[2] In 1964, Blumberg left the NIH to take a leadership position at the Institute for Cancer Research at Fox Chase in Philadelphia. He asked me to join him in this new venture, but,

after considerable deliberation, I declined because I was still bent on completing my clinical training in medicine. Hence, this was another major decision Roxadustat point in my life. I am happy with my decision, but it is remotely possible that had I gone with Barry and pursued the Australia antigen to its ultimate link with HBV, I might have shared the Nobel Prize with him. Highly speculative, and I do not regret “the road not taken.” Blumberg taught me a lot. The major lesson, as the antigen story played out, was perseverance. Blumberg had dogged persistence. The Australia antigen could have been dropped at any point as an interesting—but unimportant—finding, but Blumberg would not let it go. I remember a wall-size PF-02341066 purchase chart in his office where he would write down hypotheses, the experiments necessary to prove or disprove a given hypothesis, and the outcome of those experiments. He was never daunted by a failed hypothesis because it only generated

a new one. He never ran out of ideas and never got discouraged; his tenacity and enthusiasm were great models for my later studies on non-A, non-B. The other thing that Barry taught me was the value of stored samples. I have never thrown out a sample since I met him. My “Blumberg years” were a vital part of my development and I will always be

grateful to him. Barry died a few years ago at age 87 in the midst of his third or fourth unique career. He died suddenly, one hour after giving a major lecture on astrobiology to the assembled masses at NASA. In my published eulogy to him,[3] I wrote the following: Blumberg was a complex and brilliant man, a man of eclectic interests and myriad accomplishments, an imaginative and adventurous man, a tenacious and dedicated man, a deeply philosophical man, 上海皓元 a man for all seasons—and all of these made him a Nobel man. I left the NIH in 1964 to complete a second-year residency in medicine at the University Hospitals in Seattle. It was a strong and wonderful program in a beautiful city. A coresident in that program, who has become a lifelong friend, was Blaine Hollinger. In retrospect, I would have spent a longer time in Seattle, but after being there for only one month, I had to commit to a two-year hematology fellowship and I wasn’t ready to do that. Hence, I came back east to do a hematology fellowship at Georgetown University under Charles Rath, who became both my mentor and my father figure. Dr. Rath taught me as much about life as about hematology. He also taught me the value of humor in teaching.