Serendipity - St Georges University

Transcription

MACE
St. George’s University
2012
Mace 2012
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© 2012 St. George’s University
University Centre, Grenada, West Indies
c/o The North American Correspondent:
University Support Services, LLC
3500 Sunrise Highway, Building 300
Great River, NY 11739
www.sgu.edu
[email protected]
Cover photo credit:
Arian Nachat
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Mace 2012
MACE 2012
Serendipity
Mace 2012 celebrates the serendipity in our lives. We’ve all made
fortunate discoveries by accident. We revel in finding something
valuable or delightful when we’re not looking for it. The St.
George’s University community is full of these unexpected and
fortunate discoveries. This year’s issue is a compilation of these
coincidental encounters.
Contents
Mace 2012 | Serendipity
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2011 Photo Contest Winners
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Serendipity Versus Destiny
15
Carifta Plains
16
A Hot Cup of Coffee
17
I Will Wait For You
18
Meet As Rivers Do
20A Diamond in the Rough; Grenada
Cardiology Associates
23Being at the Right Place at
the Right Time
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Serendipity UpEnded
26
A World Without Technology
27
Annus Mirabilis—The Year of Wonders
29
Joy Unknown
30
Improving Your Medical Poker Skills
32
My Father’s Eyes
33
The Beginning
34
From One Paradise To Another
58
A Veterinarian in a Medical School
59
In the Early Hours
60
Do Not Be Afraid
62
“I Wouldn’t Change Anything!”
63Ebbing/Receding
36
The Evolution of Beauty Enhanced
37Untitled
38
Like Déjà Vu (All Over Again)
39Detour
64
Seeds of Great
65What a Wonderful
Educational Experience
66
Her Name
68
Death Announcement
70
Oh, The Good Old Days!
71
Hopeless in Grenada
41
Who Are We?
42
On Serendipity
43
Moments to a Destiny Unknown
44
Serendipity…Thanks to SGUSVM
72Basically, We’re Complicated: How
SGU students fail to take the easy way
45
Painting the Town Red
74
The Story
46
Serendipitous Emotional Chords
75
As Luck Would Have It
50
A Lesson Learned
76
A Fortunate Accident
51
Serendipity Blues, Grenada
77Serendipity
52
Flowers of Grenada
78Amazonicos
54Grandpa
56Serendipity, Bashrut, or the
Magic of Grenada
57
Appellation Mr.
Mace 2012
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2011 Photo Contest Winners
The fifth annual installment of the
St. George’s University online photo contest,
Focus: An SGU Perspective, was a tremendous
success, eliciting an outstanding array of
submissions from students, alumni, faculty, and friends of SGU.
Each year we ask the St. George’s community-at-large to
capture in photos the spirit of the people, places, and things
that have inspired them. We are continually spellbound by the
submissions we receive—both in the volume of submissions
as well as in their quality and diversity. In the categories of
Photojournalistic, Motion Blur, Landscape, Illusion, Silhouette,
and Texture, we received more than 500 submissions—an
increase of more than 25 percent from the 2011 edition. It was
a joy to sort through all of this year’s submissions, although
their excellence made the selection process—based on artistic
interpretation, creativity, and technique—all the more difficult.
This annual photo contest has provided the SGU family
a forum in which to stir the readership’s senses, to take their
collective minds to fascinating places throughout Grenada
and the world. We look forward to seeing what next year’s
participants have in store.
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Mace 2012
Best in show
and
first place
Photojournalistic
Blessings | Arian Nachat
Mace 2012
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First place
Illusion
Above Thought | Nicholas Sakis
First place
Landscape
Neuschwanstein | Myra Chai
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First place
Silhouette
Sunset Serenity—Prickly Bay | Lindsay Taylor
First place
Texture
A Ripple in Time | Nicholas Sakis
Mace 2012
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First place
Motion Blur
Tango Dancing in Buenos Aires | Aparna Iyer
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Photo Contest 2011
Second Place
Landscape
Icelandic Turf Houses
Alice So
Second Place
Silhouette
Boy and Dog
Elron Mighty
Second Place
Motion Blur
Fourth of July
Cameron Erickson
Second Place
Illusion
Blue Escape
Luvnish Karnani
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Photo Contest 2011
Second Place
Photojournalistic
Chacun pour Soi et
Dieu pour Tous
Fawaaz Nuzeebun
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Third Place
Landscape
Jesmond Dene
Richard Hayward
5
Third Place
Texture
Sea Fan
Haley Knowlton
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Second Place
Texture
Serpent
Alexander Faludi
2
Third Place
Motion Blur
If I Don’t Move, You
Can’t See Me
Moshe Roberts
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Third Place
Motion Blur
Madrid
Jashan Singh
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Third Place
Silhouette
Double bubble
Johansen Sylvester
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Photo Contest 2011
Third Place
Photojournalistic
The Lone Musician
Varun Kapoor
Honorable Mention
Illusion
Inversion
Liz Brown
Honorable Mention
Silhouette
Hounded
Crystal Lock
Honorable Mention
Landscape
The Andes Mountain Range
from my Airplane Seat
Dawnelle Clyne i
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2
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Honorable Mention
Silhouette
Even Shadows
Have Shadows
Varun Kapoor
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7
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Honorable Mention
Photojournalistic
Young Girls of the Wayu
Tribe of Colombia
Dawnelle Clyne
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Honorable Mention
Landscape
Sunset on the Mara
Katherine MacCallum
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Honorable Mention
Texture
Milky Mess
Luvnish Karnani
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Honorable Mention
Silhouette
The Summer End
Marie Fielden
10
Honorable Mention
Texture
Water Beats Rock
Rob Easton
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Mace 2012
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Serendipity Versus Destiny
By Marcus de Manicou
the self-help motivators who recommend “serendipitous living.”
Great. You don’t have to be actually searching. Just be ready
to accept anything good that life throws at you. As one selfhelp motivator has declared, a serendipitous windfall is “the
Universe’s way of bringing into your life what is meant to be,
ccording to the Office of National
and what is totally (and ecstatically) unexpected.” Eh? I would
Statistics, 97.8 percent of English-speaking
have sworn that was destiny but now I’m confused.
people know the officially UN-approved
definition of serendipity below. (I bet that
lots of Mace contributors have quoted this one.)
Serendipity is like looking for a needle in a haystack and
finding the farmer’s daughter.
As a longtime sufferer of compulsive-obsessive behavior,
Serendipity is endlessly useful. You return from a shopping
expedition for your wife/partner/spouse/whatever and she/he/
whatever looks at you with disdain and a raised eyebrow and
points to your failures—item 4 (wrong brand, you dope), item 15
(wrong size, economy stupid) and item 26 (wrong item, not on
the list at all, you buffoon). You smile submissively and, without
you are searching for something really boring (the needle)
raising either eyebrow (or both), try the get-out words “Ah,
and flabbergasted to find something really interesting (the
serendipity.”
daughter). Comprenez? Serendipity pays off, always. But so
A true story for you. Picture the scene: an apartment block at
often serendipity is off helping others and ignores you. So,
the junction of the Cours de Vincennes and the Rue des Pyrenees
you’re searching the haystack and find a hungry lion instead.
in Paris on a public holiday. In a seventh-floor apartment, an
That would not be serendipity, but just a pity without the
18-month-old boy is left unattended by his parents with his
‘serendi’ part.
3-year-old sister. The boy finds an open window on to the
The world is split into three camps—the serendipity brigade,
balcony. Could he be searching for his missing parents? He
the destiny brigade, and our old friends the fence-sitting brigade.
climbs over the balcony rail. Gravity takes over. His swift descent
is broken softly by the awning of the cafe below the
apartment. The boy gently bounces off the awning
Serendipity pays off, always. But so often serendipity
to land in the arms of a passerby who just happens
is off helping others and ignores you. So, you’re
and well. Later, a waiter at the cafe tells the police
searching the haystack and find a hungry lion instead.
to be a local doctor. The doctor pronounces him fit
that normally the awning is wound in on public
holidays but the windup mechanism was broken.
Serendipity or destiny? Come on, you cannot
believe the boy’s adventure was destiny’s work.
Are all nice things that happen to you down to
The serendipity brigade believes that a lottery win can happen
serendipity? No. There’s good karma, but alas, there’s also bad
to anyone buying a ticket, but the destiny brigade believes that
karma. You must know what karma is. Surely?
your win was ordained, that you have been selected from millions
of hopefuls and that you, my dear heart and you alone, are extra
special. And the fence-sitting brigade? It’s still bewildered by the
big question of whether to buy a ticket or not.
Now, horror of horrors, serendipity has been purloined by
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Anyway, never ever look a gift—serendipity—in the mouth
and think that it was your destiny and you deserved it.
Carifta Plains
By Pierre J. Moeser, MD
“She’s not a whore. She’s someone who cares enough about
me to notice how I feel.” Tom stopped shifting in his seat.
Arroucca sucked in her breath sharply between her teeth. It
had been her suggestion to have tea at Mamma Jamissus. Now,
she longed to be back at their house, up in her room at the back,
polishing her emotional suit of armor.
Tom looked across the table at Arroucca and thought of their
eath came swiftly that afternoon on the
early fights and the intensity of their love that followed. With
dry Carifta Plains near Grand Anse Beach.
Jenny, there were no fights but each tryst left him with feelings
The donkey was surely mad, the workers said.
more of resignation than joy.
The animal brayed and pawed the earth with
its hooves as the men closed in.
Twelve years ago, they had sat at the same balcony table at
Mamma Jamissus’ Retreat House overlooking the Grand Etang
The donkey’s fur glistened. Its breath kicked up puffs of dust
from the baked clay. Two men unsheathed their machetes.
Arroucca said nothing. She lifted her chin and pursed her lips.
“I don’t want to …” Tom’s voice trailed off.
Forest Reserve. The blistering Grenadian sunshine reflected hot
Jacket stepped forward from beneath the shade of the
off the white tablecloths. Tom and Arroucca were thankful for
African tulip tree that grew next to the balcony. With a smooth
the shade as they sat alone on the balcony under the Red Stripe
and silent motion, he let a diamond ring tumble from his
umbrella that contained both the Caribbean sun and the heat of
callused hand onto the starched white linen tablecloth.
their marriage. Jacket, the headwaiter, had seen to it.
The donkey turned around in a circle attempting to fix its
good eye on whichever man approached.
“Give it up, you say. Just like that,” she asked.
“How?” The question seemed to come from both of them.
Jacket spoke. “One of the fortnightly workers dropped his
spanner from this balcony. He initially was quite vexed but then
saw that the tool had caught itself on bougainvillea near the
For 12 years, she forged ahead. Her reputation had grown as
edge of the cliff. As he retrieved his spanner using a hook line,
her time at home shrank. Arroucca’s work carried her to more
a sparkle caught his eye. Something glistened on a nail not fully
distant prisons and drew her into more desperate lives. The
hammered into a support post from the previous balcony. We
time she had to restore herself after each trip fell off and her
crawled under the balcony and pulled in the old post. When I
prison psychologist armor took more time to repair.
saw the ring, I remembered the incident.”
The donkey stopped briefly and then started circling in the
other direction.
Twelve years ago, Tom had proposed to Arroucca. Giddy
with joy, she had fumbled putting the engagement ring on
“Well, yes. I’m not going to see her anymore.“ Tom shifted as if
her trembling finger. The ring had bounced off the teak planks
the soft, tufted seat cushion were made of thornberry branches.
of the balcony and onto the vegetation covering the cliff face.
When the affair had begun, Tom would stop seeing his lover
Arrouca, Jacket, and Mr. David, the previous headwaiter, had to
the day before Arroucca returned. Last week, Tom and Jenny
lay in bed as Arroucca’s plane touched down at Pointe Salines
airport.
hold Tom back from trying to climb down the sheer rocks.
Now the ring sparkled on the tablecloth. Tom put his hand on
the table and leaned forward as Arroucca slid her hand forward.
Madness, pure madness. How could anyone explain why
Out on the Carifta Plains, the donkey’s legs buckled and
the donkey had knocked down 8-year-old Winston Price of
without fight or flourish, the animal fell over on its side and
Grenville? Now after a hind-hoof kick to the head, the boy
exhaled for the last time. The amazed workers stood still as the
would surely lose his right eye.
donkey’s good eye remained open in the blistering Caribbean
“It’s not the same thing,” said Arroucca. “I’m talking about my
sunshine.
career and you’re talking about a whore.”
Dr. Moeser graduated from the School of Medicine in 1983.
Mace 2012
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A Hot Cup of Coffee
By Thomas S. Artim, MD
sued by homeowners because his tractors raised dust clouds
and his livestock created smells, he had sued them back. When
he came into the office for his annual physical, he demanded
that he get his money’s worth, commandeering hours of the
time of the best physician I had ever met, despite the fact that
first stepped off the narrow path of my life on
Mr. Greaves had no medical problems whatsoever. He just
Thanksgiving Day in 1988. My goal for the day was
complained of everything, in excruciating detail.
modest: I wanted to complete rounds at the two
hospitals I was covering for my internal medicine group
in time to attend 2:00 pm holiday dinner at the home of my
Greaves. In fact, after what must have been one especially
in-laws. To this end, I awoke early, before the alarm, dressed,
challenging session, my associate, a man known for his
and gently kissed goodbye my still-sleeping wife, who was
equanimity, remarked, “Mr. Greaves refuses to die. He’s going
pregnant with our son. Not wishing to risk awakening our
to have to be killed.”
3-year-old daughter, I blew her a kiss as I passed outside her
bedroom door.
As I drove through the leaden gray dawn, I hoped that the
If Mr. Greaves could appropriate hours of a seasoned
physician’s time when perfectly healthy, I resigned myself to the
knowledge that I would never again leave the hospital.
day would be quiet. It started as such. I finished rounds at
When I walked into Mr. Greaves’ treatment room in the ER
noon. As I sat in the physicians’ lounge of the second hospital,
and introduced myself, he fixed his piercing pale blue eyes on
waiting for one last lab result to be called to me (I had to wait
me in such a way that I felt I had already done something wrong.
because this was prior to the proliferation of cell phones), I
Then his head fell heavily back onto his pillow. He was in full
saw an advertisement on the bulletin board for a position in an
cardiac arrest.
urgent care center. No rounds. No on-call. Regular hours. The
The ER nurse balked at resuscitation, pointing out that Mr.
salary was not very attractive and, anyway, it was not the kind of
Greaves was 96 years old. I had to charge the defibrillator and
medicine I had always wanted to practice.
administer the shock by myself. One jolt brought him back into
My pager went off. It was not the expected lab result. It
sinus rhythm. He had been without a heartbeat or breath for
was notification that I had a 96-year-old patient in the ER who
about one minute. He was now awake but mercifully groggy.
had an acute inferior wall myocardial infarction. His name was
Sixty seconds of death had taken the edge off. I ordered IV
Morgan Greaves. Although I had never met the man, I knew
Lidocaine and left to write orders and a note.
him by reputation. My elder associate, a thoughtful, patient,
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I had learned all of this in passing, listening to the mumbling
of my elder associate after one of his encounters with Mr.
I spent the remainder of the day shuttling between my two
and masterful clinician, had vented to me on many occasions
hospitals, managing problem after problem. Although I never
concerning the difficulties, frustrations and challenges of
made it back into the CCU to see Mr. Greaves, the nurses paged
dealing with Mr. Morgan Greaves. Mr. Greaves had been
me many times. As his sensorium cleared, he demanded various
awarded a Bronze Star for his service in the Argonne during
increases in his diet and activities. I acquiesced to them all.
World War I. As a player in the inchoate national professional
I never made it to Thanksgiving dinner. In fact, I returned
football league, he had blocked George Halas and tackled
to my home after my wife and daughter were asleep. I slept in
BronKo Nagurski. He had purchased IBM stock when it only
the guest room—or tried to. I had dozens of pages and I kept
made adding machines. He had built up—and still ran—a
thinking of Mr. Greaves. This man, who had experienced so
successful farm. He had refused exorbitant offers for it from
much, had now experienced the ultimate. I wanted to talk to
developers who surrounded it with suburbs. When he had been
him about it. In the morning, I once again rose before the alarm.
Mace 2012
I Will Wait For You
Donella Hosten
I just don’t get it,
Everyone I meet expects me to be in a relationship;
I blew two kisses outside the bedroom door of my wife, one for
her and one for our son, and then another outside the door of
our daughter.
When I strode into Mr. Greaves’ room in the CCU, he was
holding a Styrofoam cup of regular coffee, a dietary indiscretion
I had authorized the day before. He appeared thoroughly
disgusted. I approached his bed and re-introduced myself. He
glared at me and said, “Tell me, why is it you can’t get a hot
cup of coffee in this place?” I pulled up a chair, sat down and
recounted to Mr. Greaves the events of the previous day, his
MI, his arrest, his resuscitation. I asked if he had any memory of
the minute he was without vital signs, and if he did, what was it
like? He pushed away his tray, leaned forward and fixed me in
his gaze. Not willing to miss a word, I inched my chair closer. He
then spoke, “What the hell has all that got to do with not being
able to get a decent cup of coffee?”
I regained my composure and replied, “Nothing, Mr. Greaves,
absolutely nothing.” We then spent some time determining
that, yes, he did want to be resuscitated again, and that, yes, he
would get another doctor if I was not willing to work at keeping
him alive since, yes, that was what he was paying me for.
I eventually extricated myself from his presence. As I stood
at the nurses’ station, I pulled off the note that was paperclipped to the front of the chart that read “DNR” and threw it
in the trash. While I wrote, I resolved to next go down to the
physicians’ lounge and get the phone number for the 9-to-5
clinic job that in the next few days I would apply for, be offered,
and accept. But first I had to stop in the CCU pantry and get Mr.
Greaves a hot cup of coffee.
Dr. Artim graduated from the School of Medicine in 1981.
Put myself through the emotional turmoil and hardships,
Pay no mind to the boys and their tricks,
Forget all the lies, the cheating and the gimmicks;
And just ‘place’ myself into a relationship.
I will not be the victim of his robbery,
Will not allow him to take my heart away from me,
I will not give him the satisfaction,
The thrill, the excitement of breaking and entering
Into my heart;
I will not be scarred from the wounds of hurt.
I will not give him a minute of my precious time,
Will not allow him to feed me with his lines,
His lines that are crooked with disguise and lies;
I will not be fooled by his lust-filled eyes
Nor will I allow him to make me cry.
Now that you’ve heard the words I’ve spoken
Bonds will be formed, and ties will be broken.
These words will echo in the depths of your minds,
And touch the hearts of all mankind.
I will no longer let circumstances decide who I am,
I will stand up and fight the best way that I can.
I refuse to let society tell me what I can
And cannot do;
My decision has been made; I will wait for you.
Donella Hosten is a student in the School of Arts and Sciences
pursuing a degree in psychology.
Mace 2012
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Meet As Rivers Do
By Mark Keller
But for that one night more, at least my river was water
flowing towards some larger pool where all its energy would
gather. I rarely made it that far, to the endpoint, too caught
up in the flow to see the fall. Wrapped against the hastening
cold, I followed the familiar banks with an eye for change. They
ost of life is told in the
were always there, fast changes and slow ones. The transient
undiscovered letters between A and
structures rose and fell, ownership changed hands, architecture
B, where the fine details are found and
crumbled and was erected, banks shifted.
lost. Everyone will hear about getting
to medical school and from there
And people were never the same twice.
I could tell you exactly where I was when I first saw her. I could
becoming an intern, a resident, a doctor; most will never hear
describe it in terms of the streets leading to that point, what
the texture of the way. Most will never hear about Halley.
darkened restaurant I was in front of, relative to what structural
The cinematic stereotype of the chronically manic medical
peculiarities I could see; but these features carry meaning to me
student is true, but it’s not absolute. I lived at a lonely end of
and few others. I could have been anywhere along any river, and
a symphonic curve, listening to other people’s bells ringing
in time I would have found Halley.
in the distance. Already distant from all things familiar in my
She was on the other side of the river, a figure I expected
life, I quickly became a shadow stuck between worlds. I wasn’t
would be a fleeting fixture and nothing more. I noted that for
surprised when those secret letters became so pivotal to me.
a moment I was not entirely by myself on the waterfront and
Given shape, I tended towards the rivers in unfamiliar places.
I continued on my way. My direction was towards one of the
Where rivers flowed, life would gather, and my hope was to
bridges that banded that river. It was an easy goal, but one
take from that what I could. With my life unfamiliar, particularly
whose appreciation would fall with the season along with all
to me, maybe the rivers would birth something new for me to
other things. It was a pedestrian bridge, so it was cold, quiet,
recognize. I knew rivers the world over by then. Few of them
and empty when I got there. The panorama spread out before
me was a picture worth taking no matter the day
Meet as rivers do and dance downhill
and hour, but no camera would capture it in every
towards the larger sea.
and try to hold each moment in infinity. Nothing
Printed on a Grey Street bench in Newcastle upon Tyne
dimension that it demanded. I would stop and stare
deserved to be lost to time: not patients, not a single
instant of a riverfront, not one pivotal moment.
I nearly lost her for that. I nearly lost that moment
for the sake of the river. She was there, beside me
had borne fruit for me. My expectations were too high for the
at a distance, and she was paying attention to me which I wasn’t
low-yield process of creating lives; with a cold wind floating
paying back to her at first. As soon as I turned my head she was
across the surface of the water, the yield was going to drop
there, no longer just standing on the same bridge but standing
even further. I’d seen it before: when the water started to spot
in the same place.
with fallen leaves, only the coldest criminals and the warmest
lovers would populate the riverside with me. My escape would
change0 and the flowing river would cease to be literal and fall
into the realm of dangerous metaphor.
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“Are you here for the meteor shower too?” she asked, closer
to me without having moved an inch.
“There’s a meteor shower tonight?” I looked up at the sky
waiting for it to provide its own confirmation. There was nothing
so dramatic; none of the stars were falling yet.
“There’s supposed to be. Don’t know if we’ll see anything
with all this damn light.”
I looked at my watch. “Well, most of the bridge’s lights will
be turning off any minute.”
“Yeah? Then there’s some hope yet. So if you’re not here for
the meteors, what are you here for?”
Halley, stopped in her tracks parallel to me, her arms raised in
the air in a celebration that we shared across that space.
“To brood over the view.”
“Can’t say I like the sound of someone brooding on a bridge.”
I laughed at that, hoping it sounded genuine and not just
as an attempt at a deflection. “Nothing like that. I’m too vain
for that.”
That was my last memory of her. After that was the failure
with her number, and my following meteor showers, and
returning to that river as often as I could find my way there,
after I realized I wouldn’t even recognize her in the streets if we
bumped into one another by chance. You could trace it through
“The benefits of vanity.”
“Everything with cons has to have pros somewhere along
the way.”
my transcripts: a shallow but noticeable slump in my grades at
first, but then a rise above any level they’d ever reach before.
That was her too. It wasn’t time to find her again, I understood
“Including brooding?”
“Well, I wouldn’t get to see a meteor shower if I wasn’t
broody.” At that, the bridge darkened around us and hid just
how big my grin was.
that; but when I did, I wanted to be able to tell her that I hadn’t
been just a meteor but a river, flowing strong and running deep
through this world.
“Oh good, now maybe we’ll be able to see
something!”
An hour later we were standing elbow-to-elbow
and we hadn’t seen a single meteorite. I had in that
time found out the difference between a meteor and
a meteorite, the measurements of light pollution
and just how prevalent it was around the world, and
Halley’s name. Right there were all sorts of facts I
would never have found in a physiology text. There
were more, so many things I can’t remember about
the formation of the meteor shower we weren’t
seeing, about how much extraterrestrial material
fell to Earth in a year, about her. I could go on and on
Heavier in my thoughts was her end of it,
wondering if she’d feel the same disappointment
as me over something that might or might not have
been intentional. Was I a “what if?” for her like
she was for me, or just a passing aspect of
something more important?
about all the tiny details about her I cherished, but
their weight was all in our gravity that night. In other
worlds that gravity is different, and where Halley
was born, the first time she ever swam, her feelings on snakes as
pets, those things don’t matter. They were my snapshots of her,
the details I didn’t want lost in infinity, things that could never
mean as much to anyone else as they do to me still.
I took her number that night, but it never worked. If I put it
in my phone wrong, if she remembered the number wrong, if I
was wrong in my judgment of her interest in me, it didn’t matter
because no communication would answer my “why.” Heavier in
my thoughts was her end of it, wondering if she’d feel the same
disappointment as me over something that might or might not
have been intentional. Was I a “what if?” for her like she was
for me, or just a passing aspect of something more important?
