Doctor Ricardo*
B’s voice sounded odd on the phone this morning, as if gasping for air. News like this doesn’t get across without disturbing breathing. News like this instantly freezes the present and forcefully turns the memory down a single track, on which dates, events, words and faces resurface all with a surprising acuity. We both new Krzysztof for years, B, however, for much longer and differently than myself. Most of us at GV new him through Ewa, his only daughter, for whom he was the focal point in the world, and she always made sure that at all important moments of her/our life, her father was around. He was never on the stage, but we felt him in the audience or in the wings. A careful, understanding observer and wise supporter.
From a number of private encounters I remember him as a quiet, gentle, almost self-effacing man, sparse with words, asking questions rather than indulging in monologues. On most occasions, it was hard not to notice Krzysztof’s most evident trait – his outstanding job-related sense of duty and necessity. It was his aura, something that unmistakably transpired and confirmed that he was on a mission, working tirelessly both for others – his patients, and with others – his team. This quality of his alone summarizes the human condition – as a doctor he knew only too well that there is no equilibrium between man and the forces of nature, yet as man he managed to recreate that equilibrium through work and compassion, the ability he also successfully grafted onto his younger colleagues.
I bumped into him a few months ago in front of the barber shop near the hospital. As it happened we had the same hairdresser. Today, while Agnieszka was cropping my hair, I told her that her regular customer was no longer with us. She gazed into the mirror and held her arm raised. A minute of awkward silence followed.
*Krzysztof Kanigowski, surgeon, died in Warsaw today