orthopedic surgeon. A year after he started medical school, I started medical school, too. Two years later he came to Houston to interview for ortho residency at my school. He messaged me and we got together before his interview dinner. About three years later he came back to Houston to interview for trauma fellowship and again reached out to me. I gave him a ride to the airport so that we could catch up on our lives. By that time, he had two children and was expecting his third. I was so happy for him. It seemed he had achieved all of his dreams.

In late 2019 I reached out to my friend to see how he was doing and found out that he was experiencing family troubles. I could tell during our talk he was in a dark place. After that, I tried to reach out to him often by text and phone just to check in on him.

On June 11, 2020, Drew’s brother reached out to me and let me know that Drew was missing. Two days later they found his dead body in a pond near his home. I requested the autopsy report and learned that he had died from a self-inflicted bullet wound to the head. 

I think about Drew often and I miss him a lot. It was such a loss for the world and I always wonder if there's more I could have done to save his life. No person, no matter how accomplished, is immune from the grips of life-threatening depression.

Our last picture together at the Houston Hobby Airport
January 12, 2016



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