We saw one meteorite by the end of the night. It was after
we’d left the bridge, before our potential energies had fizzled
I’ve wondered why she should matter so much, why her
gravity should have had such an effect on me through the
years. And then I decided the “why” doesn’t matter. Gravity
doesn’t explain itself. So I have allowed myself to succumb
to it, following the water down its gradient until it pools in a
summary of all the energies that came before its endpoint. The
canals of Venice. The mass of the Hudson. The outflows of Mt.
Kilimanjaro. The Rhine, the Seine, the Tyne, I’ve followed them
all. There was never another Halley. I knew it would be that way,
and I accepted it.
For better or worse, people are never the same twice.
Mark is a student in the School of Medicine pursuing an MD
degree.
out. We were on opposite sides of the river, walking in the same
downstream direction. I turned the right way at just the right
time and saw it streaming through the sky, silently screaming an
affirmation that gravity was real. I immediately turned and saw
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19
A Diamond in the Rough;
Grenada Cardiology Associates
Mark Lanzieri, MD
35th anniversary of the School of Medicine, we completed our
15th medical mission to Grenada. At the urging of a friend and
mentor, I will offer some recollections about our beginnings and
my hope for the maintenance and perpetuation of this program.
Visiting professors in cardiology are in general graduates of
he medical subspecialty of cardiology was
the School of Medicine and practicing cardiologists in the US.
originally intended to manage the long-term
In the early years of the program, we would generally spend
sequelae of noncoronary cardiac conditions
four half days at the General Hospital in St. George’s. The old
such as chronic valvular heart disease, untreated
hospital, since demolished, was perhaps 100 years old with
hypertensive disease and pericardial disease.
an outward appearance I can only describe as British colonial.
It was only much later that the serendipitous discovery
based on male/female and medical/surgical. Wards were dimly
and treatment of coronary artery disease. Driven by an
lit and open to the outdoors by way of large partially screened
overindulgent western diet and lifestyle, the treatment of
louvered windows that blocked most but not all rainfall during
coronary atherosclerotic heart disease now accounts for
heavy squalls. Each ward accommodated perhaps 50 patients
approximately two-thirds of cardiac care in the developed
with little privacy between metal framed beds with white paint
world. Untreated hypertension and rheumatic fever remain
that had long ago begun peeling. Floors, while inappropriate
serious public health problems in developing nations with
for a hospital ward, were wide wooden boards of old growth
limited health care resources. Available resources are often
rainforest beautifully aged and likely of considerable valve.
exhausted by maternal and childcare, trauma, endemic
Without a breeze through the open louvers, the heat and
infectious disease and medical emergencies.
humidity of the wards could be almost unbearable. Nurses,
While public health education has done much to decrease
the incidence of new cases of hypertension and rheumatic fever,
20
Like the new hospital it was divided broadly into open wards
of coronary angiography allowed for the understanding
students and local physicians seemed to conduct rounds and
patient care effortlessly.
the indolent nature of these illness ensures their continued
Being from Maine, it became clear absorbent that cotton
presence and to the extent that sustainable public health
here was a hazard and dress for the ward became tropical
intervention remains financially viable in the developing world,
weight, heat reflecting and fast drying L.L. Bean safari clothing.
compels us to deal with the reality that young adults will
Ward rounds would be presented at bedside generally by a
continue to be devastated by preventable cardiac diseases
House Officer followed by my review of the cardiac exam and
almost unheard of in modern western medicine. This circadian
review of ECG and CXR. I doubt I had ever actually heard, mitral
background returns to the origins of cardiology and the
stenosis prior to those first visits, but thankfully most of the
character of cardiovascular disease in Grenada approximating
rheumatics were well known to the staff and had established
that in the United States and Europe of over 50 years ago.
disease, making it easy for me to feign my vast experience with
Recognizing the lack of available adult cardiac care in Grenada
aucultating mitral stenosis and secretly reteach myself what it
and the limited ability of an indigent population to travel off
actually sounds like. Ten years and dozens of mitral cases later,
island for cardiac services, St. George’s University, along with
I can say with confidence I can easily recognize it but not nearly
a small group of visionary individuals and with the stewardship
as well as my cardiology forefathers. Despite improved efforts
of Peter Bourne, established the Adult Cardiology Clinic and
to treat streptococcal infections and public health awareness,
Visiting Professor in Cardiology program in 2001. My team
the January 2010 clinic included three patients with advanced
was among the first to staff the clinic in its first year, and in this
rheumatic mitral disease; a 53-year-old man with pure mitral
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stenosis and congestive heart failure who would benefit from a
balloon valvuplasty, a 42-year-old man with mixed valve disease
who needs both mitral and aortic valve replacement, and a
23-year-old woman with severe rheumatic mitral regurgitation
and recurrent sickle cell crisis and pulmary edema and a
hemoglobin of 5; she would not survive a surgery. The best
advice I could offer was to avoid pregnancy. What of the ability
The operating room was separated from the outside by a
of a modern trained cardiologist to use chest X-rays to diagnose
single-glass-paned window taped around the edges. We could
heart disease? Most of my experience in training had been for a
hear conversations come in from the parking area and see
line placement. We were fortunate to have an Echocardiogram
passing traffic but felt very alone. Frank’s heart rate was 28 when
machine. It consisted of a large mechanical vibrating transducer,
I gave Lidocaine. The procedure was 20 minutes skin-to-skin
circa 1975, for image acquisition attached via duct tape to a
with excellent radiographic position and pacing parameters.
22-inch color television screen for image display. It allowed for
We did a second pacemaker that afternoon. The same OR was
2D images only to assess anatomical structure such as ejection
now filled with what seemed like the entire nursing staff, an in-
fraction and valvular excursion and calcification. No color or
room newspaper reporter and post-operative TV interview of
Doppler function was available and because of its size and PC
us and the patient. When I later asked why the second case and
based nature resided in a small room in the hospital clinic. In the
not the first, I was told very matter-of-factly that the hospital
old hospital, at that time, patients were brought from the ward
administration was concerned we would kill the first one.
to the clinic room for Echo down one or two flights of stairs and
We implanted four pacemakers that week, all that had
across an access ramp. The old hospital had no elevator. We
been donated and brought Grenada in to the 21st century of
spent the ward days diagnosing what we could with the tools
cardiology care. Of far greater importance, we had proven to
we had and providing confirmation of overall cardiac function.
both ourselves and local hospital sponsors what could be done
Without a doubt, I learned more than I could teach about
safely at the General Hospital. I like to think these first implants
disease I had never actually seen in an environment that
were important in establishing the program as a legitimate,
reminded me both of Ernest Hemingway and William Osler.
competent, and sustainable presence at the hospital. I know
Sometime prior to my first trip as visiting cardiologist I was
they gave me an enormous respect for my full-time physician
made aware there was a functioning C-arm that provided
colleagues in Grenada that continues to this day.
X-ray support for open reduction and fixation of
fractures. In addition there was a delightful man
named Frank who had been hospitalized a few
months with an enlarged prostate, urinary retention,
an indwelling Foley catheter and a heart rate of 32.
A combination of features that had destined him
to remain in hospital awaiting something though
exactly what remained unclear. I was asked if I knew
how to implant pacemakers. So on the third day of
our first trip in the first year of the visiting cardiology
program, we were off to the operating theatre
(sic) at the General Hospital with some donated
We removed horsehair brushes from their alcohol
bath with forceps, scrubbed with iodine solution and
wore full-thickness lead aprons under heavy cloth
operating room (OR) gowns. While air-conditioned,
I was sweating before I anesthetized the skin.
pacemakers.
Fifty years after the first pacemaker implant had been
Ensuing trips allowed us not only to continue to perform
performed, I was going to do the first one ever in Grenada. My
in hospital consultation, but to begin to see outpatients in a
surgical scrub assistant and certified X-ray technician Annie from
clinic setting. The room assigned to the cardiology clinic was
my home lab, a wonderful Nigerian anesthesiologist, Dr. Odoui
shared with a multitude of other clinics and, though small,
and I would make history. The C-arm while functional provided
could accommodate an examination table, ECG machine
a field of view of only 4 inches; adequate to place orthopedic
and Echocardiography. Sometime after the second year, we
screws but significantly smaller than the 9-inch field usually
acquired a new laptop Echo machine capable of hemodynamic
used for pacemaker implantation. It would be like driving a car
assessment of stenotic and regurgitant valvular lesions. Like
while looking through a drinking straw. We removed horsehair
any fledgling practice we strove to perform “outreach” to areas
brushes from their alcohol bath with forceps, scrubbed with
too far removed from the General Hospital to expect patients
iodine solution and wore full-thickness lead aprons under heavy
to travel. At Princess Alice Hospital in northern Grenada, we
cloth operating room (OR) gowns. While air-conditioned, I was
identified a man in complete heart block who with his family
sweating before I anesthetized the skin.
undertook the two-hour derive the next day for his pacemaker
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21
defibrillator battery and two pacemaker batteries that were
implanted during our first trip in 2000. The battery voltage
for both pacemakers was zero and patients had reverted back
to their preimplantation bradycardias. Frank died about five
years after we implanted him from metastatic prostate cancer.
surgery. At a clinic in St. Vincent, a neighboring island, held in
an equipment storage room adjacent to the medical ward, we
were presented an elderly blind man with recurrent syncope.
Someone had heard we would be at the hospital that day and
he arrived unscheduled with an armful of birds-of-paradise
flowers hoping to be seen. After obtaining a visa, he arrived in
St. George’s later in the week and was implanted.
In Carriacou, the program provided that island’s first
defibrillator and education about its use. Travel to Carriacou
was via the “Osprey,” an inter-island ferry providing two hours
We also lost three patients to consequences of Hurricane Ivan,
which affected Grenada in 2004. Grenadians being legendary
in their hospitality, we have become friends with the families
of those we have either implanted or brought to our Maine
hospital for cardiac surgery.
There are too many to thank individually that make this
ongoing project possible but a few warrant special mention.
Johansen Sylvester is our physician sponsor and coordinates
hospital and clinic actives. He somehow succeeds in managing
his private practice and keeps us on schedule during our
week’s visit. He has become a respected colleague and friend.
Ralph Cardamone, a visiting cardiologist from
The same OR was now filled with what seemed
the beginning made it his personal project to see
like the entire nursing staff, an in-room newspaper
to completion. But I should let him tell his own
reporter and post-operative TV interview of us and
the patient. When I later asked why the second case
the Grand Anse project through from conception
story. The Medtronic corporation has donated all
pacemakers and leads since my first trip. At last
count this amounts to thirty implants at a donation
value of approximately US$200,000. To Dr. Dolland
Noel, who runs a first-rate medical service at the
and not the first, I was told very matter-of-factly
General Hospital, for trusting us to take care of his
that the hospital administration was concerned we
to try and improve their care. I am supremely proud
would kill the first one.
individuals who believed in the concept. As of this
patients and deliver on lofty, starry-eyed promises
to have been associated with this program and the
writing, there is renewed hope for an expanding
cardiology presence at the General Hospital to
of open-water adventure on its journey north along the west
coast of Grenada and then across open Atlantic. All these outer
clinics of course involved transport of the Echo machine, ECG
machine, support supplies and the pacemaker programmer
for the sometimes unannounced pacemaker patient. With
continued success and growth, it has become more difficult for
us to provide clinics outside of St. George, yet each of these
locations provided memorable experiences for myself and
other cardiologists.
As of late 2010, the new base camp of the adult cardiology
program is the Grand Anse Adult Cardiology facility providing
2,000 square feet of air-conditioned bliss, a knowledgeable staff,
Internet access and room to grow. During the January 2010 trip,
my team and I implanted one new pacemaker, changed one
22
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include both teaching and patient care. I believe it’s
possible to create and maintain a free-standing tertiary cardiac
center in Grenada to serve the entire Eastern Caribbean area.
Time will tell. But at least for now the program highlights SGU at
its best and its graduates fulfilling a promise.
Dr. Lanzieri graduated from the School of Medicine in 1985.
Being at the
Right Place at
the Right Time
By Drew Moffett Bowyer, MD, PhD
I remember when—
We found a Meckel’s beside the Appendix of a Patient,
After hours I did a thoracentesis for heart failure with
supervision,
Hearing a Carotid bruit could have prevented a future stroke,
Finding Crackles in a heart failure patient just by being
thorough at the end of day
Today I laughed
By Racher Croney
Be observant, look for ways to hold a hand.
Pray for their recovery, you’ll be glad you did.
Thank you for being good teachers, that’s how I aim to be.
Always, Be useful.
Dr. Bowyer graduated from the School of Medicine in 1997 and
is a member of SGU’s Iota Epsilon Alpha International Honor
Medical Society.
Today I laughed, yesterday I cried, tomorrow I can’t deny.
My destiny’s unknown, but my heart’s desire remains a dream
each night.
Oh to bask in sheer pleasure and glee with laughter and joy a
daily insight.
If only to replace my tear-filled days with joy and hope, oh what
divine delight.
To laugh I long, to be happy I crave
To rejoice I taste, for victory I know is but a day away
Tomorrow I will remember the dusky roads I’ve trod, the hill’s
I’ve climbed
The walls I’ve jumped and the ocean I’ve swam, to bring me
to today
The day I laughed.
Racher is a staff writer for the Office of University
Communications and Publications.
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23
Serendipity UpEnded
Margaret A. Lambert
Bob Jordan and I presented Monday in Gaborone. We arrived
Tuesday morning at the Sir Seretse Khama Airport’s Botswana
Air check in for a presentation in Johannesburg that evening.
like to think that my life is full of serendipitous
moments, that Fate has singled me out and showered
me with little sparkly surprises as I trip my way through
this life fantastic. And, of course, it has—beginning with
my birth, a most serendipitous moment, at least for me.
And I cannot forget the day in 1980 that I asked Andy Belford
for a temporary job at this extremely unlikely venture, St.
George’s University in Grenada, because I needed something
to do while I was pregnant and figuring out what I wanted to do
with my life. An unexpected life changer, that moment; kind of
uber-serendipity.
There are always delightful moments when you bump into old
friends that you forgot you once had; stumble across mementos
of half-remembered moments; and your eye sidecatches the
graphics on a wonderful book that you never knew existed…
The list is almost endless.
But there are those moments that are governed by small and
mean gods. (Variously called elves, fairies, pixies, leprechauns,
daevas, whatever.) They are pesky little spirits that mess with
you. These churlish creatures do their best to plonk you on the
head with dollops of unexpected peevishness. Sometimes at
moments of high stress; others when you are walking along
with a song in your heart and a spring in your step and, BLAM!
Gotcha. You are cursing inside of a New York millisecond.
Here are some of their efforts to reverse the joyous effects
of my serendipity.
BOTSWANA SURPRISE
A sleepy, lovely country filled with earnest and good people
Agent: (to me) I cannot check you in because South Africa
requires a full blank page in your passport for your entry stamp.
Me: Whot? (My basic response to all lunacy.)
Agent: You cannot get on this flight with that passport
Me: You are kidding.
Agent: No I am not kidding. I cannot let you on the flight. Air
Botswana would be fined 5,000 Pula if I do.
Me: Can I pay you the 5,000 Pula? (Stunned desperation made
spending $800+ USD seem a good idea)
Agent: No you cannot pay the fine. You cannot get on the flight.
Me: What am I supposed to do? Stay in Botswana?
Agent: You must get pages in your passport.
Me: But our flight leaves in an hour. Where is the US Embassy? I
can never get there and back in time.
Agent: [Shrugs the dismissive shrug of airline agents worldwide.]
Still stunned by this ridiculous predicament, we booked
stand by for the next flights, and ensured that he had the
projector and the thumb drive to give the presentation in the
likely event I didn’t make the next plane. I flagged down the
hotel van, negotiated with the driver to take me to the US
Embassy in Gabarone and back to the airport. It seemed like
things might work out. After all, Gabarone is a sleepy town and
not a hotbed of American interests. I had to assume that the
embassy was fairly quiet.
After a 20-minute drive, I entered the embassy through the
security machines, shedding purse and phone and all extraneous
items at security. Ecstatic that there is only one person in front of
me, I ran up to the window with my passport. As I stated what I
want and pushed my passport through the window…
all wanting to do their bit in life to bring it forward. In this
country of 1.5 million souls, diamond and gold mines, and a
fairly forward-thinking government which at least tries to plan
24
“DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP DONG,
SCREECH SCREECH…”
for its citizens, there are no taxis at the somnolent airport; none
Me: Whot?
are needed. Hotel vans cover the tourist and business trade.
A huge and buff marine escorted me firmly out as the woman
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behind the counter gives me back my passport.
Loudspeaker: Please leave the building. This is a Fire Drill. I
repeat, Please leave the building. This is a Fire Drill.
Me: (primal) NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Please, sir, can you have
the fire drill in 10 minutes?
Buff Marine: [silent]
NEWCASTLE: RETURN OF THE FIREFIGHTER PIXIES
Overnight flights are the bane of the over 30 traveler.
Seems an efficient use of time, but really it is just exhausting
and debilitating. I arrived in Newcastle 2 hours before my
presentation, ecstatic* that I had an hour and a half to sleep off
the planes and airports. Grinning with expectation, I donned
I went back through security, retrieved my stuff, ran out to
the van to see if the hotel driver could stay there for a bit. He
finally decided he could wait no longer than 30 minutes. Hoping
to get a sense of the length of US Embassy Fire Drills, I then
chatted up the female security guards outside the embassy with
the same result I had the day I chatted up some mushrooms in
my backyard.
In the end, after more stupid tricks by the small mean gods
which kept my blood pressure agitating like a washing machine,
I did actually get the pages in my book 45 minutes later—and
get to the airport in time. A Fire Drill?
LONDON SNARL
A meeting screw up. We waited in our hotel for a breakfast
my tee-shirt, closed all drapes, doused all lights, and put my
head on the pillow with an actual groan of satisfaction. Just
enough time went by for me to start drifting into blessed sleep:
“BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP….”
Me: I don’t care if it’s an actual fire, I am sleeping right here.
Pause for 30 seconds:
Pause.
And so on…..the phone rings.
Me: Hello (surly)
Hotel: We are testing our fire alarm system this morning and are
sorry for the disturbance.
Me: Not nearly as sorry as I am.
meeting and only to discover 15 minutes after the meeting was
to have started that it was in a different hotel, across London.
…and so on, right up until the time I had to go. My presentation
No way to call our colleagues (hopefully to become colleagues).
We jumped into a taxi in full knowledge that if our colleagues
actually waited for us, we would be 45 minutes late. We were
that day was not one of my professional best.
*little frissons of ecstasy are obviously the call to put up one’s guard against
the unexpected mean ones.
beginning this collegial relationship behind a mammoth eight
ball. Stomachs churning, we were somewhat soothed by the
I could go on and on, but this chronicler of life’s annoying
forward motion of the taxi. London cabbies are so sure of
moments is running out of space. I must save the story of
where they are going; it’s comforting. Just as the old psyche is
awakening in the middle of one night as a child to find a cat
allowing itself to calm down, I became aware that the taxi had
birthing a litter of kittens in my hair for another issue of the
pulled over and stopped at the curb.
Mace. I know you are disappointed.
Upon reflection, I have to conclude that these small mean
CABBIE: You’ll have to get out; the brakes are acting up.
gods have a place in our lives. They keep us tethered to earth.
Me: Whot?
Without them we might float away on unfettered joy. We might
become grinning fools and waft away somewhere.
Cal and I stood at the curb of a deserted London corner
Viva la pixies.
knowing that we would never find another cab and that our
chances of a collegial relationship was receding fast. Screw you
Margaret Lambert is Dean of Enrolment Planning, University
little pixies!!!!!
Registrar, and Director of University Communications and
Publications.
INDIA SNAFU
I had one day in a two week business trip to sightsee. One
day. We were going to the Taj Mahal, one of the “universally
admired masterpieces of the world’s heritage.” This was the only
day in my life that I would ever see it. It was closed unexpectedly
for repairs. Of course.
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25
A World Without Technology
By Racher Croney
So was this not technology? Indeed, it was technology
in process. As the years passed and both knowledge and
understanding increased, so did the experiments and
developments. It brought us to a century in which technology
dominates, a century in which our existence depends on it,
he world as we know it is without a doubt
businesses soar with it, health blossoms and life becomes one
predominantly defined by the 21st century
of a paradise, so much so that it is almost impossible to imagine
bug, which has revolutionized technology and
a life without technology.
opened the door of enlightenment towards the
True enough, life goes on, for time doesn’t stand still and
establishment of a new world order. A world in which 29
neither does the earth cease its rotation around the sun, but
percent of land and 71 percent of water becomes a global
survival will become almost impossible and severely hindered.
network linked through a compilation of communication
A lot has changed since the ‘BC’ era to the technological
mediums, and is characterized by accessibility and ‘one-touch
21st century. New developments, discoveries, changes, more
convenience’ mechanisms made possible through technology.
questions and even fewer answers, but as the complications
The invention of a computer was one thing, but it undeniably
and questions increase, technology has provided that engine
paved the way and made it possible for a number of other
which drives stability, knowledge, power, globalization, and a
technological developments, discoveries, and advancements
sense of security, giving a guarantee of hope and possibilities.
of which we are all active users and beneficiaries.
For amenities and resources we rely so heavily upon today,
Who would have thought that time could have been told from
a device on the wrist as opposed to monitoring the position of
such as the computer, cellular phones, electricity, now solar
the sun, or that cooking on fire wood could be replaced by an
energy and even the ATM machines, one wonders whether
electrical oven with a timer feature, or that outside fires as a
these are really necessities or mere innovative gadgets for our
means of light would be replaced by electricity at the touch of a
comfort. We must admit that the history and lifestyles of our
button, or the clap of a hand? We can go on forever highlighting
forefathers are testament to its lack of existence since ‘time
the innumerable and noteworthy developments that have been
memorial,’ but yet it was the inhabitants of that era who lived
wrought through technology, so much so that it is becoming
three scores and ten, crossing the century border in age. With
increasingly difficult to keep pace. We can think of what was and
these indisputable facts in mind, it begs the question, “is
what is, what is and what can be, for this is definitely the driving
technology really important today, and if so, why?”
force behind innovation. But what I find it difficult to imagine
As defined by the National Academy of Engineering,
is—a world without technology.
”Technology is the process by which humans modify nature to
meet their wants.” Our computers and portable players are only
the tangible artifacts or by products from a series of activities.
Technology is the way in which man uses the infrastructure
and natural resources of Mother Nature to create, invent,
produce, and develop. In our eyes, technology may not have
been apparent centuries ago; but man was forever building,
inventing, developing, and producing, using the land and its
treasures there in.
26
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Annus Mirabilis—The Year of Wonders
By Patrick J. Rooney, MD, MB, ChB
downtown Budapest. When the first such payment duly arrived
exactly on time and in exactly the right place and when we
discovered the black market exchange for western currencies
in the Iron Curtain countries, we realized that we were going
to be very well-off indeed during our six months abroad. One
Hungarian Odyssey
The recent celebrations in Germany to
mark the 20th anniversary of the fall of the
Berlin Wall brought back great memories for
my family and me. In 1989, I had been on the faculty of McMaster
University (Hamilton, Ontario) long enough to be eligible for a
six-month sabbatical leave on full salary. Where to go and what
to do? I had many friends and colleagues in Australia and my
irony of this is that while my salary transfer did arrive in Hungary
each month as arranged, this first occasion was the only time it
arrived in the correct branch of the National Bank of Hungary.
Each month from then on, I learned the geography of Budapest,
as I was required to find my way to Ujpest, to Budavar, and to
other suburbs of the city, to collect my check.
