Norman — They lived in different worlds, at different times and spoke different languages but Maria Montessori would likely have let out an Italian cheer for David Clemens. Both trained physicians became more interested in education than medicine — one just a bit later in his career.
Clemens, 62, a respected physician for 30 years and a senior partner in the 13-doctor Norman Clinic, will hang up his stethoscope, move to Seattle and, after he becomes certified and lands a job, teach young children in a Montessori grade school.
It’s not a mid-life thing some men go through. He’s not going to buy a big motorcycle and grow a beard. (He did those things years ago.) Clemens wants to really lower his stress and move into a field without the growing hassles and headaches of modern medicine. Too many things are sticking to him these days. His Teflon, he says, is wearing thin.
“I just want to be able to focus on one task at a time and draw a little energy from them instead of them drawing energy out of me all the time,” said Clemens, a nearly lifelong Norman resident.
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Thirty years of practice seemed like a magic stopping point. His wife, Glenda, will leave her nurse practitioner clinic that serves a great need in Norman. A daughter, Lorien, teaches in a Seattle suburb at the Montessori junior high level. A son, Raymond, works in a health food store for pets. Daughter Beth, also a teacher, will remain in Norman, with the Clemenses’ grandson, Lucas.
Clemens, the son of OU professor Howard Clemens and his wife, Effie, came to Norman as a child. The campus was his playground. He lived near and attended Washington Elementary School (now the district’s administration building), West Junior High and Norman High School.
In college, he intended to become a scientist like his father but medical school looked more appealing. That was at a time when the practice of medicine wasn’t so complicated and draining, particularly for primary care physicians.
“I’ve been progressively frustrated and unhappy about the practice of medicine,” he said. “Really, if I were a ship I’d pull into drydock and get my barnacles scraped, but I’m not a ship.”
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Out of medical school, he practiced in Mooreland for two years before moving back to Norman, his hometown.
“When Chuck Clayton and I started practicing, we charged $18.50 for an office visit and we’re taking home about the same amount of money today.”
“In medicine, we’re trying to please everyone and it’s crazy. It makes me feel bad every time I have a meltdown. It’s hard to stay positive and not get down in that quagmire.”
Drug advertising, insurance reimbursement and government payment scales have distorted the practice. Some savvy patients, armed with a little information, come in with a laundry list of prescriptions they’ve seen advertised. Seeing patients at two hospitals lengthens his day, too. He leaves thinking health care in Norman is in good shape, with multiple specialties and caring doctors.
One of those doctors, Stephen Lindsey, has shared weekend call with Clemens for 28 years. They merged their practices with Norman Clinic in 1996 but covered for each other long before that. Their relationship may have been predestined. Howard Clemens was Lindsey’s zoology professor at OU and got him thinking about medical school. Clemens’ leaving, Lindsey said, leaves a “big hole” in his life.
“I can’t imagine what my professional schedule and life would have been like without David’s help. We were so much alike, and yet different in many ways. He was so active with Boy Scouts. I had two daughters. I was a big OU football fan, and David would (almost) always graciously cover for me on OU-Texas Weekend. He would take off on Scuba trips or motorcycle poker runs, and I would take care of our patients. I always knew, without a doubt, he would always do the right thing for my patients during my absences, and I think he had the same level of trust in my abilities. Therein lies the key to a successful partnership: We have always trusted each other; we had different styles of practicing medicine, but we could always count on each other.”
“His leaving for Seattle will truly leave a big hole in my life,” Lindsey said. “I will assist in taking good care of his patients, but I will miss my partner and my friend.”
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Clemens traces his life-changing decision to the frustrations of medicine and Dale Carnegie classes. The discussion turned to reducing stress in one’s life and getting to a point where you enjoyed work more. He recalled a time in his life when he worked with Boy Scouts and youth sports, thinking a teaching career would give him similar satisfaction.
He’ll miss the ease of getting out of the city quickly on his Honda Gold Wing most days and the two and three generations of families he has taken care of here. He’ll take his geocaching hobby, a high-tech treasure hunt with a GPS, to Seattle. He’ll keep his medical license but doesn’t plan to practice unless the day job doesn’t work out. Glenda has found a position with the state health department there.
“I’ve been honored to be allowed to participate in the health care of the people of Norman,” Clemens said. “It’s humbling and sobering to think of the people who have taken me inside their lives and problems. It’s been an honor and a privilege to have served them.”
Andy Rieger 366-3543 editor@normantranscript.com
