Letters

READERS BITE BACK

Who Killed Libby Zion?

Regarding M. A. Farber's "Who Killed Libby Zion?" [December], the notion that every adverse outcome in medicine ipso facto means that negligent medical care was administered is a tragic, absurd notion of late-twentieth-century affluent urban Americans. Sometimes even in the best of hands and in the best hospitals, young patients die for reasons that are not completely clear, even after exhaustive analysis.

Whereas it is easy to empathize with Sidney Zion's grief over his daughter's tragic death, it is not so easy to stomach the overtly malicious manner in which the destruction of the careers of two young, obviously competent physicians has been pursued. If half the energy currently being devoted to the medicolegal postmortem in this case had been applied earlier to ascertaining the full extent of Libby Zion's drug abuse, she might be alive today.

BRUCE PATSNER, M.D., F.A.C.O.G.

Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology

School of Medicine

SUNY at Stony Brook, New York

Long before Libby Zion had the misfortune to walk into New York Hospital, a psychopharmacologist prescribed for me a monoamine oxidase inhibitor. He told me to be certain to inform any doctor or hospital that I was on the medication, because Demerol (and other medications and foods he specified) could be a "death sentence" (his words) to one on an MAO inhibitor (Nardil is one). Shortly after that, an internist repeated the warning to me in virtually the same terms.

The claim that "you have to know that you don't know something" to use the Physicians' Desk Reference does not pass even the test of common sense; determining the indications and contraindications of a medication with which the physician is not intimately familiar is precisely what the P.D.R. is for. Indeed,

I have never known a physician to fail to consult the P.D.R. when I informed him that I was taking any medication, except for most commonly prescribed antibiotics.

Who killed Libby Zion? Doctors who should have known that you don't give Demerol to a person on Nardil, or should at least have had the humility to consult the P.D.R. for contraindications of a medication with which they were not intimately familiar—that's who killed Libby Zion.

STEVEN GOLDBERG

Chairman, Department of Sociology

City College

City University of New York

Dr. Ira Hoffman contends that it should have been demanded of attending physician Dr. Raymond Sherman to "get your ass in here, doctor, this patient is in a lot of trouble." Some years ago I was a very ill hospitalized patient of Dr. Sherman's. My father, unlike Sidney Zion, was not a rich, celebrated attorney. I had no money. But in spite of Dr. Sherman's exhausting schedule, he came to examine me at all hours, whenever internists, residents, and staff suggested he do so. He was largely responsible for saving my life. Understandably, Mr. Zion is in great pain over the loss of his daughter. However, by going after a man of Dr. Sherman's extraordinary competence and reputation he is turning personal pain into public poison.

VALERIE BOHIGIAN

North Tarrytown, New York

A young girl is dead, and she should be alive. Should we be surprised that her powerful father is not letting us forget his daughter's untimely death and the horrific truth behind that death, that a major medical institution made an awful mistake? If Sidney Zion's actions will make a difference, save a life or another parent's hardship over losing a child, more power to him.

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NINA L. COLMAN

New York, New York

After reading about Libby Zion, I have to believe that even the most uninitiated in medical knowledge would have to see that the only person who possibly posed a threat to her was herself. Your description of a young woman who seemed to make a career out of visiting doctors and walking away with a cornucopia of prescriptions (some of them contraindicated with one another), not to mention her use of less legitimate substances, made me ask, How did she last so long? Nardil, for instance, is extremely volatile, and can have devastating side effects if used with certain other drugs and foods.

As a twelve-year veteran of emergency nursing, I know it is not uncommon for patients to be less than honest and open with health professionals; that's part of the challenge of our job. Sidney Zion's need to place blame on the doctors and hospital that tried to sort out the mess his daughter had created for herself only compounds the tragedy. Libby Zion lost her life not through anybody's "abandonment" or "neglect," but perhaps through believing the myth that there is always a pill or a medical miracle to cure what ails you. The other part of that myth is that there must always be a party responsible for tragic events— never just happenstance.

When people have worked at damaging their delicate machinery, it is incomprehensible to lay blame on those who try to fix it. Malpractice suits should aid those who have a real grievance. The Zions should stop their efforts to destroy more lives, and deal with their loss.

MARCEY ROSENBAUM, R.N., C.E.N.

Chicago, Illinois

Ballet-hoo

We are the authors of the letter to the board of directors of the New York City Ballet to which Stephen Schiff refers in "Life After Balanchine" [December]. Mr. Schiff's article portrays the rapidly decaying state of affairs at the New York City Ballet with keen accuracy. We found Theodore Rogers's comment about filing our letter with the rest of his "junk mail" particularly illustrative of our predicament. With our artistic director and board of directors refusing to acknowledge the existence of a problem, and with dancers too fearful of losing their jobs to come forward and speak candidly, there seems no way to reverse the decay of the New York City Ballet. Thanks to Mr. Schiff, the dancers have been given a voice, which has been denied them for far too long. Perhaps it's not too late to save the New York City Ballet after all. Thank you for your efforts to represent honestly the state of affairs in the company.