An Exciting Beginning
wife had family in South Africa, a country I had visited a few years
These problems were definitely of minor importance when we
earlier. However, there was also the opportunity to live and work
arrived in Budapest and took up residence in a nice apartment
in Hungary, at that time still locked behind the Iron Curtain. Many
in an older section of Buda, which is the part of Budapest on the
of the rheumatologists from Budapest had come to study in
northern bank of the Danube. Our sons were fascinated by the
Glasgow while I was working there at the Center for Rheumatic
many bullet holes in the outer walls of the building, which dated
Diseases or later at McMaster and they urged me to come to
from the 1956 Hungarian uprising against the Soviet Union. It
Országos Reumatólogia és Fizioterápiás Intézet (ORFI)—the
was, therefore, a surprise and a delight when my hosts in ORFI
National Institute of Rheumatology and Physiotherapy.
invited all of us to attend the reburial service of Nagy Imre, the
Finding the appropriate six months to take our family to
Hungarian Prime Minister at the time of this uprising. This was
Budapest gave my wife and me food for thought. We had four
scheduled for the weekend after our arrival and constituted the
children from ages nine to 16, and we did not want to disrupt their
first step in the newest revolt against Soviet rule. The excitement
school education more than necessary. We decided that the
was really palpable as almost one million Hungarians gathered
threat to their education that leaving one school year one month
all of them (and us) carrying Hungarian flags with a black-rimmed
early and starting the next two months late, would be more than
hole in the center where the Soviet star had been burned out,
offset by the travel and cultural experience of living in Eastern
leaving the historical flag of Free Hungary.
Europe for a period of five months. This meant the whole family
This weekend heralded a series of events testing the
would be in Budapest from May till September and that I would
Hungarians’ possible new freedoms, and when these were
stay on alone for the final sixth month.
The worries that we had prior to this trip seem almost farcical
paralleled in East Germany, they culminated in the fall of the
Berlin Wall. During these months, Budapest became a traffic
now. Would we be able to afford to live and work in Budapest
nightmare as the Hungarian authorities declared that they (and,
while still maintaining our expensively mortgaged home and our
therefore, the Hungarian Police and Military) would make no
other commitments in Canada? After considering the official
effort to prevent anyone from Eastern Europe escaping over
exchange rate between the Canadian dollar and the Hungarian
the Hungarian border with Austria. As a result of this, many
forint, we decided that we could arrange to have half my salary
thousands of East Germans traveled to Budapest in their
transferred each month to the National Bank of Hungary in
Trabants and Ladas, parked them on the city streets and fled to
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27
Austria by train or on foot. One of my colleagues with whom I had
planned to write a paper, Dr. Henry Keitel at a University in East
Berlin, came to visit me in Budapest during this time. Normally a
very upbeat person, at this visit he was very depressed. His son,
an engineer, his daughter-in-law, a schoolteacher, and his two
grandchildren had escaped to West Berlin a few weeks earlier
via this route through Hungary. At that time, Dr. Keitel believed
he would never see his family again. I got a joyful phone call at
Christmas that year after my return to Canada. The family was
back together in the reunified city of Berlin.
Life behind the Iron Curtain
In addition to all this political excitement surrounding
us, my family took great pleasure in living in Hungary, and we
coped well with life, despite the great language barrier we
encountered. At that time, very few people in Budapest spoke
Turkish bath fed by one of the many volcanic hot springs in the
Budapest area. My timetable meant that we were able to do
a lot of traveling to Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia (as they
were then) and to all parts of Hungary. We ate very well and
sampled many of the excellent restaurants in Budapest and
the surrounding areas and when we were in the city we usually
finished our evening by visiting the very modern Hyatt Hotel
on the Pest bank of the Danube to indulge ourselves with our
favorite, very decadent Hungarian dessert, Szomlo Galushka, a
many-layered cream and sponge cake.
any English. All had been taught Russian in school but declined
ever to speak that language in public. The second language for
most people was German and no one in our family had ever
had any experience with this. We were somewhat competent
in the Romance languages—French, Italian, and Spanish—but
Political Change
It was the political changes in Eastern Europe that made
our stay so memorable. It is difficult to imagine now what
life was like for many people at that time and what dramatic
changes occurred for them that year. After the rest of the family
returned home to Canada and I was left alone for
When we spoke in public to anyone they would
immediately check the time. At exactly 10 minutes
later they would walk away because if they lingered
the final month of my stay, the rheumatologists from
Budapest decided to travel to Romania to arrange
a joint professional meeting with their Hungarianspeaking colleagues in Transylvania. Transylvania
is considered by almost all Hungarians to be the
heartland of Hungarian culture. It was separated
from Hungary at the time of the Napoleonic wars
longer they would be reported to the dreaded secret
and is still in a separate country. The Hungarian
police for consorting with foreigners!!
an alien culture within their land. I was offered
language and culture keep this part of Romania
the chance to accompany the Budapest group on
their visit, but to do so I had to get a Romanian visa
found these of little or no help. Hungarian is a unique language
and there are no similar languages anywhere in Europe with the
possible exception of Finnish, but any real similarity is minimal.
There is an apocryphal story that there is one sentence that
means the same in both languages—The train is standing in the
station.” However, the word for “train” in Hungarian is the word
for “station” in Finnish and vice versa.
This language problem made shopping very difficult. We
became expert at pointing and at counting out amounts on
our fingers. When my wife wanted sour cream for a recipe
she was attempting, it took me five trips to the local grocery
store, as each time I guessed at the contents of a carton or tin,
I finished up with something different and not sour cream. We
had cartons of suet and lard in the apartment for a good few
weeks after that.
My duties at ORFI were light. ORFI is a very old spa hospital
close to the center of Buda and it was built around a traditional
28
Mace 2012
from the Romanian embassy in Budapest. Every day, at that
time, the lineup for such visas was very long. I set out early one
morning and I expected a wait of around four hours before
my application would be considered. Shortly after I joined
this queue, a very attractive young lady approached me, the
obvious westerner conspicuous by my clothing. She asked me
where in Romania I was going. I replied Koloszvar, which is the
Hungarian name for Cluj-Napoca. She immediately hurried
away telling me she would return. She did so before my time in
the lineup was over and she handed me a $100 US note. (With
the black market exchange, this was a huge sum for any ordinary
citizen of Budapest.) She asked me if I would take it to her sister
in Koloszvar and told me I would find her working in a large
department store in the town. I promised her I would do so but
she then told me not to give the cash directly as no ordinary
citizen was allowed to have foreign currency and if found with
such he/she would be handed over to the secret police. She
asked me to go to the dollar shop in Koloszvar and to buy as
much good coffee as her note would allow. I could then give
her sister the coffee in a clandestine way and she would use
it to barter for what she needed for many months afterwards.
When I contacted her sister, we arranged that I would meet
Joy Unknown
Liandra Lewis
her boyfriend in a quiet side street and walk past him without
stopping but deposit the rather large sack of coffee in the trunk
of his car as I passed. Romania, at that time, was one of the most
A cup empty,
repressive regimes I had ever encountered. When we spoke in
A well dried,
public to anyone (and as Romanian is very similar to Italian, I was
I thirst for the rain; one drop of it I plead,
able to contribute to the conversation) they would immediately
I beg who will give.
check the time. At exactly 10 minutes later they would walk away
because if they lingered longer they would be reported to the
dreaded secret police for consorting with foreigners!!
Crying, Crying
I guess no one
Am thirsty, am dried
Patrick Rooney—secret agent
When I returned to Canada, my friends were suspicious that
I belonged to some secret agency. I had been in South Africa
in 1985 and, within a few years, the Apartheid regime came to
an end. After I returned from Budapest, the Berlin Wall was
demolished. I was in Romania in late 1989 and in 1990 Ceaucescu
was deposed. They became even more convinced when I
returned to Eastern Europe in 1990 for scientific meetings in
Moscow and Tbilisi. Within two years, the Soviet Union broke up
and Georgia became an independent nation again. I think they
searched my very ancient Chevrolet Impala for hidden gunports
and rocket launchers.
About five years ago I visited Cuba. Dr. Jorge Dominguez
told me he expected his native island to change very rapidly
after my visit and he expressed great disappointment when this
did not happen. However, since then, Fidel Castro has given
up his post and there have been quite dramatic economic and
political changes on the island. I would remind Dr. Dominguez
that not all revolutions proceed at the same pace!
Memo to self—visit Pyongyang and Beijing sometime soon!!
Serendipity
My life over the past 23 years has been filled with chance
visits to many countries prior to them undergoing cataclysmic
political changes—all of this quite serendipitous from my point
of view. My children look back on their time in Budapest in 1989
I’m waiting, am longing,
It’s the wounds that’ve been opened
And this time it’s been infected
Oh, it’s being devoured
By the pests outside
I love to laugh,
I love to smile,
Hoping to leave;
Some of it behind.
The pen and the paper
Is my life;
Words are worthwhile
The pen was my question,
My paper the answer,
That’s where I find pleasure
It’s ridiculous I know
The things that I love
People just sit and wonder why,
But it’s a mystery
That I myself can’t solve.
Liandra is a student in the School of Arts and Sciences.
as our Year of Wonders and they are delighted to have had this
amazing opportunity in their lives.
Dr. Rooney is a professor of clinical skills.
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29
Improving Your Medical Poker Skills
By Philip Dwek
Amateur: Couldn’t really tell.
Pro: Any reads on the playing style of the other players?
Amateur: Nope.
From this conversation it becomes clear that the professional
lmost two years ago I entered a
requires A LOT more information to make a decision about what
poker tournament. It was quite a big
to do in the situation. If you were to watch Harrington play in
tournament; the World Series of Poker.
a situation such as this, he would probably take milliseconds
While on the plane ride to Las Vegas, I
to respond; however, this entire process would go through his
remember reading Dan Harrington’s book on “No Limit Texas
head. Situations aren’t always this simple; they are often much
Hold ’Em.” For those of you who don’t know, Harrington is a
more complex, involving calculations based on how much is in
professional poker player and “wrote the book” on no-limit
the pot relative to the probability of making a good hand. Poker
really is a life of study!
In medicine, a patient will not tell you they have
appendicitis; likewise your opponents in poker
will rarely elicit their playing strategy, this is
when experience and intuition may play a role to
retrieve history more efficiently.
So where’s the medical part of this story? Medical
students/residents early in their career will often
present simplistic questions to an attending, i.e.
what should I do with a patient that has chest pain?
For the beginner, even how to approach this can be
overwhelming. Asking more questions complicates
things; can’t we just get an EKG and call it a day!?
These questions that the astute physician asks
allows him/her to make well-calculated decisions.
Let’s review a situation of a medical student
(amateur) with an attending (professional).
Texas Hold ’Em. I remember in the first chapter, he reviews
a conversation of the amateur with a professional. The
conversation goes something like this:
Amateur: What do I do with a patient with chest pain?
Pro: How old is the patient? Sex?
Amateur: A 62-year-old female.
30
Amateur: Hey professional, what do I do with Ace-King?
Pro: Where is the pain located?
Pro: What position were you in?
Amateur: Sub-sternal.
Amateur: I think first
Pro: When did it start? Does it radiate? Producible with
Pro: How many other players?
palpation? Did it start suddenly or more gradual, alleviating/
Amateur: I dunno.
exacerbating factors? Associated symptoms?
Pro: How much were the blinds?
Amateur: I didn’t ask those questions.
Amateur: Don’t remember.
Pro: Does the patient have any history of an myocardial
Pro: How much were you sitting with in comparison to other
infarction, coronary artery disease, diabetes, hypertension?
players?
Amateur: I’m not sure.
Amateur: Is that important?
Pro: Does the patient smoke/drink alcohol? Is the patient obese?
Pro: What was the table like? Passive, aggressive?
Amateur: I think she smokes.
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Pro: You need to get more information, and I have one million
can instantly change from day to day after a new study confirms
other tasks I’d also like to perform.
such and such.
As you can see, the amateur medical person does not have
You’ll find throughout your career if you stay systematic,
the experience/knowledge to consider all these factors that
your clinical acuity will improve, your questions to patients
the professional takes into account when making his/her next
will become much more focused, and you’ll be able to gather
decision—just as Ace-King is a great hand, and clearly your
histories in a shorter amount of time, yet gain more information.
decision would be obviously, raise! In anyone with chest pain,
Decisions you have to make will become more obvious, and
you’d have a pretty low threshold for getting an
EKG, especially if it was in a hospital setting, but all
these questions will go through the professional’s
mind, and every question they ask to the patient will
lead them into a particular direction.
Just as in poker, decisions can get quite
complicated. Benefits/risks are calculated. Do
we do the CT to look at the lung, with the risk of
damaging the kidneys? Do you risk making your
flush to win lots of money or fold and cut your losses.
Good histories are essential in both situations, the
history of the “player.” In medicine, a patient will
You’ll find throughout your career if you stay
systematic, your clinical acuity will improve, your
questions to patients will become much more
focused, and you’ll be able to gather histories in a
shorter amount of time, yet gain more information.
not tell you they have appendicitis; likewise your
opponents in poker will rarely elicit their playing strategy, this is
even in situations when decisions will not be so simple, you’ll
when experience and intuition may play a role to retrieve history
still have a valid opinion about what to do. So what should you
more efficiently.
be doing? Just as poker professional wannabes learn from the
Another very important similarity is that both professionals,
greats, you should be, too. Reading textbooks, review articles,
at the end of the day, base decisions on evidence (as in
and discussing with attendings. Reviewing cases play by play
medicine) and statistics (in poker), which I see as the same
is invaluable, especially because the same situation will occur
thing. At the end of the day, neither professional takes things
again, and how you approach and work up that same situation
personally when they know they made the right decision; like in
will become shorter and shorter, you’ll never skip steps but
poker, sometimes things don’t go accordingly, but you review
rather be able to move through the thinking process much
your “moves” and ascertain you did the right thing. Decisions
more quickly. You’ll find when you ask questions, you will begin
should not be based on feelings and emotions, the poker
to include more specific details that will allow the professional
player does not raise with a 2 and a 7 because he/she feels
to give specific recommendations (this is usually best seen by
lucky because he always wins with it. Likewise the physician
observing a fellow asking an attending’s opinion). But you need
does not order lupus workup on a patient with chest pain just
to make sure you are getting feedback. People can play poker all
because his last five patients with chest pain ended up having
their lives without improvement, and still occasional win some.
lupus. Mistakes in both fields will occur, but how we improve
Also, sometimes the CT for vague abdo pain will show aortic
is by going over our moves, play by play, and discussing what
dissection, yet it does not mean you made the right decision
should have been done, what was one’s mindset at the time to
especially when you’re playing with someone else’s money.
see if their line of thinking can be refined?
However, decisions in either fields aren’t so simple, online
poker forums will have hundreds of people commenting on
Philip is a student in the School of Medicine pursing an MD
degree and specializing in internal medicine.
particular hand situations, how they would play it and why. This
too happens in medicine and at times there is no one correct
answer.
One big difference here is that clearly in medicine, we don’t
know all the stats as we do in poker. What we ought to do is
what current evidence-based medicine suggests. However, this
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31
My Father’s Eyes
By Frederic Bertino
Needless to say, my father’s death sent out shockwaves.
People were in disbelief when they had heard the news, and
as shockwaves do (as in earthquakes), they send rebound and
waves back from the distant ocean to the shore as tsunamis,
large enough to shake the very core of a person.
This is a story of a shockwave.
few weeks ago I received my white
“Frederic Bertino from New York” was called as I walked on
coat, the symbol of initiation into the
medical profession. It was a memorable
stage, the last of a group of ten or 12 at a time receiving their
experience. Parents, siblings, extended
white coats that evening. We were so proud. I walked along
the stage in the lecture hall when a woman in lavender suit
family and friends occupied two lecture halls—our class is
really that large—and watched a live broadcast stream on a
with blonde hair grabbed my arm and turned me toward her;
projected monitor. My family was not on the island, but was
her face, white as a ghost and her eyes open wide. “Call me;
able to view the ceremony, thanks to the beauty of the Internet.
my name is McGill,” she said to me. “OK” I replied, thinking
But I digress.
nothing of the event except for how unusual it was for a random
When I first started talking about my interest in medicine,
first-term student like myself to be pinned by faculty already.
people who knew me thought it overly romantic that I was
My friend Maryann was robed by her in the next set of students
“following in my [late] father’s footsteps.” I’m not sure how
after I left the stage. As the woman robed her, she mentioned
much of an impression his medical career had on my life having
been only 4 years old when he passed away, but if personality
is genetic, then I suppose it’s obvious that similar interests are
naturally passed from parents to offspring, and I obtained the
gene for predisposition into the medical field…or something
A week later, I received an e-mail from a Dr. Frances McGill.
It read as follows:
Dear Frederic Bertino, welcome to SGUSOM
When I heard your name, and saw you pass on the stage
for the white coat, I had to contact you. We had a dear friend,
like that.
But about white coats—it’s terrifying, shocking, and
Dr. Freddie Bertino, years ago from Mary Immaculate Hospital,
enlightening to have received one. The aura of the medical
Queens, NY, who became a radiologist on Lon Island. Dr.
profession
The
Bertino very sadly died at a young age. I am wondering if you are
title “doctor” or “physician/surgeon” has a status not only
related? If so, and if you would like to talk or meet, please call me.
echoes
and
resounds
among
people.
socioeconomically (and not even economically so much
anymore) but ethically. My colleagues and I were sworn in that
I am the woman rober who said “Call me” to you—lavender
suit, short blond. Best to you here, Fran McGill, MD
evening and took a vow of selflessness and healing as if we were
Astounded and shaken, I could not believe that someone
given a gift and power to cure the masses; as a priest does when
who knew my father found me on a small Caribbean Island. I
he enters a life devoted to God.
thought it necessary to inquire home about this mystery woman.
Romanticized of course…or is it?
My father was a selfless person, or so I have been told. He
32
her hands were trembling.
My mother vaguely recalled the name. She told me that she
may have written a letter to us after my father passed away in 1994,
would go to the ends of the earth to help a fellow human being,
but had never met her in person. My mom gave me some names
family member, and friend. Everyone he met off the street was his
of people of whom my father knew in Bologna, Italy, when he
friend, and if you are familiar with the FOF story, you know what I
studied medicine there, and told me to inquire of the connection.
mean. He did it from the selflessness of his heart because he was
I replied to Dr. McGill’s e-mail immediately, and waited a week
a giver, and took the same oath I did that day many years ago.
before I finally caved and called her like she had suggested.
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She asked me over the phone if there was a relation, and I
said yes. I told her the story of how he passed and who my family
was, and she told me how she knew him in bits and pieces. It
turned out, she was an ICU nurse at Mary Immaculate when he
The Beginning
By Racher Croney
was an intern or transitionary (foreign students had to do a year
of transitionary rotations in the US before they could obtain
residencies or internships in hospitals). She invited me to dinner
It’s unquestionably breathtaking, soul-calming and simply amazing
to speak further and we met in person just this past weekend.
just gazing into the skies that mark the dawn of a new day. Royal Blue,
Over food, she filled me in on her history with SGUSOM
and how she studied medicine at the school, became a very
foamy white clouds with a beautiful burst of sunlight hovering over
the earth’s surface in all its beauty is indeed life personified!
successful OB/GYN, returned to the island to teach after
practicing medicine in New York, and of course how my father
This is the kind of day today—hot and sunny, perhaps the kind to even
influenced her life. She said that they had the same circle of
spend on the beach in a body of crystal blue waters and therapeutic
friends in their late 20s and 30s and, after my dad had become
white sand. The kind to take an island tour around the Spice Isle or
a radiologist on Long Island (where my family eventually settled
to relax on a catamaran yacht as it coasts aimlessly over the gentle
down), she had seen him as a patient and he constantly checked
waves with no distinct destination, but to enjoy the inherent beauty
on her well-being even after she was out of his care. She gave
that is all Grenada and the gift of Mother Nature.
me the rundown of “how to succeed at SGU” and where to find
inexpensive groceries and supplies, and our evening concluded
A day to perhaps indulge in the ultimate form of relaxation; no doubt
with her insisting to help me in every way possible, just like my
sleep may seem like a spring in the midst of the desert, but with the
father did for those around him when he was alive.
They say guardian angels exist. They follow us around and
beckoning call of sun, sea, and land, it’s a magnificent day with lots
to see and do.
ensure the forces of our universe stay as balanced as they
can, and always come in the clutch when we have a sense of
Perhaps a drink or two, or a relaxing day in good company; truly
feeling alone or distant from other people (in my case, in
nothing comes close to a peace of mind, a soothing day such as this
another country). If this intervention was not that of something
and company in whose presence time stops; a picture-perfect moment,
surreal, then I’m not sure what to call it other than an extremely
a portrait scene and a breathtaking vision of God’s handiwork.
appropriate coincidence. I will say, though, that I have never
attributed the events in my life to the possibility of divine or
I relax, I unwind, and I live.
supernatural intervention, but to that of cosmic karma or
balance or human effort. But after this occurrence, I certainly
I prepare for a journey which brings me to a window of opportunity
have a more open mind about its possibility. It’s as if I was
and a world of good fortune!
being guided to the profession and the location all along and
supervised all the while, as a father does for his son.
I asked Dr. McGill how on earth she knew it was me as I walked
across the stage that evening of the White Coat Ceremony. She
covered her mouth and nose with both hands and stared deeply
at me: “You have your father’s eyes” she said.
Frederic is a student in the School of Medicine pursuing an
MD degree.
Mace 2012
33
From One Paradise To Another
By Sherry Galley
Bella is much more of a social butterfly and her primary concern
consists of whose lap she will sleep on next, but my Bubba is
much different. I’ve known him longer than I’ve known my
husband and being my first pet ever, he was a mama’s boy. I
couldn’t fathom leaving him again. Having a full-time job at SGU,
oving out to the middle of the
I was not home much and decided it would be best for him to
ocean, there was little we could bring.
stay, where he would never be alone. We left Texas in August,
Plastic bins containing the last of what
heartbroken. He began acting out and hiding from my family
we own sat in my parent’s garage in
and it became obvious we were both having a difficult time with
Spring, Texas. As newlyweds, we moved to Grenada so my
the separation. I began graduate school and was home more
husband could pursue his lifelong dream of becoming a
than I used to be.
veterinarian. We sold almost everything we owned to help pay
for the move and left our unopened wedding presents and
34
After careful planning, we combined all of our frequent flyer
miles and decided to go home to get him. We booked a flight
our jobs. Most importantly, we left a part of our family: our two
for November 5, 2011, and I was anxious to have my Bubba on
Boston Terriers, Bubba and Bella. Although incredibly difficult,
the island. Even though Bella was staying behind, I was excited
we were so grateful for this opportunity and were willing to do
to have my first love with me, to keep me company and enjoy
anything so that Monty could pursue his dream.
our fabulous island life. On September 17, I received a call from
We arrived in January 2011; our first trip to Grenada took
my family explaining that Bubba had a seizure. Having no real
us over 20 hours of travel. We fell in love with the island and
history of seizures, we had reason to be concerned. After taking
the St. George’s University community immediately. Ready
him to a veterinarian in town, she assured my family he was fine.
to make this our home for the next three years, we were still
As the week went on, he had a seizure every day and I became
missing two things to complete this idea of paradise: Bubba
extremely anxious to get home. My family took him to a different
and Bella. We spent our first term on campus getting to know
veterinarian at the end of the week where he was prescribed
our SGU family. I explored the island and helped Monty and
medication to help with the seizures but his condition worsened
his classmates whenever I could while they diligently attended
and we knew we had to get him to a neurologist quick. Even
class. We would spend our evenings talking about how much
though Monty had midterms and I was in the last two weeks of
we missed our “children” and discussing different ways they
my first graduate class, he did everything in his power to get my
would enjoy this beautiful island.
flight moved to a closer date.
When we went back home for the summer, we realized how
After many hours on the phone and several flight changes,
much we really missed them and wanted more than anything
Monty was able to move my flight to Saturday, October 8. I am
for them to be in Grenada with us but did not want to put them
fortunate to work with such amazing people who supported my
through the long trip. We hesitantly decided to leave them with
decision to leave at an earlier date. Before leaving, we consulted
my parents, thinking it would be best for them. We moved off
with many of the talented large- and small-animal veterinarians
of campus for our second term and spent nine months on the
at SGU. They educated us on every possibility and were given
island without them. When we got back to Texas in May, we
PowerPoints from Monty’s professors, Drs. Green and Figeiredo.
were ecstatic to have them back with us. I spent most of the
One of the newest additions to our faculty, a neurologist named
summer at my parent’s house while Monty traveled back and
Dr. Higginbotham, graciously agreed to see Bubba once he was
forth from Louisiana every weekend where he worked. During
on the island. Twenty hours later, I arrived in Texas to find Bubba,
the summer, my bond with them strengthened more than ever.
lying on the floor, barely coherent. He heard my voice, tried to
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stand up, but failed. I had seen him via Skype on a daily basis,
but nothing could have prepared me for his condition. I held
him in my arms and cried, thanking God that he was still alive.
