Published: October 25, 2009 11:27 pm      

DeANN CARDARELLA | Saying goodbye to my guardian angel

Something happened this week that made me take a mental journey back in time.

With my 50th birthday not so far off, I thought about the people I have been blessed to know in my lifetime.

There are family members, friends and relatives, which you would expect, but there is one man who was a constant throughout most my life. Aside from my father, brother and now my husband, this man was always there when I needed him, when my family needed him. He was like a security blanket, as long as he was with us, all would be right. But this week, it doesn’t feel so right.

The passing of Dr. Clyde E. Harriger has left a hole in the hearts of many.

We are just one family of the hundreds upon hundreds of patients with stories. It was

Dr. Harriger who announced to my mother she gave birth to a skinny, little baby with what he called “chicken legs.” He brought many of us into the world and was our personal guardian angel over the years.

As a child, I remember going to the Campbell Building in Geistown for one of my many office visits. It was standing-room only as patients lined the hallway waiting to get into the office just to sit down.

One year, I had strep throat and went to see him the day before my birthday. When we finally got in to see him, it was my birthday, just a little past midnight. He gave me two shots, a bag of pills and said, “Happy Birthday, Kid. This one’s on me.”

When I was in second grade, I contracted encephalitis. When my parents took me to his office, he came out to the car to examine me and feared I had the life-threatening illness. He told my parents he would meet them at the hospital and then he closed his practice and joined them.

He ordered a spinal tap.

Another doctor disagreed and said he doubted I had encephalitis and discouraged my parents from putting me through the trauma of a spinal.

Dr. Harriger turned to my parents and said it was their decision. Without flinching, they put their trust in him. A spinal was done and sure enough, it was encephalitis.

During that time period, there were several cases in the region, some resulting in death.

The opposing doctor told my parents they owed my life to Dr. Harriger. That was nearly 40 years ago.

Over the years, there were many visits – strep throat, earaches, tonsillitis, physicals, you name it.

In my early 20s, I lived in Harrisburg for a few years.

When I got sick, I’d always come home to Dr. Harriger.

At 26, I lost my mother to ovarian cancer, a cancer that all too often goes undiagnosed and is known as the silent killer.

I will never forget my first visit with Dr. Harriger following her death. With tears in his eyes he said, “I am so sorry, Kid, that I didn’t pick up on that.”

With all the respect in the world, I said to him, “No offense Dr. Harriger, you’re a doctor, not God.”

With that he broke. The truth was, he was way more than a doctor. He was an exceptional humanitarian with healing powers, time and a story for every patient.

This is one “kid” who would like to send out a huge thank you to heaven above for the gift of Dr. Harriger and an extra special thank you to his wonderful family for unselfishly sharing him with us.



DeAnn Hadix-Cardarella is a Richland resident and a freelance writer.