DANCERS IN NEW YORK CITY BALLET

In response to Stephen Schiff's article, I would like to describe the Heather Watts I know. During NYCB's hiatus last fall, Heather volunteered as a last-minute replacement costume designer for an educational musical play about AIDS called Positive Me, which I directed at La MaMa. Her commitment and generosity were unflagging, her support and warmth unswerving. She was loved and appreciated by the entire company. I am honored to have worked with such a willing and wonderful collaborator.

ETHAN SILVERMAN

New York, New York

By omitting the names of the other principal women at the New York City Ballet you unwittingly support the weird casting that takes place there. I agree that Kyra Nichols, Darci Kistler, and Maria Calegari should be seen more often, but so should Merrill Ashley, Judith Fugate, Valentina Kozlova, Stephanie Saland, and Patricia McBride. Frequently these ballerinas do not perform for weeks at a time, and audiences are subjected to changes of program at the drop of a hat—all owing to the misguided idea that the second cast or understudy will not do justice to the work scheduled. For a company with almost too many superb dancers, this policy should be changed, as all the abovementioned women are capable of dancing any or all of Balanchine's great works.

BRENDA B. ANDERSON

New York, New York

Stephen Schiff in his article refers to choreographers Eliot Feld, Lar Lubovitch, and William Forsythe as "neotrendy." Eliot Feld choreographed his first ballet (for American Ballet Theatre) in 1967. Lar Lubovitch began choreographing in 1968, and William Forsythe in the mid-seventies. Schiff may not have liked the New York City Ballet's American Music Festival, and specifically may not have liked these choreographers' contributions to the festival; however, neo-trendy is simply incorrect as a description of the work of three highly talented, successful, well-established choreographers.

DONNA ROSS

New York, New York

Man, Oh, Man

Man Ray was everything that Billy Kliiver and John Richardson said he was in "Objects of Desire" [December] except the "only American artist to be recognized internationally ... as a major avant-garde pioneer between the two wars." There was also Alexander Calder, whose work was widely known and admired in Europe, and whose Mercury Fountain stood next to Picasso's Guernica in the Spanish Pavilion at the 1937 Paris World's Fair.

PETER BLAKE

Washington, D.C.

The Bess Mess

As the daughter of Arnold Grant, Bess Myerson's second husband, I am responding to the inaccuracies concerning him in Marie Brenner's "Compromising Positions" [December]. Brenner states that my father seemed "to have the right bona fides" but was "another pointyshoe primitive, hiding behind his own mask," who "invented himself, changing his name from Goldman and doing everything possible to distance himself from his father, a Bronx lawyer."

As a young lawyer, my dad shortened his name from Goldstein (not Goldman) to Grant to abbreviate his name, not to hide his Jewish heritage, of which he was very proud. He was a chairman of the Joint Defense Appeal of New York, the fund-raising agency at that time for the American Jewish Committee and the Anti-Defamation League of B'nai B'rith. The American Jewish Committee presented him in 1964 with its Human Relations Award. In fact, it was at a Joint Defense Appeal dinner that he met Bess Myerson.

He had a brilliant mind, and he earned stature in his profession. I do not think such friends and colleagues as Hubert Humphrey, Adlai Stevenson, Simon Rifkind, and Jacob Javits would have thought he was a "pointy-shoe primitive." Or John F. Kennedy, who appointed him to the Eleanor Roosevelt Memorial Foundation. Or Louis Nizer, who made him a partner in his law firm. Or Mayor Teddy Kollek of Jerusalem, to which my father donated a library. Bess Myerson did not seem to think he was a "pointy-shoe primitive." She married him. Twice. He was a great "catch." That the marriages did not work was a sadness to my family, who sincerely wished for my father's happiness.

My dad came from a middle-class Bronx family. His father, my grandfather, a respected criminal lawyer, was proud of his son. They stayed in close, supportive contact all of their lives.

Finally, my dad did not suffer a "psychotic breakdown." He was institutionalized for Alzheimer's disease in 1977, six years after he divorced Bess Myerson. He died of that heartbreaking disease in 1980.

SALLY GRANT MORSE

New York, New York

Girl Talk

Assuring the reader, "Don't get me wrong. I'm a guy. I've been around," James Wolcott in "The Good-Bad Girls" [December] characterizes Margaret Diehl, Mary Gaitskill, and Kristin McCloy as "good girls who want to be bad," because they write explicitly about sex. Wolcott thinks they lack basic credentials; Gaitskill only worked briefly as a stripper. (Perhaps one full year as a call girl would suffice?)

I don't remember a reviewer ever saying of Henry Miller or Philip Roth or, say, Mario Puzo, "Aw, come on, how much could this guy really know about that sex stuff?" From reading Wolcott's review, you'd think that sex just didn't have all that much to do with women.

Diehl, Gaitskill, and McCloy are gifted writers whose books deal with so much more than sexuality. Unfortunately, many of their reviewers seem unable to do the job of the professional and conscientious critic—to set aside personal prejudices and illuminate the craft and complexity of a work.

PAULA SHARP

New York, New York

CORRECTION:

In Dominick Dunne's "The Passion of Baron Thyssen" (January), the name Muck Flick was printed as Mick Flick, who is his brother.

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