I stayed up all night with him, worried about his fading health.
On Monday, the neurologist recommended an MRI to
pinpoint the cause of the seizures. Being students, we did not
have the money for all the necessary testing, so we started
treating him symptomatically. We began to see an improvement
almost immediately. Every day he became more like the Bubba I
had left in August.
By Sunday, he was walking again and on the plane back with
me to Grenada. I decided I was never leaving him again. We
had an amazing three weeks here. He went to the beach for the
first time and loved it. Despite having some difficulty walking,
he had no problem on the beautiful beaches of Grenada. He
played in the sand and had his own life vest, which he wore
proudly while swimming in the ocean.
On Sunday evening, October 30, he had his first seizure in
weeks. After consulting with Dr. Higginbotham, Dr. Corrigan
and Dr. Delgado, we decided to put him back on his full dose
of medication in hopes of prolonging his life. They were almost
certain it was a brain tumor and told us we had one month left with
him. We were devastated but realized we had done everything
humanly possible for him. He had a seizure every day that week,
which meant Dr. Corrigan was receiving a nightly phone call from
us. She did everything possible to help us understand and cope
with what was going on. After discussing the situation with the
incredibly compassionate faculty I work with, Dr. Lunn and Dr.
Chaney, I asked to take Friday off since I was having a hard time
dealing with the potential loss of my best friend of seven years.
Unfortunately, Monty couldn’t do the same since he had an exam
that day and two in the upcoming week.
My ‘Bubs’ and I had a special day and he never left my side.
Bubba
He spent most of it on my lap, sleeping off his high dosage of
medication. He had a seizure Friday evening and we knew our
We spent the rest of the morning interchangeably sleeping
time was running out. That night, in a tear-filled conversation, we
and crying. By noon, most of our St. George’s family had heard
told him that we loved him and that we would miss him but we
about Bubba’s passing. Phone calls, emails, text messages,
understood that he had to go. Bubba spent time snuggling back
personally written notes, Skype messages, Facebook messages,
and forth between the both of us and we knew he understood. On
flowers, candy, baked goods, rum, words of compassion, and
November 5 at 2:40 am, we awoke to him having a seizure. He had
hugs came for days. We had him cremated with the help of Dr.
several episodes in an hour and we knew that it may be time. We
Chaney and her husband, J, who made sure he arrived to the
called the small animal clinic and Dr. Dahill was the veterinarian
funeral home without a problem.
working that night. Being a good friend, she was aware of our
With my Bubba gone, so is a huge piece of my heart.
situation. Going through a very similar tragedy herself just a few
Although I am missing part of my family, I now know we have a
weeks prior, we were happy to see her. We were put in an exam
whole new family consisting of faculty, staff, classmates, and co-
room when Bubba had his last seizure in my arms. I told him that I
workers. I could not imagine getting through this without the
loved him and that I would miss him but I understood that he had
support of our SGU family, we can’t thank y’all enough. We’re
to leave us. He went from heavily panting to breathing very slowly.
looking forward to sharing the rest of our time here with all of
I knew he heard me. After checking his heart rate, Monty realized
these amazing people. Bubba may have left our paradise, but
the severity of the situation, grabbed Bubba from me, and ran to
we know he is in his own paradise now.
the back of the clinic to find Dr. Dahill. We laid him on the table,
but he was already gone, leaving very peacefully. He died on the
exact date of my initial flight.
Sherry is the operations manager for large animal medicine
and surgery.
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35
The Evolution of Beauty Enhanced
By Racher Croney
there was more than just an evolution towards its present
acceptance. Instead it can be recognized as a revolution that
began with the creativity of many native countries inventing
their own form of beauty enhancers. Geishas in Japan, which
refers to artisans or art persons, used crushed safflower petals
ophistication, class, style or just simply a
to make lipsticks which were used to paint the eyebrows, the
beautiful look is more than just a woman’s desire
edges of the eyes and the lips, but off course a lot has changed
and a man’s fantasy in today’s society. Rather,
in terms of production today.
what it has become is the market for many
companies worldwide wishing to appease this
innate desire and rise to the top of the financial spectrum.
News and author of the article “Lipstick,” “Making lipstick is
similar to making crayons—a lot of heating and stirring and
It has become a business where both parties involved
mixing goes on,” with the basic ingredients being waxes (which
are given the opportunity to benefit from the economic
is basically for texture and to maintain stiffness), pigments, oils
arrangements of demand and supply. Furthermore, it can be
and emollients. The pigment in dyes gives lipsticks their color
reasonably deduced that both cosmetic and skin care products
and among them are a variety of dyes such as Bromo acid, D&C
are perhaps of equal importance when likened to the basic
red no. 27, D&C Red no. 21 and D&C Orange no. 17 which is an
essentials used on a day-to-day basis by the average consumer.
example of an insoluble dye commonly referred to as lakes.
This heightened desire for beauty and a keen sense of self
As far as fats and oils are concerned, some of the most
consciousness has created a market in and of itself, which is more
commonly used nutrients are that of petrolatum, lanolin, cocoa
than capable of meeting the increasing demand for products
butter, castor oil, olive oil and mineral oil with more recently
and the development of new initiatives towards achieving skin
added moisturizers towards achieving that “skin of envy” that is
of envy, unfathomable beauty and the right cosmetics to paint
protected against the elements: such as collagen, amino acids,
the picture.
vitamin E, and sun screens. And it is from a combination of
It must be noted however that while the acquisition
and maintenance of beauty has always been an element
these ingredients that lipsticks of frosted, mattes, sheers, stains
and long lasting colours are produced
characteristic of human nature, with cosmetics invented for
But even the journey of acceptance from then to now
the purpose of enhancement and a flawless finish, its initial
have been one met with many obstacles. Meg Cohen Ragas
acceptance and evolution has been a tumultuous one.
and Karen Kozlowski in their book, “Read My Lips: A Cultural
The online encyclopedia defines cosmetics as substances
History of Lipstick” gave account of Thomas Hall, an English
created to enhance the beauty of the human body be it hair,
pastor and author of the 1653 book, Loathsomeness of Long
nails or skin; and today these are evident in the foundations,
Haire. Hall led a mass movement declaring that face painting
mascara, lipstick, nail polish and hair dyes used throughout
was the “devil’s work” and the women who painted their face
the world. It is a drastic development since its ‘1800’ status as
and lips were trying to, “ensnare others and to kindle a fire and
being dubbed impolite by Queen Victoria, and something worn
flame of lust in the hearts of those who cast their eyes upon
by actors and prostitutes. Following World War II, however, its
them.” But it gets even worse: In 1770 a law was passed against
popularity grew in western countries, though it still remained
lipstick by the British Empire stating that, “women found guilty
banned in places such as Nazi Germany.
of seducing men into matrimony by cosmetic means could be
Since the early resistance met by the introduction of
cosmetics and its more-than-eager users during the 1800s,
36
According to Rita Johnson of Chemical and Engineering
Mace 2012
tried for witchcraft.”
However, following World War II and the booming movie
Untitled
By Nafeesah Abdullateef
industry, lipstick slowly began to gain respectability within
society and was now regarded as a female priority or with
regard to the war a ‘patriotic duty’ of the women.
The leading women in the industry back then, such as Elizabeth
Arden and Helena Rubinstein, have larger-than-life reputations
today. They opened the first-ever set of beauty parlors, offering
services to women in the forms of hair dressing, facial massages
and makeup applications. Today, the industry is worth $160
billion yearly inclusive of cosmetic surgery, health and fitness and
dieting according to the online encyclopedia, Knowledgerush.
However, in a further breakdown of the industry’s net worth,
it is noted that cosmetics account for a greater percentage of
the $160 billion figure, with perfumes accounting for $15 billion,
make-up $18 billion, skin care $24 billion, and hair care $38 billion.
Today the oldest and largest firm still remains L’Oréal,
founded in 1909 by Eugene Shueller as “The French Harmless
Hair Colouring Company.” However, the real groundbreakers
establishing the market were the encyclopedia-dubbed
“American Trio:” Elizabeth Arden, Helena Rubinstein and Max
Obscured by thoughts and beliefs of inadequacy,
Dreams are hindered from flourishing.
A bold defiant vision then issues, and avidly presses forth,
Ignoring whatever inhibitions may arise,
Lead is forced against paper.
A dot emerges, transformed into a line, then a curve,
More dots, lines and curves ensue,
Fears have been matted.
Enabling the birth of a splendid vision.
The vision of a face that has toiled heedlessly in the rays of anguish
now emerges.
Bronzed by the sunlight and coloured by experience and hopes of
dreams to come.
No longer afraid to dream
Nor to make dreams a reality
Nafeesah is a student in the School of Arts and Sciences pursuing a
degree in management information systems.
Factor—with the introduction of Revlon and Estée Lauder right
after World War II.
Whether the ingredients in some cosmetics are fish scales
of the pearl essence derived from the scales, by products from
some plants or even the poisonous mercury once used by the
Romans and ancient Egyptians, it must be doing something
right because it is one of the most, if not the most, successful
industries in the world to date.
The journey from then to now has been eventful and
challenging, with blind sides as to what the end result would
have been in the imminent years, but such is the course life
often takes us on. It starts with a dream or vision, followed
by the proactive steps towards its realization and a world of
corners, obstacles and bumps along the way. What we clearly
see, however, is that your present is perhaps part of a bigger
picture, taking you to the place you want to be, or never thought
you would have been.
Your present is only a stepping stone towards destiny, and
the evolution of “enhanced beauty” was that said stepping
stone to a multi-billion-dollar cosmetic industry today. What
lies ahead for you?
Original artwork by Nafeesah Abdullateef. This picture was
originally sketched by hand, then enhanced and colored using
Adobe Photoshop.
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37
Like Déjà Vu (All Over Again)
By Jim Steinman, MD
of getting involved, but I don’t want to jump on a sinking ship,”
he said. That was Dr. Morris Alpert, discussing his thoughts with
Dr. William McCord before they became part of the charter
institution, which has now been progressing for 35 years.
I told Dr. Alpert that I had actually been on a few sinking
could never find a four-leaf clover when looking.
ships (or boats) that I had built myself, and though I had asked
But just stop looking and one might appear. Like trying
my boss, Dr. Safadi, at the lab where I had seen the St. George’s
to remember a word or a name, I have heard others
ad whether he thought I would be a fool for entering on this
comment that it’s usually because we are looking for the
adventure, he said, “You want to be a doctor? What the hell
wrong word or name, but I often find the word popping into
difference does it make where you go?” So I went. I had only
my mind several minutes (or hours) later when it serves little
been there for a short time, but I encouraged Dr. Alpert and Dr.
use or has lost its moment.
McCord to come aboard.
One day I was working in the hospital lab, those many years
Now those nearly 35 years since beginning classes in
ago in upstate New York. At age 29, I had about given up hope
Grenada and so many challenges and changes which have
of ever achieving my goal of becoming a doctor. I had applied
taken place in my life and in the nature and practice of medicine,
to join the Peace Corps and was being processed to go to
I was asked by one of the midlevel providers with whom I work
West Africa, riding a camel across the Niger southern Sahara
in a busy emergency room whether I would do it all again. I told
to perform lab tech duties in a French-speaking community
them I would, without hesitation, and would encourage anyone
(after specifically indicating in my application that I would
who was so inclined to do the same.
prefer not to be in a desert environment or in a place where
Fate or serendipity have touched my life in some favorable
French was the local language). This was after several years of
ways. My work took me to Charleston, SC, where I met my wife,
applications to medical school (27 applications) and a hiatus in
Catherine 17 years ago. It was not the first marriage for either
my undergraduate education to live out my “pre-retirement”
of us. I wasn’t sure at first if it was serendipity or zemblanity
years as a rock musician and a communal rarmer.
(the opposite of serendipity, also sometimes referred to as
That evening in the lab, I glanced at a New York Times that lay
bahramdipity) that separated me from my previous spouse and
open on the bench, which happened to have an advertisement
family. But after 17 years of happy married life, it seems God or
which stated, “Now accepting applications…” I believe that
the fates have been kind to us. We left Charleston to work in rural
was the first ad from St. George’s University School of Medicine,
Alaska for a year, then flying back to upstate New York in a 1956
around the end of October 1976. Whether it was serendipity or
Piper Tripacer we purchased in Dillingham, AK, (where there were
someone’s kind intentions that put the ad there for me to see, I
few roads and 300 miles to the nearest Nordstroms). I could write
soon saw it as a dream come true. I was quite happy to trade the
a longer story about our adventures in Alaska, perhaps will one
prospect of riding a camel across the hot Sahara for a bit of azure
day, but this is where my story ends for now.
blue ocean at the margin of the sands. I began my classes at the
True Blue campus on my 30th birthday, January 17, 1977.
Not long after that day I was swimming with a classmate on
I don’t believe you can look for serendipity to happen, but
my experience has been that it is best to grab on to it, when you
find it, with all you’ve got.
Grand Anse near the dormitory on a typical Grenadian evening
PS: I know that’s what Charlie Modica did when he got St.
following lectures. Standing knee deep in the water not far away
George’s going. I always say that Charlie never made a promise,
I saw two elderly gentlemen talking. “What do you boys think
especially to us, in the Charter Class, that he couldn’t keep.
about the school so far?” one of the men asked. “I am thinking
Dr. Steinman graduated from the School of Medicine in 1981.
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Detour
By Michael Cushing, MD
with my wife and I and told me that he would take out my spleen,
the distal half of my pancreas (with the cancer in it) and sew me
up. From there, I would go on with my life. This meeting had a
profound effect on me as a patient and as a physician. More on
this later.
y the time you folks are reading this, I’ll
I wandered into the Kaiser Sunset facility on the morning of
have had my belly sliced-open for a second
January 5 , not fully understanding just how bad the pain would
time. I suspect I’ll be hitting the morphine
be following the surgery. I jocularly used a marking pen to
clicker to stifle the miserable pain that is a
leave little notes on my body. “Do NOT take this arm”; “Do not
result of slicing through the abdominal wall in order to gain
take this arm, either”; “Cut along the dotted line”; “Leave the
access to the cancer that has recurred in my lymph nodes and
kidneys alone.” That sort of sophomoric humor. I learned later
on my liver.
that the writings were not taken in the spirit in which they were
The story started back in November of 2004 when I’d gone
to my internist to ask for a CT of the abdomen. I’d been having
pain in my lower left abdomen for a few months, so I wanted to
given; I guess it made the prep more difficult. Well, I thought it
was funny….
As I drifted off into my anesthetic dream world, I suddenly
make sure nothing was up. The CT was done and,
lo and behold, a lesion was found in my pancreas. I
suppose you could say it was serendipity that led to
this. Without the CT, I wouldn’t have known about
this critter until varied and sundry symptoms had
popped up. And I wouldn’t have had the CT if I
hadn’t had the pain in the left lower quadrant.
As it turned out, this was a rare pancreatic cancer,
called a pancreatic neuroendocrine tumor, or PNET.
What was interesting about this tumor is that I
shared the same diagnosis as Steve Jobs had and it
was about this time that Jobs’ tumor became public.
When the radiologist reading my CT uttered that I
had a “pancreatic lesion,” I turned to the people
I realized how much more of a physician I could
be, knowing that my words could also lift the
spirits of those around me, that my often clumsy
attempts could be heard by the patients and it
would give them solace, hope, and strength to
deal with their issues.
standing with me in the room and I said “I’m going
to be OK.” You could have heard a pin drop.
That was the beginning of a sojourn that has run into its sixth
awoke and couldn’t catch my breath, something like coming up
year. After a flurry of tests, including the dreaded octreotide
for air after a deep dive into water but you can’t get enough air.
scan, an esophageal ultrasound-guided biopsy of the tumor
It had been a long time since I’d been this frightened or in so
and multiple blood tests, I was scheduled for surgery on
much pain. The surgery was over, and the real struggle began.
January 3, 2005. The tumor itself was about 4 centermeters in
I was planted in my room on the fifth floor at Sunset, wanting
size, well-defined and encapsulated. I met with the oncologic
to move, to get going, to start healing, but my body was
surgeon, Dr. Ted O’Connell, a guru at Kaiser Sunset Hospital in
adamantly refusing my efforts. Later that afternoon, I tried
West Los Angeles, CA. It was a pretty neat meeting as Ted sat
sitting up with help from my wife, Tina. Whoa, the pain meter
Mace 2012
39
jumped over the 10+ mark. I had to get up and move, just had
to. So I did. Took a very short walk into the hallway, then back to
the supine position.
I had this little hand grenade hanging out of my belly, a
Jackson-Pratt drain that would be my “little friend” for the next
week. It was there to drain fluid out of the abdominal cavity that
my pancreas had been sitting so comfortably in a few hours
earlier. The pancreas is a friable piece of tissue and it can be very
unforgiving if it breaks down. The enzymes and other proteins
of the pancreas can begin an “auto-digesting” process if they
aren’t cleared rapidly. Hence, the drain.
Laying in a bed all day was a new experience for me. One
has way too much time to dwell on…the pain. Yeah, this was
not something that Mrs. Cushing’s little boy was used to. So,
my thumb started getting sore from punching the “clicker,” the
So, here I am writing about something that happened almost
seven years ago. Trouble is, the cancer didn’t go away. It just
hung around quietly, biding its time, waiting to dictate its terms
to me as to where my life should go. And I’m not about to let
that happen.
This cancer was probably one of the best things to happen
to me as a person, as a physician. I learned a lot about myself,
my patients and the God who has blessed my life with so much.
As I mentioned at the beginning, I’ve had my second
surgery to remove the PNET from some nodes in
the retroperitoneum and from my liver. I’m also
I know that Christ is with me, and that He has
assuming that I’ve survived the surgery and am
walked beside me. More importantly, He is a part
great drug! The last time I was cut, it took a good
of each day that I’m alive, and that each of my
When you’re stuffed after eating one half of a taco,
patients has Christ in them. My day at work is a
living prayer, and that keeps me in line.
clicking the morphine drip for pain control. What a
month to regain some modicum of an appetite.
life is hard!
This entire experience has been a focal point in
my life. As a physician, for many years, I had never
realized the power that a few words could hold to
give a patient hope and strength to get through
device that would squirt a pre-set amount of morphine into my
veins to help curb the pain. So, I would try to think of anything
that would distract my neurons from the nasty signals coming
from my gut. I was slowly gaining an appreciation for all of
those patients I’d had in the past recovering from gut surgery,
before the advent of laparoscopic surgeries. As a matter of fact,
I started thinking that this was God’s way of humbling me for
thinking that the patients had been exaggerating their pain
experience! Empathy is taught by a very tough teacher.
As each day melted into the next, I slowly gained my strength
and began to wander the halls with my trusty IV pole at my side.
Another fun part of the recovery was the foley cath—it’s a bag
carried in my other hand while walking. I often wondered if this
was what the expression “yanking your chain” referred to!
The Thursday after my surgery was “get out of jail” day. I was
peeing, farting and eating. I suppose the final cue that I was
ready to go was my hanging a “BA” out my fifth-floor window at
the noise and tumult of Sunset Boulevard. My wife was shocked,
shocked that I would do this!
I left the hospital that evening, my wife ever so gently
helping me into the car, her warm eyes conveying her love and
concern for me. She would get me home and take care of me
over the next week, never griping, always encouraging, ever so
patient with my whining. Her favorite rejoinder to my whining
was “Try having a baby, or two or three.” Ya gotta hand it to
those Jersey girls.
40
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whatever health crisis he or she was going through.
Maybe it was a sense of humility that was behind this, a feeling
that I didn’t want to rise above my patients. This newfound
wisdom dropped on me after my visit with Ted O’Connell, the
surgeon the first time around.
My wife, Tina, and I had gone in for a pre-op visit to speak
with Ted and the chief resident who would be working on me.
The spleen and half of my pancreas would be removed and I
could go on with the rest of my life. I was overwhelmed with as
deep an emotion as I’ve ever felt in my life. This guy was telling
me that this cancer would be gone and that I’d be around
for a while. He never promised me that there would not be a
recurrence, and deep down I knew it could be a possibility. His
words lifted up my spirit, my very soul, and the tears just hit me,
just like that. Tina was crying, too. And it dawned on me that
God had touched me, and that hope came into my heart. Most
of the fear that I’d been weighed down with just evaporated. It
was also something of an epiphany for me in that I realized how
much more of a physician I could be, knowing that my words
could also lift the spirits of those around me, that my often
clumsy attempts could be heard by the patients and it would
give them solace, hope, and strength to deal with their issues.
Sometimes I think I was a pretty dense guy!
I was constantly bothered after the surgery by a nagging
question as to why I was spared an early, miserable death
from this pancreatic cancer. Usually, when one has a “canc in
the panc,” it is a death sentence, most people dying within
6-24 months. I have to explain to those around me that mine is
different, that my survival will be years, not months. Also, there
are new meds out there to specifically treat PNET, so the odds
have greatly improved.
The nagging continued for two years, and I kept praying to
God and asking Him what’s going on. Well, a good friend of
mine, George, had been “harassing” me to go to this retreat
called Cursillo, a Catholic movement that seeks to strengthen
each Cursillista’s Faith and encourages us to share and spread
our Catholic Faith with those around us. Well, getting together
with a bunch of guys for three days over a weekend was not
too enticing to me and I kept putting off going. Finally, to get
George off my case, I agreed to a weekend. I couldn’t come up
with any excuses to dodge it!
That weekend was another profound focal point in my life,
as a physician and as a Catholic man. I realized how much I was
loved by the community around me and that God had blessed
me with the opportunity to share with these people. More
importantly, it brought me even closer to God, to Jesus and the
Spirit. It gave me a greater sense of what my role as a physician
is and how I could share this with my patients. It brought a sense
of peace to my troubled spirit, and that nagging question was
finally answered.
So, I’m on the road to recovery as you read this. The surgery
is a bump in the road to be driven over, and I am moving forward
with my life. Trust me, I could have done without this surgery! My
advice to my readers is to avoid it! However, I have approached
it with a different perspective than I did the first one. I know
that Christ is with me, and that He has walked beside me. More
Who Are We?
By Kavi Ali
Who are we but not slaves to the flesh?
Do we not hunger for the thrill of a fresh kill?
Or bore from the familiarity of consistency,
Are we bonded by the laws of man or that of God?
Some say we are but spiritual beings having a human
experience
Is that the excuse we use for our faults?
Have we properly conceptualized life and its actions?
Are we living or being lived?
Why do we hunger for a taste that will never be,
Do I continue to accept that I will never be fulfilled?
Or die trying to fill that need,
Yet never enjoy the simplicity around me.
Till my death I may never appreciate the bird that sings within
the trees
But at death, it is the last with me.
Kavi is a student in the School of Medicine pursing an MD
degree.
importantly, He is a part of each day that I’m alive, and that each
of my patients has Christ in them. My day at work is a living
prayer, and that keeps me in line.
My life has been so blessed. So many events have happened
over the past seven years. My daughter’s marriage; my new
grandsons; my daughters’ graduations and success in school;
nearly 30 years married to a beautiful woman who continues to
tolerate my inanities. My wife and kids know that if I were to die
tomorrow (or if I die on the operating table), I know that God
will welcome me home, that I have run that race that St. Paul
talks about. Assuming that I have made it through the surgery
and am recovering as you read this, I plan to keep sharing my
hope, my strength and my love of God with all of my patients,
my Family and Friends. I hope that those of you who read this
will find an encouraging message that you, too, can share with
those around you!
Dr. Cushing graduated from the School of Medicine in 1981.
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41
On Serendipity
By Steven B. Orkin
by the fact that I’m writing these words for a literary magazine
produced by a medical school I’d never heard of, located on a
tiny Caribbean island I’d only barely heard of prior to working
here. If anyone had told me I’d end up writing performance
appraisals for graduating medical students, I wouldn’t have
ife can be a difficult and complicated
gone so far as to tell them they were crazy, but I would have said
business. We face formidable challenges every
it was extremely unlikely. I had no medical background. I’d never
day: relationships, finances, career. Even the
worked in an academic environment or dealt with students.
not-so-formidable challenges can compound
each other and become tidal waves instead of just the tide.
But serendipity padded onto my road of life as softly and
elegantly as a cat in motion. My résumé happened to be
Sometimes, in the face of all the adversity life hands us,
found by Margaret Fortunato, the former head of the Clinical
dreams get dim. The windows of possibility become smudged
Department here at USS. She took a chance and called me for
and cracked. We feel a pull toward the dark side. Turning
an interview.
cynical, ambivalent, even apathetic seems like a pretty good
deal, maybe the only deal in town.
