Springs doctor's novel explores death

Dr. Gil Porat watches dozens of people die every year, and he's thought a lot about what makes for a good death or an excruciating one.

The Colorado Springs doc is a hospitalist, a physician who cares for patients from the time they enter the hospital until they are discharged - to their homes or to the morgue. It's the kind of job that could drive a person to therapy.

Porat turned to writing a novel as his balm, figuring it was cheaper than a psychiatrist and "a bit less painful than electroconvulsive shock therapy." The result - after seven years of work - is "The Other Face of Murder," a story of murder among friends. Porat will discuss the book and sign copies Saturday at Poor Richard's bookstore.

Though he preferred writing a book to shock therapy, the experience of being rejected by publishers time and again was hard for a smart, opinionated doctor who is accustomed to being coveted for his skills.

"The arts are the most painful profession out there. It was a very difficult experience to get rejection letters," said Porat, 35, who still has the boyish face that inspired nurses to call him "Doogie" during his residency.

He attended writers conferences, studied the craft and took editors' advice. He finally succeeded, getting published in April by upstart Alondra Press.

The job of writing may be vastly different from his day job, but the subject matter didn't stray far from his realm of hospital hallways, medical mysteries and death. "The Other Face of Murder" takes a look at the ethics of end-of-life issues through the prism of two extremely different deaths, and forces the reader to ponder whether the general definitions of murder and suicide even apply in these circumstances. The result is provocative, ambiguous and, at times, surprisingly funny.

Porat was determined to entertain as he educated.

"So many of the topics I was trying to cover are so boring to read about unless they blow up, like in the Terri Schiavo case," he said. "I get to see people die all different kinds of ways frequently. I do know that there is a good death and I do know there's a very bad way to die, and both are happening all the time."

He was also determined to avoid being preachy. He doesn't claim to know the answers to the conundrums about how we die, but he does know the questions we should be asking: Are we using too many resources to prolong life a few more days, when those resources could possibly be shifted to prevention or early treatment? Are we serving the patient or the family members' sense of obligation? Should we be dying in sterile institutions or at home? Should we - brace yourself - ration end-of-life care to avoid the looming health care crisis? Or is the greater risk that we'll allow doctors to play God?

"I want to start the debate that no one's talking about," Porat said. "And I want to get people thinking, and I want to challenge them. People can make up their own minds about what the characters do and whether it's ethical." The dying aren't a powerful lobby because they don't have the time or the energy, Porat said, but everyone will face these issues firsthand eventually.

As if to underscore his point, a woman at the next table in the coffee shop where Porat was being interviewed stopped him to ask about his book. Patty Crossey-Ross, 51, is fighting two forms of cancer, and is also a volunteer who takes her dog to visit hospice patients. She was fascinated by the end-of-life issues he's discussing.

"See?" Porat said. "Disease and mortality is going to affect us all."