ALBERT COLLEGE OF MEDICINE

First a story.  Jack barges into my office, laughing so hard he was crying.  After a minute or two he calmed down and asked me:

Jack: “Did you tell So and So that the treatment for prostatitis is sex three times a day for weeks?”

Me: “Probably, why?”

Jack: “They are in room three complaining that three times a day is causing stress at home and work.”

Me: “Tell them I said it would be ok to cut back to twice a week since they were doing so well.”

Jack upped it to three times a week and everyone left happy.

Continuing my journey:  Portsmouth was boring, New York was not!  Foreign grads were required to do a fifth year of training called “The Fifth Pathway.”  I thought I was lucky to be accepted at the prestigious Albert Einstein College of Medicine.   Little did I know that the Bronx-Lebanon Hospital was in a war zone.

Actually, being from a relatively small city in Virginia, I was not ready for New York.  Renee and I had just gotten married.  I stayed with a friend’s Italian family in an Italian neighborhood in Newark.  Mrs. M. was a phenomenal cook.  Her two boys and husband had different food likes and M. often prepared 3 meals in 1 night.  I was in hog heaven.

One night, at the dinner table, I proudly announced that I had found an apartment and we’d be getting out of their hair.  When I told them that it was in Secaucas, I thought they would die laughing.  Secausas was surrounded by pig farms; and, when the wind blew in the right direction, it stunk.  I was so excited to find a place, I overlooked the fact that it was a three story walkup in a city that fined you if you didn’t litter.

It seems like every time I needed a special person to enter my life, God sent him/her. The next person to bless my life was Renee’s Uncle Arnold.  We were broke!  I sold my coin set to buy Renee a diamond.  Renee had to give up her job as Director of Speech Pathology to follow me to NY.  Arnold lent us $15,000.  I thought I was rich.  Arnold would call regularly, offering us more money.

“Renee, Uncle Arnold has lost his mind.  He’s so rich that he can’t imagine us living on $15,000 for a year.”  Looking back in time, I am amazed that we did!  Uncle Arnold’s loan provided us with the ability to survive in New York and move on to Illinois.  We were so excited when we were able to pay him back in full.

The first day on the job (I was essentially an intern) the police sat us down to give us a battle plan.  The streets were dangerous!  We were to travel in bunches if possible.  If we felt threatened or at night, we could run the red lights.  If trapped, run over whatever is in your way. The list got more absurd.

In fact, there were shootings in the ER.  I never started an IV.  My first patient pointed to a vein in his thumb and told me how he would kill me if I blew his vein.  I handed him the needle and he started his own IV.  We treated alcoholics with IV alcohol.  In other words, we gave up on them.

Week one, I took the train. I quickly realized that, at Fifty Second street, all humans got off and I was left with the inmates of the South Bronx (Fort Apache).  I switched to driving my car.  I certainly did not need a cup of coffee in the am.  The exhilaration of driving fast through a war zone caused my BP and pulse to soar.

My favorite story was about a woman who had seen the OB resident a week before and wanted her birth control changed.  She said her husband hated it and it hurt.  There was no note in her chart, so I set her up for an exam. Apparently, the resident had walked away from the patient to take a phone call; and, thinking she was done, the patient walked out with the speculum still in her vagina.  I removed the speculum and told her we would start her on the pill.  She was happy when she left and thanked me repeatedly.

Sundays in New York were precious!  We would drive to the lower eastside to “Pickle Heaven.”  You could smell the pickles 2 blocks away. I still have Gus’s Pickles shipped to me on special occasions.

The name on my diploma, Albert Einstein School of Medicine, opened all doors and ultimately brought to Illinois.  My Family Practice Residency at Lutheran General was not fun.  There are no good stories to tell. There were several mentors who stepped up and made sure I learned to use the tools I needed to practice medicine. I was in the second class in a new Family Practice residency program and we were treated as second class citizens on each rotation.

The obstetricians had only taught a handful of FP residents and did not think family docs should be delivering babies.  I explained to them that I was stubborn and going to deliver babies whether they taught me or not.  Dr. Robert Turner took it on himself to teach me and hone my skills until I could do a c-section on my own.  I loved delivering babies and came very close to being an ObGyne. One of the gynecologists was quick to point out that the day he delivered the baby was the baby’s first birthday.  He threw a party.  Dr Pepper gave his infants an “I’m a Pepper” tee shirt.

I loved delivering babies from my first experience in the Bronx.  The residents stayed in the call room while the women in labor screamed.  I kept asking the chief resident if we should check on our patients.  He said that the patients screaming was a form of birth control, letting the dads know how painful delivery was.  He told us that, when it was time to deliver, we would here the patient call to God. “Dios Mia” meant deliver the baby.  He was right.   My love of seeing these babies in training and in practice were some of the best highlights of medicine.

I got kicked off my surgical rotation after telling the surgeon I assisted that I WAS BORED.  He asked what I thought and I responded with the truth. You should never ask for my opinion if you are not ready for the truth.

 I had not done my homework; otherwise I would have known that he was the chairman of the department and famous for his neck dissection.  Oops!  Dr. Singh Hahn stepped in and saved the day.  Dr. Lack was my mainstay and one of the smartest individuals I’ve ever met.  He has become a lifetime friend; and, if ever I need encouragement, I call him.

Dr Abzug was director of the ER.  Every year, he stole 1-2 residents and turned them into ER docs.  He taught me the art of emergency medicine.  I started working in the ER at a local hospital before I graduated and spent 3 years as an ER doc working for another mentor, Dr. Zydlo.  More about him later!

I was very lucky to find a group of docs who believed in me and took it upon themselves to arm me with the knowledge and skills I needed to care for my patients.

Here’s your joke for the day:

A lady called her gynecologist and asked for an “emergency” appointment.

The receptionist said to come right in. She rushed to the doctor’s office and was ushered right into an examination room. The doctor came in and asked about her problem.

She was very shy about her emergency problem and asked the gynecologist to please examine her vagina.

So, the doctor started to examine her. He stuck up his head after completing his examination.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said, “but removing that vibrator is going to involve a very lengthy, delicate and expensive surgical operation.”

“I’m not sure I can afford it,” sighed the young woman. “But, while I am here, could you just replace the batteries?”