I could have blown that call off under the cynical assumption
that it was just a cattle call type of situation. They probably
But it isn’t. Let me clue you in on a little secret: Magic is alive
needed someone very badly and cast out the net for anyone
and well, and there’s plenty of it out there. You just have to dig
who came close. I probably had no chance of actually getting
a little deeper to find it. One of the most amazing sources of
the job, so why bother? Besides, there were plenty of other
magic we have is serendipity.
Merriam-Webster defines it as follows:
positions out there. Why waste my time on something I never
even specifically applied for?
Cynicism, I’ve found, tends to be a self-fulfilling prophecy,
The faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable
and is a trait that should be avoided whenever possible. We
things not sought for.
could argue, in fact, that it is the very antithesis of serendipity;
certainly its mortal enemy. In light of this, I took that call and
That’s a very good start, but there’s more to it. For one
went to that interview. And here I am, seven years later, still
thing, serendipity requires a sort of playful inquisitiveness, a
loving the job and the fact that I’m making a difference to
willingness to embrace the unexpected and capitalize on it. It
both the students I work with and the world beyond, which will
allows us to move in new and unanticipated directions, perhaps
ultimately benefit from all those new doctors.
better ones than we would have otherwise taken.
So, what’s the message? The message is that we have to keep
Serendipity is quite versatile. It works in both big and small
our minds and hearts open to allow the magic of serendipity to
ways. Sometimes, it arrives in the form of a million dollar check
do its work, to let good fortune flow, to shine new light through
from a forgotten uncle or finding the lost Mark Twain novel
old windows. Thus, I leave you with this:
while cleaning out your attic. Most of the time, it’s a happy
accident that gives us a shot in the arm but doesn’t change
Orkin’s Law of Serendipitous Possibility: To embrace life’s full
potential, we must maintain our willingness to be surprised.
our lives dramatically. Other times, it’s more subtle, often only
perceivable through the clarity of 20-20 hindsight. It’s a phone
Steven Orkin is the MSPE Supervisor for St. George’s
call, an ad in the paper, a conversation in a doctor’s office or in
University. You can learn more about him at his website,
line at the bank, an impromptu click of a mouse.
www.stevenorkin.com, and blog, orkinlaw.blogspot.com.
Certainly, it has manifested in my own life, as evidenced
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Moments to a Destiny Unknown
By Racher Croney
the top of the mountain. The path is often met with a lot of the
unexpected, a lot of the unwanted and unexplainable but it’s
just that—a path.
Our present in no way defines the future, but serendipity
takes us to the unexpected and the moments that just take
oments are milliseconds of a
our breath away. Don’t fret because your destiny is somewhat
minute which affect the next few years
unknown, or because you’re currently in a cave whose walls are
to a lifetime of our lives. Split seconds
thousands of feet higher than where you stand. True enough, life
in which the decisions we make and
sometimes takes us to destinations where the road is long and
actions we take manipulate or mitigate the favorable outcomes
winding with no glimpse of blue skies or sunlight. To a desert in
to a destiny known or unknown; seconds in which our lives
and of itself, which ironically correlates to the dry spells of life
figuratively ‘hang in the balance’ of destiny, influenced by our
prone to disastrous outcomes. But stop for a moment. Think—
own actions.
maybe it has to get worse before it gets better, and the beauty
Life is a journey, and more than the cliché, it is often
of the unknown is a hope in the unexpected things that happen
regarded as. It is not a dress rehearsal, but the real deal. We
throughout life that bring us to a place we never thought of
get the opportunity to try and fail, the opportunity to make
being—to blessings beyond our imagination, to happiness
mistakes and correct them, the opportunity to explore and
unbound and even love immeasurable.
to experiment. But one begs the question as to how many
opportunities are we given, how many “dresses can we try on,”
Your “now,” may just be your “in transit” to another level,
and a level of true self-actualization.
how many mistakes can we make and to what severity, and how
many explorations and experiments can we conduct before
arriving at a conclusion?
The beauty of this wonderful phenomenon called life is that
we are given a gift, and what we do with that gift is entirely
up to us. Every minute of each day are milliseconds towards
an ultimate fate. We grow, experience life, make decisions—
change them; love, live, hurt and in those moments, never
realize that there is a bigger picture.
Many times we ask the questions “Why me?” and “Why this?”
but, have we ever stopped to consider why not me, or why not
this, despite the painful, and yes, disturbing situations we often
encounter? Sometimes we have to go over the huddles, have
to fall in the potholes and tread through the valleys to get to
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43
Serendipity…Thanks to SGUSVM
Eileen Rowan, VMD
months later, I received a phone call from a Mr. Bob Ryan, who
apologized for taking two months to respond to my letter, but
he had just received it because I had mailed it to Grenada and
it had to be forwarded to him. Well, that’s where the address
was in the JAVMA Directory, but Mr. Ryan informed me their
hat has serendipity got to do with
business office was in Bay Shore, about an hour’s drive from my
my marriage to your Associate Dean of
hospital.
Enrolment Planning, Bob Ryan?
There I was, a happy, self-employed
Veterinarian with my own small animal hospital in Bayville, New
Bob and I had an informative discussion about SGU, and he
and Jeanne Ciullo, the veterinary recruiter, came to my clinic
to tell me more about the School of Veterinary Medicine. Over
York, my own home, car, all paid off; no college loans; fun
lunch, Bob and Jeanne gave me all the details about the history
hobbies like skiing and intense gardening, and after divorcing
of SGU and its medical school, which was well established
20 years before, having learned to love the single life. I even
and about 25 years old. Due to a shortage of SGU veterinary
had my ‘retirement’ years planned as a National Parks Ranger
graduates to interview veterinary applicants back in the early
half the year, and doing veterinary relief work the other half
years, Bob asked me if I would be interested in interviewing
while touring the country with my friend Bonnie (many of you
Veterinary applicants. I agreed, and that set up two years of
remember Bonnie from the Bay Shore office) and my cats.
occasional calls to Bob to answer questions coming from those
applicants. I got to hear over the phone, over those
two years, how committed he was to SGU, and how
So that was our serendipity. Who ever thought
that by writing a letter to an unknown veterinary
school in Grenada would impact my life so
dramatically? We are now married five years, and
I’ve retired my Park Ranger dream.
much he tried to provide the best information to
answer each student’s concerns.
By August 2001, my two best employees, Leah
Wulforst and Garrett Coleman, were flying to
Grenada to start as freshmen in the School of
Veterinary Medicine. I was ticketed to arrive in
October to visit with them after exams. I had to
see with my own eyes how they were progressing
and to see the University, a needless worry since
they proceeded to be straight A students all three
years, and are both now working on Long Island in
veterinary clinics.
Employing undergraduate vet hopefuls at my hospital, I was
always advising them about veterinary schools. When I read
44
That could have been the end of the story. Not too much
serendipity there.
in the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association
Then along came September 11, 2001, and everyone’s lives
(JAVMA) around 1999 about this new veterinary school. St.
were turned upside down. Leah’s uncle died in the towers and
George’s University in Grenada, and the appointment of Dr.
was never recovered. Another employee of mine, Kim Barlowe,
David Hogg as the new dean, I was curious about this school
who later graduated from the School of Veterinary Medicine,
that I hadn’t heard about. I wrote a letter to SGU inquiring about
was working that day with me at my veterinary hospital. Her Dad
their veterinary program and never gave it another thought. Two
was at JFK Airport scheduled to be flying out at that moment,
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and her brother worked in the towers, but survived. None of us
who lived that close to Manhattan will ever forget 9/11.
So how could something positive come out of that day?
Well, October came and I flew to Grenada, as scheduled, to
visit with Leah and Garrett. As it turned out, Bob Ryan was also
scheduled to be in Grenada to escort a large British group of
Painting the
Town Red
By Baldeep Chera
students interested in the Medical School. At the last minute,
the British group cancelled, due to fear of flying that close to
9/11. What happened next is the serendipity part. Since Bob
had some free time on his hands, we decided to go out for
dinner for the first time in Grenada at the Aquarium Restaurant.
And the rest is history.
So that was our serendipity. Who ever thought that by
writing a letter to an unknown veterinary school in Grenada
would impact my life so dramatically?
We are now married five years, and I’ve retired my Park
Ranger dream. Bob, with his prior abhorrence of cats, is now
the proud dad to five, yes, five cats; four of which he raised since
birth. Two of them provided him hours of stress relief following
Hurricane Ivan, when the Bay Shore office was open 24/7 for
The City
Working in the city has both pros and cons.
For some, it’s a brush with the high class life of 5th Avenue
And for others it’s a crowded train ride
From work to a Brooklyn brownstone.
It’s a place where friends meet to reminisce
And at any hour of any day,
Find occasion to paint the town red.
Baldeep is a student in the School of Medicine.
more than two weeks and Bob would come home and get right
back on the computer to try to monitor the situation, while
bottle-feeding two of our newest additions.
So our individual lives have been turned upside down, and
we are happily married, with our little furry family, after starting
out confirmed ‘single 1’ on our 1099 tax returns.
Dr. Rowan is an admission interviewer for the School of
Veterinary Medicine.
Mace 2012
45
Serendipitous Emotional Chords
By Shivayogi Bhusnurmath, MBBS, MD (Path), FAMS, FRCPath
Taylor, who himself had reached Grenada serendipitously and
made us envision the dream of building a great department of
pathology from scratch.
The 15 years at St. George’s University have been very
fulfilling and, using the theme of the current issue of Mace,
ikipedia reflects on serendipity
as a situation where someone finds
“Serendipity,” I will try to depict some of the emotional chords
that we developed serendipitously in our hearts. If one talks to
something they were not expecting
the anatomists, they claim that the four-chambered heart has
to find—usually a happy accident or a
only three connections—the arteries, veins and the nerves. We
pleasant surprise. Some classical examples are the discovery
all, as humans, know that there is indeed a fourth connection
of penicillin by Alexander Fleming, when he accidentally left
which the anatomists fail to demonstrate in the dissection but
a Petri dish growing Staphylococci open and discovered that
nevertheless does exist as a divine gift to all of us. The theme of
the mold that contaminated the Petri dish killed the bacteria.
Mace made me reflect over some of these connections among
Similarly, the discovery of Helicobacter pylori as a cause of
our students and colleagues. The characters shall remain
gastritis and peptic ulcer by Barry Marshall in Australia was due
nameless but they will perhaps recognize their own presence in
to the Easter holiday long weekend when the culture plates
the message if they chance to read it.
were left to incubate longer than the usual 48 hours and the
slow growing bacteria made their presence known.
My wife and I reached Grenada serendipitously due to a
In the very beginning of our sojourn at St. George’s University
we came across a charming young doctor who was working as a
clinical tutor. She was from a faraway country and had moved to
Grenada with her mother. Her brothers had moved
to the US. She had lost her father during her initial
The two were from totally different backgrounds,
years at the medical school in her country. She had
cultures, and languages, but met serendipitously
own country and in Barbados. She could not go
here in Grenada and are happily married.
He almost never became a doctor due to the illdoings of his roommate and the natural disasters
but had survived and moved on.
been denied the visa to the US several times in her
back to her country because of the constant strife
there. She was in some ways in a no-win situation.
Her smiling face, cheerful nature, and social values
attracted my wife, Dr. Bharti, and I to her. She and
her mother very soon became a family to us. She
filled, to some extent, the void we used to feel
for our own daughter who had moved to another
country to pursue her studies. This tutor flourished
in her work with the constant love and affection
of everyone in the department. She completed
chance reading of the job advertisement for a job at a medical
46
her tenure as a clinical tutor and was in a dilemma because of
journal. We were planning to quit our jobs in a university
the continued denial of visa which meant that she could not
hospital in the Middle East and relocate to India to start our
complete her USMLE exams. Dr. Bharti took it as a mission to
own practice in pathology. The decision to take the job was a
find a suitable career outlet for her. She kept discussing the
result of meeting with a great personality like the late Dr. Keith
topic with the visiting professors from North America who
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teach in our course. One of them who had come to know
the tutor through several visits stepped up to the plate and
offered her admission in the graduate course in pathology in
her department. This resulted in the tutor moving to Canada.
She excelled in the graduate course, winning research awards
and the hearts of her faculty there. Gradually, she moved on to
doing pathology residency there, courtesy the kind heart and
patronage of our visiting professor who is now her mentor. We
had the pleasure of attending her wedding in Canada. She and
her husband still make it a point to meet Dr. Bharti and I every
year and the bonds have only strengthened further.
Around the same time, we had a graduate of SGU from
another far off country working as a clinical tutor. He was known
for his tremendous sense of humor and loud reverberating
laughter. We still remember how the floor of the old “Chopsticks”
restaurant used to shake when he laughed. It was time for him
to leave and, when the school administration asked him whether
there was anything he would like changed in the department,
his response was: “Please leave it alone. It is the best managed
department.” All that we knew after he left Grenada was that
he was in the UK and, every Christmas, religiously, we got
a greeting card. A few years later, we reconnected. He was
pursuing training in pathology in the UK, which is an arduous
task that lasts over six years. He was very emotional when he
stated: “You and Dr. Bharti are my role models. You ignited a
spark in me to take up pathology. It is a fascinating discipline
and you made me realize how much I can enjoy it.” He made
it a point to meet me personally at London during one of my
transits just to thank me for the mentorship. He invited us to his
wedding but we could not make it to his country then due to
other commitments. He is now a full-fledged consultant in the
UK and says he owes it all to SGU.
The first student who touched me emotionally was a girl
who came to see me in my narrow office chamber in my old
pathology office of 1996. The office was about 5’ x 5’. She
was south-Asian but had dark blue eyes. I had just taught the
Neoplasia module to the class. She knocked, entered, and
asked if she could close the door. I was a bit perturbed because
I had heard instances of students suing faculty for sexual
harassment. I politely suggested that she keep the door open.
She immediately sensed what I was thinking and said “Don’t
worry Dr. Bhus, I am not that kind of person. I want to discuss
something personal and would prefer privacy.” Very reluctantly,
I relented. She closed the door and then told me her own story.
She had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer that had spread in
the body. She had received several modes of therapy. She had
many queries in her mind about her disease and my lectures
had clarified a lot of these questions. She had severe pain in
her legs because of the radiation-induced scarring that trapped
the nerves. I asked her about the blue eyes. She clarified that
they were contact lenses. I sensed that she was wearing a wig
but could not dare to ask. Once we got a little comfortable, I
asked her why she took up the medical education when she
was suffering so much. She replied that she had a feeling she
might not live long, but her goal in life was to become a doctor
and treat at least one patient before she dies. I used to observe
her closely in the teaching labs. She spent so much of her time
helping other students learn the material. On a later visit to the
US, we got to meet her parents and brother. She kept in touch
with occasional emails. A few years ago, she wrote that she
has completed two fellowships and has become an attending
(consultant) in pediatric oncology in a leading university in
the southern US. She had bought a home and extended an
invitation to Dr. Bharti and me to visit her. We had not been
able to visit her but praise be to God for blessing this girl with
life and fulfillment of her dreams despite the odds.
There was another student who had a life full of tragedies
during his stint with our medical school. His roommate was a
smart cookie from the UK who used to throw grand parties for
students and faculty, only to be found out after he disappeared
from the island and that the hefty bill was sent by the hotel to
the school. He had made extensive international calls on the
shared telephone in the room and left this student to pay the bill.
This student was in serious financial troubles already and had
a tough time convincing the school that it was his absconding
roommate that had run up the bill. He failed courses due to this
mental trauma and was up for dismissal a couple of times. He
was a sincere and honest student. He managed to complete the
basic sciences without getting dismissed. When he went back
to the US are some freak accident burnt his entire house. He
was a self-financed student working on his IT skills to generate
money for education. Fortunately, he met an ideal partner who
was his class fellow. She was a very kind and vivacious person.
She was the first student who used to stop by in the department
to chat with Dr. Bharti and I asking about our welfare in our new
employment and surroundings. She was crazy for Indian movies.
After their graduation he worked on his IT skills to support her
through her residency training. We had the pleasure of meeting
them again when they came to help us run the relocated
teaching program at Miami after the hurricane. She had, in the
meantime, managed to visit the “Bollywood” in Mumbai and
showed her photographs with leading actors during her visit.
The two were from totally different backgrounds, cultures, and
languages, but met serendipitously here in Grenada and are
Mace 2012
47
both of whom are physicians in the US, were very worried. She
bombed the midterm exam. Her parents asked her to pack up
and return. They got perturbed because she wouldn’t eat, go
out or show any sign of life. Her mother kept coaxing her to
start reading a little, which this girl refused to do. Gradually her
happily married. He almost never became a doctor due to the
ill-doings of his roommate and the natural disasters but had
survived and moved on.
I had the good fortune to be an advisor for the Indian
Cultural Students Association since its inception in 1996. Many
students touched one’s heart during this long association. One
left an indelible mark. She was the president of the association.
She developed a great group and put on a fantastic show. At
the end of the show, she called me on stage and I thought she
will give me a bouquet and ask me to make a small speech as
usual. I was surprised when she came and hugged me with tears
in her eyes. As if on cue, her organizing group also came and
hugged me. She was choked with emotions. Then she took the
microphone and whispered her story. She had suddenly lost her
father at the beginning of that very term when she had assumed
the mantle of the president. He was the main breadwinner at
home. Her mother had to start working to allow her brother and
sister to attain their college education. This student felt totally
shattered then. She had seriously thought of giving up the
school and the office because she could not possibly handle it
under the circumstances. She said that somehow, when she saw
me, she saw her father in me. She felt that she had to show it to
her father that she did not give up hope and she will work hard
in her life to please his soul. She dived deep into her studies
and the organization of the cultural show. She had not told even
her close friends about the calamity at home until the show
finished and she came on the stage to hug me. She revealed
her inner soul to the whole audience on that public platform.
I don’t suppose there was a single dry eye in the audience at
that moment. I felt it a personal honor for a student to see me
in that light. We had a chance subsequently to meet her mother
and siblings. She did very well in her studies and got a good
residency. She did invite us for her wedding a few years back. I
am amazed at her courage and sensibility.
One afternoon, I got a call from Dr. Bharti to walk over to her
office to meet a student. This was an unusual instance. As I was
walking towards her office I heard loud laughter and cheerful
exclamations of an excited girl emanating through the door.
When I walked in, I saw this vivacious chatterbox with a very
excited face. She was telling us how wonderful the pathology
course is and how she found a meaning to her medical education
finally. As we cooled her gradually, the whole story came
out. She had done average in most courses until she came to
pathology, managing by memorizing as much as she could. She
came into the pathology course the previous term. She could
not figure out how to study for the course, was very depressed,
withdrawn and became non-communicative. Her parents,
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mother succeeded in getting her slightly out of her depression
and eventually coaxed her to go back the next term to repeat
pathology. She arrived with trepidation, but when she read
the course syllabus again, something clicked in her mind. She
could figure out exactly what the study guidance described in
the syllabus meant. From that moment on, she started enjoying
the course, the labs and derived great pleasure in explaining to
the other students how to study. She said she could see things
crystal-clear now. She had decided that day to visit Dr. Bharti
in her office and tell her how she had transformed and how the
same information as the last term made so much more sense
to her this term. She had never met us before but her warmth
and pleasure were infective. Even our secretaries commented
that they had never met a more happy and boisterous student.
Needless to say, she aced the exam and continued the streak
in the subsequent courses. She was one of the first volunteers
for the India medical selective. She and the other three SGU
students reached the medical school in India two days before
Dr. Bharti arrived. She had gone to the pathology department
to meet the professor and asked her to ask the most difficult
pathology questions and that too in a clinical context. The
professor was shocked because, in India, no student goes to
the professor with such a request. However, the student could
easily answer all the so-called difficult questions asked by the
professor. The professor was surprised because she had not
been convinced that we could really teach pathology at SGU
in four months. It had a beneficial effect in that Dr. Bharti and I
are working closely with that department to help them improve
their teaching methods. This student will always be in our
memories. She calls us every week to chat and update us on her
progress in life.
During the same selective we had another surprise. One
of the students started crying on the podium when she was
asked to speak at the valedictory. We immediately got nervous.
She had already been through some turbulence because the
hosts had mistaken her to be a male based on her name and
given appropriate advice on dress code as well as the local
arrangements as if it was a boy. We thought that someone had
rubbed her the wrong way due to cultural differences. What
she stated subsequently came as a real surprise. She was
crying because she felt so emotionally touched. She was very
impressed by the quality of doctors, teaching, atmosphere at
the hospital, poor patients getting excellent care free of charge,
and the friendly hosts. The Vice Chancellor had stated that they
would be willing to treat anyone free of cost as well as take
care of their local stay and had advised our students to send
any patient they wanted who could not afford the treatment
at their place of residence. This student recounted the story
of her closest friend’s mother who is in the US and suffered
from breast cancer. She was not treated because she had no
insurance. Here was a Third World country with compassionate
doctors offering free treatment to anyone in the best facilities.
Incidentally, we got to know this student very closely during the
selective and subsequently. She is a very kind, humane person
with strong family values and culture consciousness. The
selective galvanized her studies and she has made tremendous
strides in her course grades subsequently.
We had one student several years ago who came to see me a
few weeks into the course when I taught Neoplasia. He told me
that he was diagnosed with a testicular tumor recently, which
was excised. He wanted to share his experience with the class
because he felt that a lot of students behaved as if diseases
affected only others and they themselves were immune. They
talked about patients as non-entities. I was a bit taken aback.
Most of us by nature want to hide our own frailties and diseases.
We thought it might turn out to be a good idea. He gave a
very nice presentation to the class on how he discovered he
had a problem, the mental agony and uncertainty, how he felt
about the surgery, showed the photos of the resected tumor
and histology. The class was stunned. Everyone felt a wakeup call. Very soon we had other students presenting their own
experiences with diseases. A girl who had an ovarian cyst showed
the pictures of the ultrasound, resected tumor and histology.
She explained the emotions she went through. The student with
testicular tumor started reading the pathology book rigorously.
He called it his bible. Unfortunately, during the course he was
discovered to have distant spread of the tumor. He took a leave
of absence and went away for treatment. He returned the next
term more committed than ever before to become a doctor. It
was a happy day for me to see him on his flight out of Grenada
after completing the basic sciences. He had developed a close
friendship with one of the girls in his class. They made a cute
couple. He is out there in the US practicing medicine.
A few terms later, we met another student in our class who
stood out with her extremely positive attitude, leadership
skills and ability to spend so much time helping other students
in the class. She was an extremely beautiful and charming
individual. She also aced her exams. When we were teaching
gastrointestinal pathology, she came and asked us if she could
share her personal experiences on the topic with the class. We
had set a precedent and so encouraged her move. What she
presented in the class was a real shock to us. She had multiple
problems like celiac disease, ulcerative colitis, and Crohn’s
disease because of which almost her entire gut had been
resected. She had to go to the toilet every so often because
she had no intestines left. She had to be very particular about
what she ate and drank. This had been going on for years. Yet
she was probably the most positive and hardworking student
we had come across in our life! She had so much energy to
teach and share. When she moved on to the next term, she took
time to come back and teach the next class with her personal
experiences. She was a born leader. We had to make some
major changes in the curriculum which were reflexively opposed
by the students in the class. She also had her apprehensions but
knew that we as deans and course directors would have some
solid academic reasons to introduce the change. She took the
leadership and initiative to bring her colleagues to the table
for discussions with us. Gradually she helped us introduce
the changes that have subsequently proven to be extremely
beneficial to the students of the school. If she was not around
then, the usual saga of the student leaders petitioning the
highest offices of the University for curricular matters would
have continued and diminished our ability to improve the
curriculum. When she went to the clinical years, she took time
to come back and advise the students in Grenada and assisted
in the curriculum development. Her mentors in the clinical years
have showered her with awards and are fighting to get her in to
their own residency programs.
The list of students who struck emotional chords is endless
and I have to stop lest the editor discard the manuscript for
being too lengthy. I close by alluding to another example of
serendipity in writing this article. I had been getting messages
by Mace to write but found no time or topic due to the busy
schedule. I was on a site visit for CAAM for another medical
school in the region. I got stranded and bumped off flights in
New York due to the “Shoctober” snowfall on October 30. I had
to spend a whole day the next day at the San Juan airport to
return to Grenada. I found the time and the inspiration to write
it. If I was not on the CAAM team, if it had not snowed so heavily
in New York, if the flights were not disrupted!
I am sure that many of my faculty colleagues have similar
experiences. Recording a few of these reminiscences about
emotional chords strung to our hearts through serendipity will
reflect what a joy it is to be a teacher!
Dr. Bhusnurmath is the Dean of Academic Affairs and Chair
of the Department of Pathology for St. George’s University
School of Medicine.
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49
A Lesson Learned
By Pauline Sims
Almost instantly, the first instructor was joined by another
who paired us as we made our way to the water’s edge. I
stood with amusement as I watched several little girls squeal
with mock anguish when the water’s coolness washed upon
their feet. I found no cause to follow suit and only grimaced
s a young girl, a dazzlingly incandescent
slightly upon contact. All and all, each child entered cautiously,
sky found me, my sister and a neighbor’s
and soon it became apparent that our bodies had become
child laughingly holding hands and
accustomed to the water’s temperature. It was then that we
scurrying across a nearly deserted village
were allowed to splash and play for several minutes while the
beach. Our considerate but observant guardian strolled
casually behind; ever so careful as to keep an attentive eye.
For several weeks, our directives consisted of a series of
Unrestricted toes welcomed the pleasure of moist warm sand,
exercises that gave us a sense of familiarity with the water, and
as a cool sea breeze caressed our faces, our minds raced
we loved it. My aquatic abilities were such that I made steady
excitingly with anticipated joy. For we were, to our delight,
but slow progress with arms outstretched and anchored to a
going to embark upon our first swimming lesson.
paddleboard while swiftly kicking my feet. I was able to hold
Slowing to a walk, I became instantly mesmerized by the
my breath with face down below the water’s surface, then
sights and sounds of waves lapping against the shoreline, while
warily floating for various distances. I was more than proud
high above sea gulls flapped, circled, glided, and screeched
regarding my efforts and beamed enthusiastically whenever
noisily. As my young companions bent to examine one of the
complimented by either or both dutiful coaches.
many alabaster seashells gracing the water’s edge, I gazed
In spite of my efforts, the last day of those lessons dramatically
off in the nearby distance at several off-duty teen lifeguards
altered my aquatic perspective. The traumatic event that took
leisurely preparing for the day’s activities. Even though they
place robbed me of a wealth of joyous exhilaration, and rapidly
were unknown to me, I smiled with childish delight and threw
ushered me toward a memory forever etched in my mind.
them a quick “hello” with the simple wave of a hand. As I
On the last day of lessons, we were told to swim out to a
watched intently, they gathered around a small transistor radio
not-too-distant pier. Fully aware of my non-existent swimming
laughing, talking, and clearly enjoying the rich melodies that
attributes, I knew this was indeed a feat I could not accomplish.
seemingly floated upon air.
While surveying the ominous wharf, I trembled inwardly and
“C’mon, let’s go,” my companions shouted as they raced
toward a frantically beckoning instructor who stood among a
brood of noisy, vibrant, swimsuit-clad children.
50
adults conversed.
it was at this point I began to question inwardly whether my
instructors actually were attuned to my abilities.
With head hung forlornly, I half-listened as my mind offered
When each child had quieted down, our first instruction
various scenes regarding any attempt by me to accomplish
came in the form of division. We were grouped by age, so
my worse misfortune. Once again, we were paired with our
subsequently I was separated from my sister and neighbor.
respective swimming buddy. However, regrettably on this
Since both were the same age, they were quickly placed among
day, my usual partner hadn’t shown up, thus I had no buddy to
those of the same maturity. I, at the ripe age of 8, stood in the
confide in nor pair up with. My buddy of course, swam as much
midst of several children who were quite unknown to me, but at
as I did, thus this was the very reason we had been paired. My
this point it didn’t matter. The only thought pushing itself to the
swimming buddy being absent didn’t help matters much and
forefront was: WHEN WERE WE GONNA PLUNGE OURSELVES
I stood apart from the others knees quaking uncontrollably.
INTO THOSE SHIMMERING WAVES!?!?!?!?!
Perhaps I reasoned, my buddy had had prior knowledge of
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this inescapable event and had subsequently chosen not to be
in attendance.
None the less, as the others began to inch closer to a takeoff point, I stood rigid and tensed as bewilderment overtook me.
As I faced impending doom, I suddenly felt a comforting hand
on my shoulder and was truly overwhelmed by the voice of the
Serendipity Blues,
Grenada
By Richard Blunt, DEd
young woman instructor. Bending low, she whispered in my ear,
“We do realize that you cannot swim, so you’ll be carried out to
the pier.” Breathing came easier for me then as I sighed audibly,
How did we opt to visit this land?
and confidence slowly snaking its way back to the surface.
Elusive enchantment of destiny’s wand?
When hoisted, I coiled my legs around the instructor’s waist,
arms around her neck as we steadily made our way toward our
Tropical forests, palm-fringed shores,
Magnificent reefs where the ocean roars.
destination. I felt so regal, being lifted high above my watery
peril, and with that realization I slightly relaxed my grip.
Then it happened; and for the life of me I don’t recall how in
There’s no comparing a night in Grenada,
Sorcery starts when the green flash is faded.
the world I suddenly found myself rapidly descending toward
True Blue happy hour—reason for sighs—
the bottom of the ocean. The instructor had let me go! Why!?!?!
Reflections in water from crimson skies.
Had she stumbled, misjudged her footing or perhaps stepped
onto an uneven part of the oceanic floor? I didn’t know; all I
Prickly Bay pizzas, rum punch lime,
knew was my security was no longer in place and I had been
Beach House chocolate with good red wine,
plunged into obscurity.
Callaloo soup and garlic toast;
With heart pounding wildly, I reminded myself that I had to
Fillet of swordfish on vegetable roast!
hold my breath even if my lungs felt as if they would burst. On
impulse, I opened my eyes quickly gauging my murky sphere
The lure of dancers gyrating in synch,
searching frantically for my protector. With every frenzied
Quivering hips, a seductive wink,
movement and amid tiny escaping air bubbles I looked in
Spanish guitars, gleaming steel pans,
desperation for the young woman whom I prayed was looking
What more could you ask of this gentle land?
for me.
Instinctively, I spread my arms, cupped my hands and
Caribs and cocktails flow like a dream,
repetitively pushed my arms downward while rapidly kicking my
The evening grows old, the moon seems to gleam,
feet. I don’t know how I knew to do this, but it aided in propelling
We wouldn’t surrender without a fight,
me upward. As my head broke the surface, hands seized me
But perhaps it’s time to call it a night.
and swished me into trembling arms. The instructor had finally
located me. I don’t recall how I got onto the pier or how I left
Dr. Blunt is deputy chair and director of faculty development and
it that day; however, both myself and the instructor learned a
professor of educational services in the Department of Educational
valuable lesson. Many things in life come unexpectedly.
Services.
Even now I can appreciate my mother’s words. “Life is
unpredictable,” she had said, and, “Promise me you’d never let
trepidation overtake you.” Whenever you are fearful, imagine
fear as being a huge stack of jagged rocks; one by one, pile
them high, doing whatever it takes to conquer the mountain
they’ve become. Never let anything stand in your way, always
embrace life and live it to the fullest, because tomorrow is never
promised.
Pauline is an assistant medical education liaison for Clinical
Studies.
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51
Flowers of
Grenada
By Stan K. Sujka, MD, FACS
transformed into sorrel tea.
Scattered among the yards in Grenada, are 6- to 7-foothigh bushes of Angel Trumpets. They stand guard with their
20-inch-long pendulous trumpet shaped flowers of yellow, pink,
came to the Island of Spice in 1978 dreaming of
to infuse the salty Caribbean air with the fragrance of fine
its people had magical powers. In Grenada, I fell in love
French perfume. Trying to seduce the night, they release their
for a lifetime with a woman I kissed on a long secluded
intoxicating aroma under the cloak of darkness. Brugmansias,
driveway with a symphony of stars serenading us. I lived with
as they are also known, contain an atropine-like substance. If
happy island people whose favorite phrase was “no problem,
ingested, the plant is known to be hallucinogenic.
mon.” Then I became enamored with the flowers of Grenada,
and my life was never the same.
Not to be outdone, the Plumeria infuses their fragrance into
the night air. Commonly known as Frangipani, this name comes
Growing up in Ohio, I had always enjoyed flowers, but I
from a 16th-century marquis who captured the flower scent in
had never seen such bold, bright, exotic flowers until I came
a perfume and named it after an Italian noble family. Its 1-inch
to Grenada. Then one day, I saw my future wife, Shari, taking
flower shaped like a five-blade ceiling fan, is believed in certain
pictures of some Bougainvillea and I took a deeper interest in
Asian folk cultures to provide shelter from ghosts and demons.
these God-given beauties. Before applying to medical school,
If the flower is placed over the woman’s right ear, it indicates
Shari intended to go to graduate school to study wild flowers
she is taken, and if it adores the left ear, it tells the world she is
in Moscow, Idaho. With her guidance, I started to appreciate
available.
flowers not only for their allure but for the stories they all told.
Ixora, or “Jungle Flame,” was one of my favorite shrubs in
Bright Bougainvillea, the official flower of Grenada, in red,
Grenada. Its convex cluster of brilliant red flowers, like needles
cream pink, orange, white, magenta, and purple; adorn walls,
on a small pillow, would soak up the sun. People would use
fences, and walkways of the Island’s homes. Their color is in
these plants as hedges. The flowers are a favorite playground
their leaves, or bracts, which are thin and papery. Their flowers,
of hummingbirds, bees, and butterflies. In juice form, it has
generally white and the size baby’s-breath, seem to smile and
been shown to have anti-inflammatory and haemostatic effect
say, “Touch me if you want, but there is a price to pay.” Not
in animals. Legend has it that this jungle geranium has been
only needle-like spears protect its beauty but the sap of the
associated with valor. In India, during the time of war, soldiers
bougainvillea will irritate your skin. The plant was discovered in
wore a garland of Ixora around their neck as a sign of bravery.
Rio de Janeiro and named after a ship Admiral.
This exotic-sounding plant belongs to the coffee family and has
The queen of the tropical island sun is the Hibiscus. Over 250
52
and orange. As if bowing to the sun, they hang down, waiting
becoming a doctor never, imagining that the island and
been a symbol of increased sexuality and passion.
varieties in a rainbow of colors, it was the ruby red Hibiscus that
The flowers in Grenada seemed to grow everywhere. I saw
stole my heart. Its pistil, like a tall and slender ballerina, dances
the Allameda or the Golden Trumpet flowers along roadside
in the center of this heavenly color. When the music of the sun
ditches, abandoned yards, as well as finally manicured yards.
stops and night falls, the petals wrap themselves around the
Discarded cuttings are quick to root, growing to a sprawling
dancer in a mournful embrace. Hibiscus flowers have adorned
shrub. The 2- to 3-inch yellow bell flowers send a delicate and
many a woman’s hair for centuries. Even when dried, the
fruity scent. All parts of the plant are poisonous. The flower
Hibiscus keeps on giving. It is eaten by the islanders because
acts as a laxative. The milky sap of the yellow Alameda also has
it is a natural diuretic. When it is brewed, the Hibiscus flower is
action against staphylococcal infections.
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CLOCKWISE FROM RIGHT: Angel Trumpets, Frangipani, Poinsettia, and Bougainvillea.
Before coming to Grenada, I had seen Poinsettia, or “The
Flower of the Holy Night,” every Christmas. The brilliant red
plant is highly toxic. Apparently it does not taste very good and
if ingested in large amount may only cause diarrhea.
color comes from photoperiodism, meaning it requires 12 hours
After living, loving, and getting my medical degree in
of darkness five days in a row to change color. At the same
Grenada, I went up north to finish my training. Not a day went
time, the plant needs a lot of sunshine during the day for its
by that I did not think about the island, its people, the sunshine,
brightest color. The flower is actually the small yellow cluster
and the flowers. The enchantment of Grenada drove me back
in the middle of a leaf bunch. Bracts refer to the red leaves
closer to the Equator, to the sun of the tropics, and to the
that emblaze the flower. The plant’s association with Christmas
flowers I loved so much. Now in Florida, my backyard is one
began in the 16th century. Legend has it that in the small village
giant bloom of Bougainvillea. Frangipani and Angel Trumpet
in the mountains of Mexico, a Padre asked Lucida’s mother to
herald the night with their scents. The Allameda and Ixora
weave a new blanket for the baby Jesus. The little girl’s mother
have died back, but I know they will return. December would
became sick and Lucida had no blanket offering. The child
not be the same without some Poinsettias in our yard. And the
realized that any gift is beautiful so she picked up some weeds,
Hibiscus, the Queen of the Tropic seems to wink and smile at
made bouquets out of them and placed them round the stable.
me in the morning as I go off to work. The flowers I grew to love
Then she lowered her head and prayed. Suddenly, some of the
in Grenada bloom in my yard as bright as the love I found on
leaves turned flaming red. The manger glowed and shimmered
that enchanted Island.
and the clumps of weed were transformed into beautiful
poinsettias. The star-shape pattern is said to symbolize the star
Dr. Sujka graduated from the School of Medicine in 1982 and is
of Bethlehem, and the red color the blood sacrifice through the
a urologic oncology surgeon with Orlando Urology Associates.
crucifixion of Jesus. An urban legend started in 1919 that the
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53
Grandpa
By Robert Blanc
“But in the reservoir, Grandpa. We drink
That water. And even brush our teeth with it.”
The child could not now know—one hopes
“Went skinny dipping in the reservoir?
I can’t believe that you did that, Grandpa.”
In later years he’ll come to understand
The conscience-wrecking alabaster skin
Of red-haired Anne—the dark, voluptuous Sue
A lazy summer afternoon we’d spent
Whose warm contralto laugh the hills sent back
In tasting Conrad’s zinfandel with figs—
Enlarged and amplified. And golden Paul.
Ripe, succulent, and sweet—and our judgment,
His satyr’s eye regarded each. The first,
Not great before, perhaps had dimmed a bit.
While driving home we found the humid heat
Of that June day oppressive—or perhaps
We sought excuse. The water drew us in.
From there the drinking water came. But it
We moved as if obeying some inborn
Was purified before it got to us,
Command—we four—in unison as if
And for good cause. Our neighbor, Blake,
A flight of mallards lighting on a pond.
Crept out on Sunday mornings with his rod
No word we spoke. We simply left the car
And flies to lure the firm-fleshed rainbow trout
Beside the road and clambered through the strands
Onto his breakfast table. That was banned
Of rusting wire, its once bright barbs gone dull,
And for good reason. It could harm the lake.”
Rock hopping down the hundred feet to reach
The blue and shining water’s cooling edge.
“It was not quite so bad a thing to do
As some might make it out. On that calm lake
“Remember in those days that reservoir
Drained into the San Pablo Lake. It was
“But swimming was much worse, and with no clothes!”
The rocky bank compounded our descent into the reservoir,
Demanding close attention lest we slip and twist a knee—
Sped noisily each day while calling out
Effectively preventing more than just a tantalizing glance
Their cadences. The damkeeper, I know,
Until, submerged neck deep, we could throw back our
The crews in fragile shells at 6 a.m.
or worse—
Used outboard motors when he made his rounds.
The oil that leaks from motorboats into
heads and share the joy
We took in this forbidden pleasure—thinking, too, of more
As we eased into ways of thought at odds with those we’d
The lake does untold harm to fish and birds.
In fact, a bit of human skin gives small
Offense, seen all in all.”
54
Fair Anne—and only then his wife.
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to come—
grown up with.
“We may have been less conscious of the hazards of disease. The risk
Of HIV was yet unknown. Giardia as well had not
Yet rendered all the water dangerous at higher altitudes.
We knew of cholera, of course, and typhoid, but we had vaccines
Against those killers of our ancestors. Smallpox was near extinct,
Eradicated by the efforts of good folk throughout the world.”
“Was Grandma there? In no way would she have done that!”
In fact, she would, and did, when other opportunities arose,
As that night we defied the law and trespassed in the local pool.
To aid our enterprise, scaling the eight foot barb topped woven fence,
We took a ladder and a rope. Climb to the top and rappel down
The farther side. The first were in the water when the last arrived.
Grandma, the last, paused, smiling, slender, stunning in the moon’s white light,
Then launched herself. All eyes were on her in her parabolic path.
“No, Grandma wasn’t there. She would have made a difference, no doubt.
She would have found it less than dignified to scramble down that slope.
And yes, she would have had the reservations you expressed today.
Your Grandma was a fetishist, almost, concerning cleanliness,
Including clutter in the house. She had less tolerance for that
Than anyone I ever knew. She was exceeding orderly.”
“But you, Grandpa, are never orderly. Why, at this moment you
Have mustard on your tie and magazines are strewn about your chair.”
At last I’ve found a subject to distract him from his questioning.
I don’t like telling children lies, and yet how else protect the dream,
The fantasy, the secrets, near-forgotten, of those youthful days?
There is no way to share the heady wine, the coolness of the lake,
The after-drying in the setting sun, the light embrace, the lips
So cool, inviting tasting, succulent, fresh as chilled champagne.
“Yes, Child, I do need help. Here, hand me those newspapers on the floor.
We’ll put them in this bag for recycling. Then shall we have a walk?
The bees are at the cherry blossoms and the breeze stirs tiny waves
Upon the pond. Let’s take a rod and see if we can tempt a trout
With bait. It just may be that we can have fresh fish for dinner later.
Tie up you boots so you don’t trip. We must be careful, after all.”
Robert is a visiting professor in the Department of Educational Services.
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55
Serendipity,
Bashrut, or the
Magic of Grenada
By Shari M. Yudenfreund-Sujka, MD
n the entering January 1979 class of SGU, I was
one of 14 women out of 134 medical students; quite a
statistic. That being said, the last thing I was looking for
was a husband. I was probably more concerned with
when the water or power would be coming back on since these
were more pressing issues at that time. Somehow though, I did
find a husband in Grenada.
I have often wondered how I could have been at a boyfriend’s
house in Grenada at the same time that Stan, my future husband,
would be there so that he would see me for the first time?
By the time I met Stan, I had already broken up with my
boyfriend back in the states and would date other students
Joseph Sujka, SGUSOM 2013; Jenni Sujka; Stan Sujka, MD,
SGUSOM 1982; Shari Yudenfreund-Sujka SGUSOM 1982; Emily
Sujka; Andrei Sujka; and Tigger.
every so often in Grenada. I remember sitting at the Sugar Mill
during my second semester after starting to date Stan, disco
beat pounding against the walls and Stan trying to explain to
me how he was born in Poland, Europe and grew up in Poland,
Ohio. I kept thinking that he must be kidding. How gullible did
he think I was?
We kept on studying together during the week and dancing
on Friday and Saturday nights. Later I also found out that Stan
had had a girlfriend back home who was a law student in Ohio
that he was engaged to, but that he had broken it off over the
summer break when she told him “marry me now or marry me
never.” I learned giving Stan ultimatums was not the way to go.
Then the magic of the island put a spell on us both. It didn’t
matter that he was Catholic and I was Jewish. It didn’t matter
have happened, especially back then when the world was a
much bigger place. Then I came across a Jewish concept called
bashert, which means a predestined soul mate where heaven
decides the match where two people are one in their past,
present, and future.
So was our finding each other in Grenada serendipity
(chance) or bashert (fate)? Will I ever know? It probably doesn’t
matter. The one thing I know for sure is that it was the magic of
Grenada with its flowers, ocean breezes, heavenly candelabra
of stars, and serenading tree frogs that brought two unlikely
soul mates together.
that we were from two different worlds or traditions, culture,
Dr. Yudenfreund-Sujka graduated from the School of Medicine
and language. To this day, I still find myself thinking, how could
in 1982.
I, someone who was born in Manhattan, grew up on Long
Island, and attended the smallest state college New York had
in Fredonia, NY, end up in, of all places, Grenada (which no one
back then had ever heard of), and meet my future husband?
Since our meeting 32 years ago, 28 years of marriage, four
children and a love that changes and grows stronger with each
56
passing moment, I have often pondered how such a thing could
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Appellation Mr.
By Rodney Croft
Surgeons therefore had to serve an apprenticeship, whilst
physicians spent four years at university, leading to a Bachelor
of Medicine degree and then a possible thesis leading to a
Doctorate. The Pope’s ruling also resulted in a great boost to
the barbers, who now performed dental extractions, fracture
uring last February’s Clinical Faculty
treatments as well as blood-letting. Owing to their increased
meetings in Grenada, the Chancellor, while
role, they became known as the barber-surgeons and monks
speaking to a group of people, referred to
then administered to the spiritual needs of patients.
me, “Mr. Rodney Croft” and then asked the
rhetorical question “why are surgeons in the UK referred to
At this time, true surgeons also developed. They were more
skilled than the barber-surgeons, but were apprenticed and
as Mister?” before moving on to the subject in question. As a
not university trained and therefore could not style themselves
British surgeon, I feel obliged to answer his question.
as “doctors.”
Academically in the UK, in order to have the appellation “Dr.”
In 1493, English surgeons decided to enter a working
one must hold a Doctorate degree, the highest postgraduate
agreement with the barber-surgeons and this association was
academic degree a University can bestow, such as Doctor of
given Royal assent when in 1540, Henry VIII, by Act of Parliament,
Philosophy, Music, Divinity, or Medicine. Whereas in the USA
united the two groups under the name of “Masters, Governors of
an MD is a licensing qualification to practice medicine, in the
the Mystery and Commonality of Barbers and Surgery of London.”
UK an MD is a postgraduate thesis degree, normally taken by
From this time, by Royal edict, the barbers could only perform
physicians. The equivalent in surgery is a master’s degree. In
barbery and extraction of teeth and the surgeons had to refrain
order to practise in the UK, medical students must attain a
from cutting hair and shaving people! King Henry VIII gave each
Bachelor of Medicine and a Bachelor of Surgery degree (MB
member of this newly formed group the right to be addressed as
BS). Therefore they are not in the strictest academic sense
“doctors”. However, once graduated, all graduates are referred
“Master” and in time “Master” was pronounced “Mr.”
So when a British surgeon is addressed as “Mr.,” he is
to as doctor, as are consultant and trainee physicians and other
actually being honoured, as in reality he is being called “Master.”
specialties; all except surgeons once they have obtained a
Female surgeons are called “Miss, Ms., or Mrs.”.
Fellowship of one of the Royal College of Surgeons.
The association of surgeons and barber-surgeons lasted until
The word “doctor” is derived from the Latin doctor-
1745, when the surgeons petitioned the English Parliament for a
oris, meaning teacher or instructor and, in Middle English
separation which lasts to this day. The barber-surgeons are now
(c. 1150–1500), it became used for any learned man or medical
represented by the Benevolent Barbers’ City Livery Company.
practitioner. The title “Mr.” is a 16th century English variant of
“Master,” derived from the Latin Magister meaning master or
teacher.
Following the fall of the Roman Empire, most surgery in
Mr. Croft is a consultant general and vascular surgeon in
London and is the Dean of Clinical Studies UK for St. George’s
University School of Medicine.
Europe was performed in monasteries by monks and their
assistants, the barbers. As well as cutting hair and shaving,
barbers helped with blood-letting.
In 1123 CE, Pope Calistas II decreed that monks must not
shed blood and it was this ruling that resulted in the teaching
of surgery being forbidden in church-dominated universities.
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57
A Veterinarian in a Medical School
By Satesh Bidaisee, DVM, MSPH
My primary academic responsibility is in fact with the School
of Medicine, Department of Public Health and Preventive
Medicine, and I have enjoyed my work in the medical school
and with medical students. In hindsight, I have always been
passionate about the One Health, One Medicine concept and
r. Bidaisee, hold on, I have a question to
have been afforded several opportunities at SGU to practice
ask you, I thought you were a doctor?”
One Health, One Medicine ranging from teaching, research,
This was the question I received from
community service and professional development. So the
a Term 2 medical student who hailed from
reality that I am a veterinarian in a School of Medicine was not
my home country of Trinidad and who I have known since his
an obvious one for me.
time in the Pre-Medical program, as I completed a lecture in
On reflection, I can recall an award given to me by our Public
Community Preventive Medicine for Term 2 medical students
Health Students Association, which noted that I thought that
in the Fall 2011 term.
life was an extended zoonotic infection. I am also aware that
“Well, I hold a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree,” was
my response.
among MPH students, I have the nickname “Mr. Zoonoses” so
there was always recognition by MPH students of my veterinary
training and contributions in the graduate public
health program. However, my mere presence in a
Maybe, this integration and collaboration is
School of Medicine I can understand is a daunting
exactly what is needed to begin to understand and
alluded to earlier but one I would admit may also be
manage many of the current and future health
challenges to human health especially with three
out of every four human patients having conditions
that is also relevant to veterinary medicine.
reality to the student who asked me the question
daunting to many.
As a faculty in the Department of Public
Health and Preventive Medicine, my areas of
teaching students include vector borne diseases,
environmental toxicology, emerging infectious
diseases, food borne diseases and other aspects
of veterinary public health. However, I never placed
myself as a veterinarian in my understanding of the
materials, in my preparations or delivery of lectures.
Even in the department where I work from, while it is
“Well, I always thought that you were a medical doctor as
known that I am a veterinarian, that fact does not change any of
I see you all the time presenting and working in the medical
the academic and scholarly work that is conducted. In fact, my
school and with medical students.”
research has channeled me in the area of occupational health
My altered posture was also complemented by the vocalized
“humm” and symbolic “light-bulb moment”; this was my moment
of serendipity. The realization is that I am a veterinarian in a
medical school. Heck, I am a veterinarian lecturing to medical
students. I have done this for the past couple of years but it
never really dawned on me before being asked the question.
58
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among nutmeg processing workers, abattoir workers and
health care workers, as well as activities including food safety
and control of infectious diseases. These activities while they
are specific to human health also include a significant veterinary
In the Early Hours
By Richard Blunt
application component. And, as I share with all graduate public
health students, medical students, veterinary students as well
as students in the School of Arts and Sciences, accordingly to
The early hours are saved for suffering’s worst,
the World Organization for Animal Health (OIE), 60 percent of all
The loneliness of hearing death’s light tread,
known infectious diseases for human are zoonotic (i.e. naturally
That walks the wards bestowing fickle dread,
transmitted between a vertebrate animal and a human) and in
All hope denied and failing comfort cursed.
the last 10 years, according to the World Health Organization
A woman groans, her anguished lips are pursed,
(WHO) more than 75 percent of all human diseases have an
An old man turns, his prayer for help unsaid,
animal source (which goes beyond the majority of infectious
An infant wails for breast, its mother dead—
diseases to include antibiotic/hormonal resides as well as
The nurses slumber on, their strength disbursed.
adverse interactions with all species of animals). And, if that is
not sufficient evidence that warrants for veterinary involvement
An owl’s hoot, its mate’s responding call,
in medical education, then I do not know what is. These realities
Then silence, waiting, pain pervades the room,
for human health does require for a collaborative approach
A soft release of breath and life is done.
between human and veterinary medicine which is the essence
The moon’s cold light is harsh upon the walls,
of the One Health, One Medicine concept.
No gentle word is spoken to the womb,
But, maybe, this integration and collaboration is exactly
The weave of life has passed, the web is spun.
what is needed to begin to understand and manage many
of the current and future health challenges to human health
Robert is a visiting professor in the Department of Educational
especially with three out of every four human patients having
Services.
conditions that is also relevant to veterinary medicine. At least,
at SGU, our students will have the opportunity to be exposed
to veterinary medicine in their medical school. So the next time
you encounter a faculty member at SGU’s School of Medicine,
you may very well be meeting a veterinarian as SGU continues
to lead the way forward by thinking beyond the concept of One
Health, One Medicine and practicing it.
Dr. Bidaisee is an assistant professor and deputy chair in
the School of Medicine’s Department of Public Health and
Preventive Medicine.
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59
Do Not Be Afraid
By Dr. Roger Lincoln Radix, MD, MPH, MIB, FRSPH
them to do unto us. I have since found that “what we do unto
others, we actually do unto ourselves.”
These special lessons have come to me, not in a sudden
enlightened moment of inspiration but have come to me in
slow installments, as I am not as fortunate as Newton, to be hit
ohn Clifton Radix, affectionately known
on the head with an apple. In any case, I would probably have
as “Doctor Dear,” was born in November 1904
eaten the apple and thought little of it. This is why I cannot claim
and died in December 1979. He taught me many
Newton’s “equal.” One of the lessons that I have learned and
things that a father should teach his son. He was
like to pass on is that we must manage our time. We often hear
a very effective teacher because he taught by his example. He
people say that we should not waste time or that time is money.
was my mentor and good friend and we shared many special
I do not think we can really waste time and time is certainly not
moments even as a young child when I accompanied him
money. It can be used to accumulate money if that is our aim
on house-calls, visited elder persons in the community and
and it certainly seems that time may be used in ways which we
listened with him to sports on the radio, especially cricket and
may not completely endorse. However, who is to say, what is the
boxing. We went to church together and went to his lands in St.
most appropriate use of another person’s time? The artist may
David’s to plant coconut trees. I remember traveling with him
appear to be daydreaming or wasting time until he comes up
through the St. Davids Parish on an election night to find out
with a beautiful poem or a remarkable bit of music.
how my uncle the “Darling Hero” was doing at the polls.
In managing time, I am particularly concerned with what I
My father, in his typically humble way of life, taught me that
call “fear of time.” The first aspect that I consider, in the fear of
all men are equal. I later found, to my surprise and amusement,
time, usually occurs when we are young. I remember that, as my
classmates and I were looking to leave secondary
school and move out into the big world, I was
The big lesson here is that we should make use of
certainly afraid of time. I wanted to be an engineer
and you could be qualified as such in three or four
available opportunities and use our time to do what
years. I also wanted to be a doctor but that took at
we need to do. Do not be afraid of the length of
When my friends were already working, I would still
time an important endeavor takes to complete.
rescue. He said he would not tell me what to do but
least six years. Could I afford to “waste two years”?
be studying. Fortunately, my father came to the
that if I studied medicine I would not regret it. I have
not regretted studying medicine but I believe that
if I studied engineering, I would not have regretted
however, that, as the saying goes, “some men are more equal
that either. The big lesson here is that we should make use of
than others.” He also taught me to believe in God, to care for
available opportunities and use our time to do what we need
family, and to treat all persons with the respect due to God’s
to do. Do not be afraid of the length of time an important
children. While I believe in the Almighty, I have learned that
endeavor takes to complete.
men do not have to believe in God to act in the way that he
60
A friend recently called me to say that she is thankful for
would like us to act and “to be our brother’s keeper.” My father
the advice I gave her four years ago. She was then considering
also told me that we should do unto others as we would like
changing her career and going back to school to study law. The
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advice I gave her was not magical and was actually quite simple.
laboratory. I am not advocating deliberately making mistakes
She was concerned about the four long years of time that these
but there is opportunity and learning to be gained in the most
studies would take. What I told her then was that the time will go
unfortunate circumstances. We only really make a mistake when
anyway. What could be decided at the moment was where she
we fail to learn from our own mistakes or the mistakes made by
would like to be and what she would like to achieve when that
others. We are never too young or old to learn and experience
time was gone. Young friends, do not be afraid of time. It will
new things. One cannot become a good teacher unless one is
pass by, whether you are sitting on the block doing
nothing, or whether you are engaged in something
more useful like artistic work, planting food for us
to eat, or engaging in an academic or other activity.
Enjoy your time but use it wisely—only you can
decide for yourself how you will do that.
Another aspect related to the fear of time
involves the age of technology and the instant
way of life which seems to affect many of us today.
This is not quite as clear but the rush to do things
instantly seems to be related to fear of losing time.
Why are we so anxious and bent on rushing to a
usually unknown destination? Should we not enjoy
the journey? There are other ways we can manage
our time. Slow down and enjoy things a bit. Don’t
be afraid of time. Time is our friend and teacher.
This problem appears to affect us whether we are
young or not so young. We are already growing
accustomed to fast food and faster Internet. This fast pace of
prepared to learn.
life is achieved at the expense of our health and our social and
So my friends, though I am no Newton, I would prescribe
family supports, since we seem to have difficulty fitting healthy
that you appreciate your family and respect and treat people
activities and relationships into our modern pace of life. Why
as you would like to be treated. Goodwill is very infectious and
are we so anxious and bent on rushing to a usually unknown
when you help others, you will help yourselves, your families
destination? Should we not enjoy the journey? There are other
and your communities. Manage and enjoy your time and do not
ways we can manage our time. Slow down and enjoy things a bit.
ever be afraid of time. Some things take more time than others
Don’t be afraid of time. Time is our friend and teacher.
but they are usually worth the wait. Slow down and enjoy your
As we get older, we encounter yet another aspect and find
health, your family and your friends. Finally, do not be afraid of
ourselves again becoming afraid of time. However, the question
mistakes, but learn from them. I cannot give a guarantee but
is now, should I take this course, or build this house or whatever
if you learn these lessons, you will likely live a long, happy and
activity we are considering. “After all,” we may say, “we are
productive life. These lessons have been revealed to me as the
already over 65 and have limited time left; does this really make
essence of life. I apologize if this does not fit the typical “Aha!”
sense?” I remember seeing an hotelier, well advanced in age,
moment but this is my serendipity.
building a new hotel, when everyone knew that he was not likely
to live long enough to enjoy it. But I had to admire the man.
Dr. Radix is an associate professor in the Department of Public
He was enjoying building the hotel rather than being alone at
Health and Preventative Medicine.
home, worrying about his arthritis or being depressed. Do not
worry how ridiculous your activity may seem to other people but
rather think what it does for your wellbeing. Before someone
takes me up on it though, I must admit that there could be
another side to that coin.
This final lesson I wish to promote both for the young and
not-so-young, also involves fear. This time it is fear of making a
mistake. Do not be too afraid of making mistakes. The only way
we can avoid mistakes is by doing nothing. But then, that is also
a mistake. Mistakes can often be the beginning of a new idea
or discovery as occurred when Fleming found penicillin in his
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61
“I Wouldn’t Change Anything!”
By Racher Croney
was first blind to us, for perfect vision brings clarity, and with a
‘rewind button,’ it brings opportunity.
The reality is that life gives us a second, and a third, and a
fourth chance so we are able to correct our ‘now’ and move
forward. This is why the notorious claim to the statement, “I
ost people say, “I won’t change
won’t change anything in my past because it’s made me who
anything in my life, for it has made me
I am,” is sadly misused as a pitiful excuse for justification. We
who I am today,” but what are the odds
won’t change the mistakes of the past because life gives us a
that this cliché is notoriously overrated
second chance, and you are given a chance to do it right the
and abused, giving a false sense of justification and security,
a statement used to absorb guilt and justify the unintelligent
second time.
Had it not been for second chances, however, I’m sure we
blunders made throughout life? Or this statement, “it
would all be paying our dues for a chance to rewind the hands of
happened for a reason, and because it did, I am wiser, a better
time and rewrite a chapter or two. Furthermore, I am convinced
person, and in a better place.”
that, even with the opportunity of a second chance, we would
But, of course, you would be wiser; the lesson is to learn from
prior mistakes, to circumvent repetition; after all, if we aren’t
wiser, we would have learnt nothing. But is it really justifiable to
say, “I won’t change anything?”
still pay to right the wrongs if we could, despite our claim to the
words, “I won’t change a thing.”
Nevertheless, with experience as the greatest teacher, say
this: “I choose to go forward rather than backward. I choose to
Pragmatically, nobody wants to learn a lesson the hard way,
let the past be, and embrace my ‘now’ towards a bright future.
especially if we had to fall really hard to see the big picture.
I choose to accept and love the person that I am today, having
Just as the laws of arithmetic assure the addition of one plus
been led somehow to a point I had not foreseen. In this journey,
one equates a sum of two, likewise will the circumstances and
I am thankful, and blessed beyond measure to have reached to
situations we endure, shape and contribute to the people we are
this point where I now stand.
today. Whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, indirectly
“Had it not been for the past mistakes and a lifetime of God-
or not, the things we do and say are inadvertently shaped by
given grace and chances, I would definitely want to erase the
some of life’s hardest choices, situations, experiences, and yes
blotches, eliminate the blunders, and confiscate the mishaps to
mistakes.
rewrite the story of my life chapter by chapter”—Serendipity
Life is a learning process and a lesson in and of itself, which
we often learn by falling first. I guess this gives credit to the
notion that we have to crawl before we walk, and even then the
falls are inevitable. Something to note is that even after we have
mastered the technique of walking, we still fall!
Since we all detest the idea of falling and paying penny to
the subsequent consequences derived, it is for this reason, if
given a second chance human nature demands that we step
correctly to avoid landing flat on our faces a second time. So
yes. If given a second chance there are things that we all would
change! With clear vision, we will rewind and make right what
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Ebbing/receding
By Donella Hosten Lindsay Puckett
No
Do something
Something for the pain
I page the nurse
Pain
Take a big deep breath
His penetrating glances
Return
Searching for comfort
Asking for help
Bitterness
I offer words
Into a crescendo
(Words are what I have)
I return to raised voices and a battery of
“I will try to get you something”
He is clearly in pain
accusations
Help me
I am just the student
You were supposed to help me
I can’t
Trying hard to stay calm against the
I’m not your doctor
storm of his words
I know
She will give you more medication
You are in pain.
Feel better
I’m sorry.
Anger
(It feels like retreating)
Jagged, angry words
Soon
Cutting at me, my “help,” my profession
She’ll be here soon
I’m sorry
I’m helpless
Patient
(Useless)
Difficult patient
He’s not bad, just in pain
Pain-seeking patient
Just in pain
Frustration clangs out into the hallway
I want to help
Into my ears
want to do something
I do not want to go back
And I’m sorry
For pain
Empathy
The doctor is gone
Empathy
His nurse is missing
Stay invested
Maybe we are both incapacitated
Return
I’m told
Don’t waste your time.
I’m sorry.
It sounds hollow
I want it to be true
It is too long to wait
It’s true
He’s right
Right
His words are like cold water
I’m trying
I’m tiring
Help him
Help
Author Note: This poem is a somewhat
ironic take on serendipity. It shows how
life can take unexpected turns and
change our thinking
Donella is a student in the School of
Medicine.
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63
Seeds of Great
By Leonard Joachim, MD
In 1922, Alexander Fleming, in the middle of his cold
symptoms, sneezed accidentally into a Petri dish full of bacteria.
This led to his curiosity, later conferred the so-called “Active
Principle”—”lysozyme”—the antibacterial protein found in
tears and mucus. This lead further to the discovery of penicillin
t began with the “Three Princes of Serendip” (now Sri
in 1928, which won him a Nobel Prize in 1945. He said in
Lanka) who traveled around the world and encountered
response to this acclaim, “Nature makes penicillin, I just found
discoveries by accident, sagacity, and heuristic learning.
it; one sometimes finds what one is not looking for.”
Then the word serendipity was born in the lexicon by
Horace Walpole in 1754.
Being in the right place at the right time, laden with
manifestation of inspiration, paves the way for the chances in
My current life’s fortune of serendipitous gift of my creator is
life. Shakespeare said it best in Julius Caesar, when Brutus said
my three sons (Zachary, Noah, and Jeremy). Reflecting back as
to Cassius, “There is a tide in the affair of men, which, taken at
to other perspectives, my admission was an unexpected gift to
the flood, leads on to fortune.”
start at St. George’s University as a third class, since the school’s
On the other hand, the skeptic in me wonders, with a
inception in January 1977, indeed. As with family life, finding
perspective of nature’s order of things executed so flawlessly
the spouse was in accordance with Julius Comroe’s quote:
for so many years, spinning in space, balancing all things that
“Serendipity is jumping into a haystack to search for a needle
matter, serendipity is perhaps for those who are hermetically
and coming up with the farmer’s daughter.”
sealed against new ideas, refuse to live mindfully before dying
“Chance favors the prepared mind,” said Pasteur.
sufficiently examined life. Things appear not abiding more than
“Seeds of great, floating around us, only take root in minds
at times, but all things flow as though preordained, as though it
well-prepared to receive them,” said Joseph Henry of The
was written. Therefore, it must be for the insufficiently prepared
Smithsonian Institute.
mind, events of wonder appear serendipitous. If so, then, he who
At the end of the 19th century, Wilhelm Roentgen noticed
encounters serendipity after all just reached the sufficiency to
out of the corner of his eye, several feet away in the darkness, a
cause such discovery, just not readily apparent to the distracted
piece of glowing barium cyanoplatinate-coated paper, without
multitasking mind. On the other hand, such a flawed not always
a source of light anywhere, which resulted in the birth/discovery
focused mind is what enjoys, marvels the joy of serendipity.
of X-rays in 1895.
A youngster, Cyril Astley Clarke, was sent to the English
countryside so as to be out of harm’s way during World War I.
There began the birth of a lifelong fascination with butterflies.
Despite later becoming a physician, he kept up his interest in
the inheritance of butterfly wing patterns, which later lead to an
understanding of the “ABO” blood-group and the development
of an injectable antibody inhibitor (RHOGAM) for Rh disease in
newborns.
The successful birth of Viagra was due to a failure in its anginal
treatment. Its serendipitously encountered epiphenomenon was
well-welcomed by the trial subjects of Pfizer Pharmaceuticals
that led to it s current indication of treatment.
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Dr. Joachim graduated from the School of Medicine in 1982.
What a Wonderful Educational
Experience
By Owen (Stan) Parker, MD
in to! Then, out of nowhere, I heard the sweetest Texan drawl
call out, “Hey, are you going to the medical school in Grenada?”
I turned around and found another Texan (in boots and jeans)
who I ended up rooming with that first year, Clint Mallory.
Subsequently, I teamed up with a guitar player from New
was a biologist, medical technologist, and grad
Jersey, Tim Droney, then Jeff Wartman. What great times I had
student at a little university deep in south Texas, looking
snorkeling with these adventurers!
for a medical school. I drove across northern Mexico to
Matamoras, Monterrey, and Tampico, but those schools
At graduation in 1983, our class reassembled at the United
Nations center after two years apart for clinicals. It was wonderful
looked suspect. I flew over to Ireland to visit Dublin and
to see these classmates again! I remember well Janet’s smile
Galway, but just could not tolerate the cold, damp, and “black
and her words: “You are the valedictorian!”—Tim, Jeff, and I
raincoats and umbrellas.”
had roomed at Janet’s home in St. Vincent.
The day I returned from Ireland, one of my buddies gave
So, one of these pictures is Chancellor Modica and me with
me his good news: He had been accepted to an osteopathic
my “Chancellor’s Award for Academic Excellence” plaque. The
school and wondered if I wanted the pamphlet of a Caribbean
other picture is of my roommates (Jeff and Tim) and me.
school that he was no longer considering. It was a simple little
Thanks to St. George’s University, Tim Droney, Jeff Wartman,
pamphlet, but its cover pictured the sun and a palm tree. Gee,
Clint Mallory, Chancellor Modica, all the great faculty and
after 10 days of shivering in Ireland (in November), I was really
administrators, my landlords down there (Art and Lillian Dawson
interested in sunshine and palm trees!
of Toronto), my wife, and those experiences at Texas A&I
So, I applied and was accepted. I packed up 11 years of
University that so well prepared me to continue my scientific
books, files, and experiences gathered during my study at the
study. God bless my wonderful parents who instilled a work
south Texas university, parked my little Honda in my parent’s
ethic that continues today.
garage, and flew off into the unknown.
That first day in the Barbados airport, I walked (and pulled) my
Dr. Parker graduated from the School of Medicine in 1983.
bags over the runway and wondered what I had gotten myself
Left: Graduation with Chancellor Modica; Right: My roommates and I: Jeff Wartman (left) and Timothy Droney (center)
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65
Her Name
By William Tancredi
Laboratory when I saw the four puppies bouncing at the end
of four leashes. Actually, three were bouncing; the smallest was
cowering at the sneaker of she who held the leashes. Being a
conscientious and concerned veterinary student, I wanted to
play with the puppies.
here were four small black pothound
puppies found in L’Anse Aux Epines storm drain by
a middle-aged couple late last summer. They called
the veterinary student in charge of “Pothounds
Against Pregnancy.” The student was able to coax three of
I reached for the smallest and cowering puppy who, upon
seeing my hand gently reaching for her, tried so hard to get
away that she flipped herself over backwards. Just call me the
“dog whisperer.”
I picked up the littlest dog despite her efforts to get away.
the puppies out of the drain, but one particularly terrified
She struggled and squirmed until I flipped her on her back into
puppy ran to the other end of the pipe to escape. The
the crook of my left arm, when she suddenly relaxed. I scratched
veterinary student, not easily deterred from rescue efforts,
her belly with my other hand and she wrapped her front legs
crawled down the storm drain to save the smallest of the four
around my forearm and went to sleep. It would not be until later
that I realized I had been adopted.
She proceeded to take a lap of my lap, settle herself
down, set her head on the desk, and go to sleep.
This time I did realize that I had been adopted.
The softening of my countenance was so
swift and striking that an observant, if not
subtle, friend of my mine asked, “What are you
going to name her?”
“No,” I said, “I can’t take care of a dog right
now.” My friend, with the talent for tact, looked
at the student with the leashes and said, “We’ll
work on it.”
puppies. I would later learn from the middle-aged couple
that the smallest puppy was so weak from exposure that the
need of homes were brought to the classroom in the Veterinary
veterinarian did not think she would survive the night in the
Surgical Laboratory. A practice that has since become verboten,
Veterinary Teaching Hospital, and certainly would not have in
the pups were to be dangled (not literally) in front of the veterinary
the storm drain.
students again. I was handed the smallest one once more.
As she has done so many times before and since, the
She proceeded to take a lap on my lap, settle herself down,
veterinary student in charge of PAP took care of the four rescued
set her head on the desk, and go to sleep. This time I did realize
puppies. They had not yet been given names. The smallest and
that I had been adopted.
meekest puppy had run from the rescue efforts and been a few
My ever-subtle friend was seated next to me at the time and
hours away from death that day. That pothound had a jet-black
laughed out loud when she asked, “So what are you going to
coat, big floppy ears and weighed a little over 8 pounds.
name her?”
The four puppies were, once cleaned up and nursed to health,
adorable even by puppy standards. At the earliest convenience,
the pups were brought to campus to be fostered and, inevitably,
adopted by other veterinary students.
I was on the bagel truck side of the Veterinary Surgical
66
Two days later, the three black pothound puppies still in
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Always one to admit when I am defeated, I said, “No, I can’t
take care of a dog right now.”
I adopted the puppy from a classmate who was fostering
her. The classmate was unsure as to whether or not she would
keep the pup permanently. Potential and possibility gave way
to kinetics and certainty and I took charge of the care of the
smallest black pothound.
I started to think of a name for her. Words and their meanings
are of great and maudlin importance to me. She needed the
Today I laughed
By Racher Croney
right name. I started off with human names, but the names did
not fit and got bad reviews from friends.
I researched St. George of Lydda, the namesake of our
university. Lydda was a positively terrible name. I considered
naming her Georgia but I am a devout Phillies fan and viscerally
despise the Atlanta Braves. Saint George had saved Silene
from a dragon—whether Silene was a town or a girl depends
on which legend you read—and the little pup was very nearly
named Silene. But I decided that the root was a little arcane for
Today I laughed, yesterday I cried, tomorrow I can’t deny.
My destiny’s unknown, but my heart’s desire remains a dream
each night.
Oh to bask in sheer pleasure and glee with laughter and joy a
daily insight.
If only to replace my tear-filled days with joy and hope, oh what
divine delight.
even my exceptionally nerdy tendencies.
There is a legend about the mountain that stands next to
To laugh I long, to be happy I crave
Beaver Stadium in State College, Pennsylvania. Nit-A-Nee was
To rejoice I taste, for victory I know is but a day away
a Native American princess whose lover, Lion’s Paw, was killed
Tomorrow I will remember the dusky roads I’ve trod, the hills
in battle protecting the tribe. The princess carried the warrior’s
body to the center of the valley and built a burial mound high
and sturdy. The mound grew to a mountain and the mountain
would protect Happy Valley forever. The name “Nit-A-Nee”
I’ve climbed
The walls I’ve jumped and the ocean I’ve swam, to bring me
to today
The day I laughed.
means “barrier against the wind.” The legend of the princess
would be the namesake for Mount Nittany and for Penn State’s
Racher is a staff writer for the Office of University Communications
Nittany Lions.
and Publications.
The littlest black pothound is no longer the littlest; she
outweighs two of her siblings by at least eight pounds. She no
longer has floppy ears; they stand straight up to create a profile
that could summon a costumed Bruce Wayne. She no longer
cowers when I reach for her; instead she leans heavily into my
hand so I will scratch her ears a little bit harder. She is no longer
nameless; she answers to the sound of my whistle, that of the
refrigerator door, and any number of interjections. She answers
to the name of a mythical princess, a mountain, and a football
team. I named her “Nittany.”
William is a student in the School of Veterinary Medicine
pursuing an DVM degree.
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67
Death
Announcement
By Joshua Yetman and Alyssa Bierzynski
well-known natural landmark—
the giant silk cotton tree in Willis—has
succumbed to years of wear, collapsing
onto the roadway in early March 2011. Once
standing firm along the way to Annandale Falls, the ancient
silk cotton tree had been a popular wayside rest for visitors
and a prominent character in Caribbean folklore. As soon as I
saw the news, I messaged a friend of mine who was studying
abroad in Washington, DC.
Me: I’m going to make a photoblog entry for it.
Alyssa: You have to talk about La Diablesse.
Me: Be a guest writer on my photoblog fuh mi nah. A proper
death announcement.
Alyssa: lol ok. What kind of obituary are u looking for?
Me: A playful one! With local folklore or personal experience,
if you so wish.
Alyssa: Unfortunately I’ve never had to run past that tree at
night but I know boys who have! I’ll sleep on it…and dream up
something.
Willis, Grenada (Photo taken November 28, 2009)
Written by Alyssa Bierzynski: “When I was little, Mummy
used to tell me stories about La Diablesse, Soucouyant, and
Loupgarou to keep me in line. When I was rude, she’d tell me that
and didn’t move. I wasn’t about to let any Loupgarou know I was
the La Diablesse was going to take me away. If I didn’t wash the
there.”
dishes or make my bed, La Diablesse again. I didn’t stay outside
Staying connected to the whereabouts of families and friends
in the dark in case a Loupgarou was flying around searching for
also includes keeping abreast of “who dead,” often through
its next victim. I was terrified by them, the Loupgarou and La
radio broadcast and televised death announcements. All
Diablesse, but I really wanted to set a trap for a Loupgarou. But
across the Caribbean, the bulletin-board-style announcements
the thought of lix I would get when Mummy discovered half her
are usually scheduled to air immediately before the evening
bottle of salt in a pile on the floor was more frightening than any
news begins. A typical death announcement is quite detailed—
Loupgaroud, so I quickly abandoned the idea.
68
listing the departed’s proper name, their aliases, long lists of
At the centre of all these stories were always a silk cotton tree,
surviving family/friends and their geographic locations, who is
and the only silk cotton tree I knew was that huge one on the way
arranging the funeral, and the date and place of the upcoming
to Annandale in Willis. Every time we drove by I held my breath
burial. In honor of this ancient community member, I present to
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you a proper Grenadian death announcement—also written by
Alyssa Bierzynski:
they were going to fall over the precipice.
The funeral of the late Silk Cotton Tree will take place on
“We announce the death of Silk Cotton Tree a.k.a “Silk and
Thursday 17th March at 2 pm at the Garden of Remembrance
Very Big Tree and Silkie” who resided on the edge of the road
Funeral Chapel. A private cremation for the family will follow at
at the entrance to Willis, St. George, born 17th September 1781
midnight. Funeral arrangements have been entrusted to La Qua
and died March 5th 2011 at the age of 230. Left to mourn are the
Brothers Funeral Home.”
spirits and their families who resided in Silk Cotton Tree’s trunk,
including the La Diablesse family of Willis, the Loupgarou family
Joshua is a photographer for the Office of University
of River Road, and the Duppy family. Other relatives and friends
Communications and Publications. Alyssa graduated from the
include the people of Willis and the surrounding areas who were
School of Arts and Sciences in 2008.
so afraid they ran past Silk Cotton Tree at night, and anyone else
who has gotten stuck in a traffic jam in front of it and thought
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69
Oh, The Good Old Days!
By Karla Hood
worst yet! For those of you with weak stomachs, beware. The
worst part is that I get chopped up into pieces before I am sent
on my way and then reassembled when I arrive! Imagine the
pain and the horror I experience about 294 billion times a day!
How I miss the old days!
h, how I miss those days! Those days
Again, they try to fool me into thinking that my new name means
Ah, the good old days when quills, reed pens,
the same as my old. I’ve even heard them say that converting to
fountain pens, ballpoint pens and sometimes
this electronic medium is a much better way of life, but I am not
pencils were used to lay me across sheets of
easily fooled. I know the difference and the great void that this
paper! The delicate and exquisite handwritings, the not-so-
change has created. I used to be called “mail” or “letters,” but
legible ones, the smell of the ink and lead each and every
now I have been reborn, so to speak, and renamed “electronic
time I was born; oh my how I miss those days! I remember the
mail” or “email.”
smells, the sounds, the sights, and the people I was sure to
see as I made my journey from my author to my receiver. I can
I wish this could be the end of my woes and that I could
just try to adjust to this new world that I have been trapped in.
still smell those crisp white envelopes with their blue and red
Unfortunately, this is not the end. It only gets worse from here
stripes all around. Mmmm, those were my favorite! The glue,
on out. My struggle to be seen and appreciated has become
the stamps, the mailbox, mailroom, and even the mailman, all
more difficult as time has progressed. I’ve now been caught in
these sights and smells will haunt my memory forever. Those
this downward spiral, in this dark world called “spam.” Spam?
were fun times. I saw the world as I traveled to my destination,
you might ask. Yes, spam, but it isn’t canned meat, although I
witnessing many things along the way. Oh, how I miss those
feel like that at times. Rather it is when I am exploited to relay
days!
“unsolicited and undesired electronic messages,” which is just a
Things have changed now. I no longer see the world, no
smart way of saying that I am being sent to people who never
longer smell anything, and no longer hear anything. OK let
asked for me and who do not want me. I now fill their “inboxes”
me be fair. I do still see, smell and hear but it’s nothing like my
with “junk mail” and get deleted in bulk. This hurts so much and
old life. Now I am trapped. I’m trapped in this electronic world,
I can’t help but think of the days when I was only sent to relay
this world where all I am is a bunch of zeros and ones. Zeros
messages of joy or sorrow, days when I was wanted, days when
and ones? Urgh! I try not to think about it because the thought
people were excited to receive me. Now people don’t even
makes me miss the old days even more. My authors now sit at a
bother to open me to see what I might contain. I am “deleted”
machine and type words onto electronic sheets of paper. How
and flushed from existence before I even get a chance! Please
impersonal! It’s an outrage! They try to fool me into thinking
bring me back the good old days!
that I am back in the old world by using something called
The people who exploit me try to justify their actions by
“fonts.” Oh, the nerve of these people! They think that I would
saying that this is a cheap way of moving me around. They no
not know the difference but the sad thing is that I do and it hurts
every single time.
Traveling happens so fast now! Before I realize what’s
happening, I’ve arrived in France or Australia or even Grenada.
Lightning-fast fingers type me onto these sheets and, with a
click, I’m whooshed off to my destination. But that’s not the
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Then to add insult to injury, my name has been changed!
when people would take time to create me!
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longer need to spend money on paper, ink, envelopes, and
stamps. They can send messages to billions of people with only
a click rather than taking the time to carefully lay me on paper.
I must say that I agree with them on that one thing and that
one thing only, but I ask this question “is the pain and suffering
they have caused me and the people who receive me really
Hopeless in
Grenada
Stan K. Sujka, MD, FACS, ’82
worth it?” These so-called clever people again try to fool me by
saying that if one of every 100,000 persons actually read me and
subsequently buy their products it would be worthwhile. Again,
I’ve left that place
they don’t have me fooled. I am smarter than they think.
“Phil and the Boys House” in L’Anse Aux Epines
These “smart people” have failed to realize that I am what
My heart is pounding. Hey, what’s going on?
is written and so I have learned from the best over the years. I
Not the five miles I’ve just run with Jim,
have met and learned from great men, men like Immanuel Kant,
I’ve done that before.
Jeremy Bentham, John Stuart Mill, Thomas Hobbes and Jean-
Not the island heat; it’s always hot in Grenada.
Jacques Rousseau who have made significant contributions to
It must be her.
the field of ethics and whose theories on ethical behavior have
There, sitting on the kitchen counter, she made me gasp for air.
been adopted for centuries. It is Kant’s second Categorical
Her red hair flowed over her white dress, down to her Dimples
Imperative that resonates most in this situation. This imperative
of Venus.
urges us to “Act so that you always treat both yourself and other
Her pale skin was lightly sprinkled with cinnamon freckles.
people as ends in themselves, and never only as a means to an
Then she smiled, the island seemed to shake as if Grand Etang
end.” These words of wisdom reassures me that my views on the
way myself and my recipients are treated are morally wrong and
so I urge my creators to stop and please, please, please bring
crater was coming to life.
She was admiring another, a California tan guy, with eyes I was
wishing were meant for me.
back the good old days!
But conceited, clueless, or maybe just a fool, he was not
Karla is a student in the School of Arts and Sciences pursuing a
I found myself staring, trying not to be obvious, but praying
looking at her.
degree in information technology.
she would catch my gaze.
Then she laughed, and my mind seemed to fill with double
References
Spam. (2011). Wikipedia. Retrieved July 17, 2011, from http://
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spam
Tschabitscher, Heinz. (n.d.). How many emails are sent every
rainbows.
Oh, no! Now she’s there and I must leave.
I have no kiss, no embrace, no souvenir, but
A head full of memory
day. Retrieved July 17th, 2011, from http://email.about.com/
Void of all but a vision of her,
od/emailtrivia/f/emails_per_day.htm
An angel seated on a counter
Pen. (2011). Wikipedia. Retrieved July 17, 2011, from http://
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pen
Quinn, M.J. (2008). Ethics for the information age. Pearson
In the kitchen of another and no pathway
Of how her love might be won.
Is there any hope for me?
Addison Wesley.
Dr. Sujka graduated from the School of Medicine in 1982 and is
a urologic oncology surgeon with Orlando Urology Associates.
Mace 2012
71
Basically, We’re Complicated: How SGU
students fail to take the easy way
By Angelo Sica
begrudgingly. Eat lunch, and again—yes seriously—it’s another
Subway sandwich. Study in Taylor until midnight, how typical.
While you are waiting for a bus you aren’t even sure is coming,
in the rain, you ask yourself “why?” At this point, sleep never
sounded like such a luxury.
asically, we are complicated.
Among all walks of life and flavors of
What is so great about the shared SGU struggle, though, is
what makes it all WORTHWHILE.
diversity, there lie certain commonalities that
The hours we spend in the library and reading texts ENRICHES
all SGU students share: We all have a hard
us and allows us a unique, more holistic understanding of the
time taking the easy way.
natural world. It’s interesting though because it’s somewhat
CLEARLY, that’s the reason we’re all pursuing medicine and
scary how we have no fear. We demand sensory and cerebral
paths of career initiation. Regardless of history and personal
input. Intellectual stimulation with a side of Coke, please?
acumen, what is truly admirable about the always-intriguing,
Complexity aside, we strive, better yet DEMAND, to learn
ever-frustrating Grenadian sub-community at True Blue, is the
new information. Even when Sakai habitually fails to load, our
shared desire to live a destiny yet unfulfilled.
rigors do not cease. It is so ingrained in us to be inundated with
Taking the leap of faith and travelling to Grenada is only part
lectures that we even create an arbitrary hierarchy of professors
of the clinical profile and psyche of an SGU student. The very
who lecture well, and those we can afford skipping. All the more
real human condition and motivation to live for more, to live
fascinated, we become hooked in a never-ending cycle of new
a life committed to serving others, is what burdens us. Call it
study material; only to be synthesized at a later time you wish
“Go-Getter-itis.” By whatever name, it makes us NEVER content
in the here and now; especially when there is the world awaiting
practical solutions, pathology problems that need to be solved,
and lectures upon lectures that never seem to end.
never came.
The ETIOLOGY of the SGU students’ complications fall into
one overarching manifestation:
It’s DEEP how we can all be so SHALLOW.
Our lives become consumed by quizzes, exams,
Regardless of history and personal acumen, what is
truly admirable about the always-intriguing, ever-
and assessments. Preoccupied with ideas on how
to be a better student and how to achieve higher
marks dominate our existence. Rational to a fault,
we fail to acknowledge others’ respective paths of
self-exploration. Intentionally, cognitively narrowing
frustrating Grenadian sub-community at True Blue,
our thoughts limit our abstract theory of mind.1 We
is the shared desire to live a destiny yet unfulfilled.
time for our minds to wonder, chop-it-up with fellow
unfortunately become sterile in thought, with little
students over beers, or simply RELAX. This will no
doubt serve utile in creating an efficient robot-
This affliction’s most unfortunate symptom is our high
72
student; however, in the greater scheme of an evolving world,
tolerance for the ever-so-monotonous. Days on campus
nobody wants to have a doctor or businessman completely by
become far too calculated and predicted. Energy is spent living
the book, devoid of engaging emotions and vitality. It is for this
a life that is continuous, rarely changing, tragically consistent
reason Bananas is so appealing. I frequently think, “Why not
and fated to repeat itself again the following day. Rise for class,
go out tonight? I deserve it.” Hell, I frequently find excuses to
Mace 2012
rationalize by stating, “it could be the one or two opportunities
that I will expand my mind to achieve interpersonal homeostasis.”
See, EVERYBODY is SOMEBODY. And at SGU, rarely do we
have the time to appreciate the more human aspects of life and
our behavior that make us different. For that reason, meeting
and experiencing diverse cultures is so enticing. The knowledge
imparted on us in class does not change; it WON’T change.
Chemistry and anatomy unfortunately CANNOT alter the way it’s
TOP: Postbacc LIMING; BOTTOM: Postbacc doing work.
worked for hundreds, thousands, millions(?) of years. The path,
however, that made most students actually SIT through that
lecture, in Grenada of all places, is so greatly unique, that it itself
the facets of our pre- and post-SGU careers. Through our
needs to be appreciated. Each person will undoubtedly add his
diverse knowledgebase, we have formalized intents of pursuing
or her own insight and framework to a conversation. This is the
medicine with an open mind. We are more aware of the need to
true beauty of SGU—having a breadth of experience that can be
apply aspects of building rapport and developing the HUMAN
as varied as a former pilot, engineer, substance abuse counselor,
DYNAMIC in medicine—even if it means not getting straight As.
human rights activist and banker sitting in a neighboring desk.
Don’t get me wrong. Medicine is not something you stumble
Every student has their own story regarding pursuit of education;
upon. It is a path you voluntarily choose to pursue, and one that
it’s unfortunate but they often go unrecognized.
seems to make the most sense for a select group of 12 individuals
As numerous nontraditional applicants to SGU’s School of
with—what seems like a quagmire of—worldly experience.
We could all benefit from ACCEPTING the relative absurdity
Medicine, members of the postbaccalaureate program find
campus life entirely engaging and eye-opening. Serendipitous
2
of it all:
“Discovery by accident, in fact, is probably always much
for sure, completely random? Most likely not. We all have our
own stories from the professional and nonprofit world, and we
MORE calculated than initially conceived.”
bring these experiences to medicine, making lessons learned
more tangible. Our pursuits of grandiose job goals and reaching
our destination were never tasks to be left vacant.
Angelo is a student in the postbaccalaureate program.
1
heory of mind: the ability to attribute mental states—beliefs, intents,
T
desires, knowledge—to oneself and others (EMPATHY) and to understand
that others have beliefs, desires and intentions that are different from
one’s own. Developed at 18 months in humans.
2
scientific method of serendipity is often juxtaposed with purposeful
A
discovery by experiment.
From career-changers and full-time alpha personalities,
we morphed into accidental scientists. Medical school just
happened to be there…in Grenada. Therefore, our prospective
practices will be our “most happy accident,” as we intertwine
Mace 2012
73
The Story
Donella Hosten
This is a story
About my journey
Through history
So listen to me
As I tell you his story, her story,
That part of history that was left out of their story;
During the days of slavery
When they took us for the ‘Mother’ Country
And tried to destroy our black identity.
You did not know the beginning
But let me tell you something
The colour of your skin
Must not determine
Your ending,
And no! It is not a sin
To be black,
As a matter of fact
Those before us have left a path
That we must follow.
We must not dwell in the past sorrows
But look forward to a brighter tomorrow.
Leave behind the oppression, depression,
Regression and suppression
And take with you a lifelong lesson
That will make you a better person.
For just one minute of your life
Forget about black or white,
Erase those coloured lines,
And put your pen to paper and write;
Let the words that you write,
Bite them, fight them, ignite that fire within them,
Because it is his story, her story
That part of history that was left out of their story.
Let your words be like blood,
Rich and thick like the mud
In which they plant their crops,
And you must not stop
Until they have realized
That you cannot be fooled by their lies.
Let them see,
That you have read their story
But you know his story, her story
That part of history that was left out of their story;
Let them see,
That we have reclaimed our identity
And they cannot destroy the black in me.
Donella Hosten is a student in the School of Arts and Sciences
pursuing a degree in psychology.
74
Mace 2012
As Luck Would Have It
Kari Borrelli, MD
Original artwork by Kari Borrelli, MD. “As Luck Would Have It”
Dr. Borrelli graduated from the School of Medicine in 2002.
A Fortunate Accident
By Daniel Cho
people we may have never met if not for SGU, or all the Fish
Fridays or the Carnivals that we would not have experienced.
I can definitively say that I have met some new lifelong friends
and done things that I would not have otherwise done or seen.
Further, the act of coming here serves as a professional rite of
he dictionary defines “serendipity” as
passage. It allows us to show, not to anybody else but ourselves,
an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by
how much we want to achieve our goals. It reassures us of how
accident—“fortunate accidents,” if you will. Frankly,
bad we want this. Whether our journey originated a few miles
I am not as fond of this definition, because I do not
away from L’Anse Aux Epines or thousands of miles away via
like the idea that our lives are subject to “accidents.” I am a
London, we have all made a commitment to walk this path. And
strong believer in the fact that everything that happens in
this was a decision made not under duress but after careful
our lives happens for a reason. (I think that there is no other
assessment. We all knew this journey would not be easy, but
healthy perspective on the matter. It unnerves me to think
yet we made it anyway. Why? Because of how passionate we are
that events in our lives can be the result of entropy or chaos.)
about what we want to do. Coming to SGU has shown me this
Now, whether you believe the driving force here is destiny,
more than anything else.
fate, karma, or the will of God, I believe that all the events
As recipients of this serendipity, let us strive to be conduits
in our lives, good and bad, happen for a reason. They have
of serendipity to others—to be fortunate accidents. As much
purpose. Therefore, I would contend that a better definition
as we have been given, much will be expected of us. I said
of serendipity is just simply “grace,” receiving something that
earlier that we were given an “opportunity” to succeed, but
one does not deserve. And it is for that reason that, we are the
in actuality, “responsibility” would be a better word. We have
personification of serendipity. Allow me to explain…
been given great talents that will be called upon to help others.
We are the recipients of serendipity. If we were to speak
We will be the very ones that will save our health care systems
plainly, it would be fairly close to unanimous that, given a
from the doctor shortages they created. Ironically, we, the bent
choice, most of us would not have chosen to come to SGU.
arrows, will be needed by those that bent us. We, stones that
Given the opportunity, every one of us would prefer to pursue
the builder refused, will be called upon to build a shelter for the
our education at Harvard or Cambridge. Especially for those of
builder that rejected us. We, pieces of cloth, will make up the
us from the US or Canada, we are here because we were unable
quilt that warms the tailor that discarded us.
to matriculate in a school back home. These are facts. We are
the result of a broken system—the bent arrows, the stones that
So, as we forge ahead, let us not be bitter or resentful but
rather remember how “fortunate” we are from their “accident.”
the builder refused; the fabric on the tailor’s floor… We were
the unwanted.
But although we may not have initially chosen our path
here, I doubt many here would regret their decision to come. I
certainly do not. After all, by coming here, we have been given
an opportunity to pursue our goals of higher education—to be
doctors, vets, all manner of professionals. SGU has given us a
chance when most other institutions did not. Also, given the
experiences and friendships forged here, there is no doubt
that our lives have been enriched through this. Imagine all the
76
Mace 2012
Daniel is a student in the School of Medicine pursuing an MD
degree.
Serendipity
By Stacey Byer
with the kids at the GAP and ECIP, an old memory from years
ago of wanting to become an art therapist keeps resurfacing. I
never knew accidentally stumbling onto this job would point to
an old path I had forgotten about.
I look forward to further participation and development
eaching art at the Grand Anse Playgroup
of any program that would provide education and or therapy
(GAP) was a completely serendipitous affair. In true
through art, and though I will never give up being an illustrator,
Grenadian fashion, I heard about the Grand Anse
the GAP is providing me with lifelong experiences that will be
Playgroup through a friend of a friend of a friend.
very handy in the future.
Being an illustrator and somewhat of a free spirit, I wasn’t
sure exactly how I would fit into a day care—the kids were so
Stacey is a staff member at the Grand Anse Playgroup (GAP).
young! But one sunny morning I pressed on to my interview
toting resume, portfolio, and big dreams about the possibility
of integrating art into their “teach through play” program.
To say I found the best people to work with in Grenada
would sound contrived, but I easily fell into a routine thanks
to the open-mindedness and teaching knowledge of the GAP
administrators.
Art classes were placed in the schedule for the juniors
and seniors and expressing oneself through art is greatly
encouraged at any hour at the GAP. Art is a great learning tool
for kids. It stimulates the brain, engages kids to use their senses,
and helps develop their problem-solving skills.
I was invited to join ECIP, an early childhood intervention
program developed by Jenelle Bullen and Tammy Martin. I
was keen to be involved in some volunteer work and, although
apprehensive, I decided to give this a try. Now, every third
Saturday, I man the painting station and interact/encourage the
special-needs kids that we work with. Despite their challenges,
they are so amazing and I actually find myself looking forward
to working with them.
A year later, I am still at the GAP being awed daily by the
children’s natural outpourings of creativity. The more I work
Mace 2012
77
Amazonicos
Joseph Allen, MD
I can definitely say that my time spent in Grenada had a
profound impact on my artwork. Being very visual and colororiented, what I see with my eyes gets imprinted in my memory.
Some would call it photographic memory. Color creates
emotion, which affects different people in different ways as they
identify with their own visual memory. If I close my eyes, I can
see the white golden sand of Grand Anse Beach, the turquoise
water of the Caribbean ocean, the lush greens of the palm trees
and the rain forest, the blue skies and the red/orange/pink and
purple sunsets. I can see the bright colorful clothing, the pastel
colors of the old buildings on the Carenage, the red boomboom reggae bus, the cocoa skin tones and the bright smiles
of the local Grenadian people. With these memories, I feel the
breeze, smell the salty ocean, the nutmeg, the barbecue, relax
in the warm sun, taste the coconut, the pumpkin soup, and the
cool Carib beer!
So it is indeed serendipity that my time in Grenada has had
such an impression on my art…because when I paint, these
influences come out all by themselves and evoke the cool vibe
with what I hope is a joyful and grand visual experience for all
to share.
Dr. Allen graduated from the School of Medicine in 1999.
78
Mace 2012
Original artwork by Joseph Allen, MD. “Amazonicos” 36” x 24”, Oil on Canvas
MACE 2013
Vision
Vision. It leads man to create a future out of the present; to leave
the nest and fly into the unknown, to see something that does not
exist and endeavor to make it so. Without the capacity of vision,
we would all be hunkering, cold and hungry, in our endless dark
caves. We have hopes for ourselves, hopes for our children, hopes
for our friends and our communities, and hope for mankind. All of
this hope rests on the capacity to visualize a different tomorrow.
In 1976, the founders of St. George’s University had a vision.
Each of you has had a vision for yourselves. Our days are full of
great visions for an articulated future, and small visions of human
interaction and apprehensions of nature and life in general.
Mace 2013 calls for writings, musings, drawings, jottings, photos,
conceits, delights, cartoons, polemics, anything expressive of our
2013 theme—Vision. We invite you to share a part of yourself in next
year’s edition. Details for Mace 2013 as well as the 2012 University
Photo Contest will be posted this spring.
80
Mace 2012
Mace 2012
81
St. George’s University, University Centre, Grenada, West Indies
c/o The North American Correspondent: University Support Services, LLC
3500 Sunrise Highway, Building 300
Great River, NY 11739
© 2012 St. George’s University
82
Mace 2012

Serendipity - St Georges University

Transcription

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