SUNY Downstate Medical Center - Iatros Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Text from Pages 1 - 164 of the 1970 volume:

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V % a time to rend a time of war and a time of peace and a time to sew ,5 Sfe ' - H ■ ' 1 Kj m 41 rfr .:m mtBEi t l J W % r y fJffi HI Wl I ■ •  ■T P «P N. a time for love i m •jir :- SV i 7! m(t. and a time for hate a time to keep silent J TWELFTH IWIE H DISCIH - INAKV SgMtHAK SPOWSORKD BY THE COMMITTgE OF THE PACULTY and a time to speak •-he Revoluti HERaEHT C. LICMTMAN, M. D. Profeaaor of Medicine: Chairr.an, conwiittee of the Faculty Downatate Medical center PAUL EDELSOK Senior Medical student Downatate Medical Center Local Problem •le Man in the Middle esponaea of Adiainiatration MICHAEL MERSON preaident of the Student council Downatate Medical Center AlJUl S. JOSEPRSOIf, H. D. Aaaociate Profeaaor of Medicine Downatate Medical Center SCHUYLER G. KOHL. M. D. Aaaociate Deanr Profeaaor of Obatetrica t Gynecology Downatate Medical Center Dr.a learned froB the crla lujabia univaraity AJtCHIBALD COK, PH.D. saaual Hilliaton profeaaor of La«. Lav School of Harvard Univeraity MAY 7. 19( ) 7|00 F.n. to lOtOO P.M. LECTURE MALL I a time to break down APPEDI Bear Mount Discussed bj ELECYS Z ' !!i ' ' ' ' ,„„, tor n ' ,„ , if c K!U7 ! ■ ' ■ e - ' y majoritj ,, ' ,. ' a fime fo fewi J wp X :tl to .uqgMt • , i ,t th. cla.« oftlc . t° •  iti)c d th« ' t Dooy -   1 4, co-ltt«.. =f ' - ' ' - f for th. .rrll !. po.ltlon. CoancH 0,.lr C1....S. 1 ' ! ,n It -111 f u 3.r.to  J tl..t on. o« th.ir r.n« .iMlltl . ; _f tl? of th. co-iltt«.. P ' ' ' „, th. co-ltt.. ' . .ctlvltU. A ll.t o pr..ia .t. Th.y «. tl ..,  K. pooltton. open -lU « ' ' ° ' co ltt on «a J lc Standi.,. Mik. ubovltl (IV) ' Rick Preq.r (III) Or«q luuechor (II) -p itlon open for first y« .tudent CODBittoa on Student Affair tUtch Barman (IV) ' •SltLe and a time for change . . . The existing evils result from neglect . . . of the great fundamental princ iple laid down by Plato — that education is a lifelong process, in which the student can only make a beginning during his college course . ... To cover the vast field of medicine in four years is an impossible task. We can only instill principles, put the student in the right path, give him methods, teach him to study, and early to discern between essentials and non-essentials. Sir William Osier Aequanimitas Change is painful. And unfortunately people who identify themselves with forms of institu- tions permit change only when it becomes more painful not to change than to change. Bishop James Shannon in the National Catholic Reporter The Downstate class of 1970 must meet the challenges of a new decade in graduate medical education, latros 1970 will review the four years past and try to evaluate our preparation for medicine in the decades ahead. These past four years have been marked by the emergence of a new atmosphere at Downstate, one molded by a feeling of belonging on the part of the students and an increased willingness to make positive changes. Equally important is the pride in medicine and medical education that have underpinned efforts towards improvement. It would be fully as sad to lack pride in the education we have received at Downstate as it would be to lack pride in the profession we are entering. Having but one opportunity, we will never graduate from a better medical school; we certainlv do not graduate from the poorest. Furthermore, we may curse the problems of BrooklvTi and, upon graduating, flee from them; but we will never find a more stark and varied proving ground for our education. Finally, if we regard our training as third rate, no one else can be expected to regard it more highly. Throughout the conflicts that have arisen in the past years at the Medical Center, the word pride has become frazzled by the frequency with which it is invoked to give stature to arguments. Many have felt that the students ' positions have not arisen from legitimate pride but from a spirit of derision or a sense of self-aggrandisement. If this were so, one wonders why students come here: what the terms, what the price? The prime reason to come to medical school is to learn to become a physician. Nevertheless, each student has an individual concept of what a good doctor is and is not. They carry this pride into the classroom and onto the ward and refuse to let that pride die when they encounter a type of doctor, a type of education, a type of insti- tution of which they are not proud. They use this pride as a spur to goad them to speak, when in the past was silence; to lead ra ther than follow; to act in the face of rebuff. It is not the student who criticizes a course who will forget Downstate in twenty years, but the one who is afraid to think he has a voice in his own education. The Downstate of the friture will suffer less from those who err on the side of presumption and impudence in their efforts than those who from apathy and fear make no effort at all. Our efforts are directed toward constructive change. The word change frightens and disturbs many people, to whom it connotes turmoil, flux, un- certainty. Yet, without change there is no evolution; and the earth itself would remain a small, wet rock revolving in space. Man is the first organism on earth to have the potential to order his own evolution, to concejve prin- ciples of orderlv change. Up to the present, evolution has proceeded by trial and error, and it is still highly questionable whether man will seize its reins or simplv prove to be a dead end of the process, self-eradicated from the face of the earth. He who never disturbs the status quo runs little risk of offend- ing, but leaves little impression on his world. He who agitates for new things runs much risk of offending; but he has an immeasurably greater potential for advancing causes, and even in failure his action is instructive. Change is difficult. It involves work that is often unfruitful, hopes that are often frustrated, confrontation that often leaves bitterness in its wake, failures that leave behind weariness and cynicism. But there is no standing still. If the struggle is not to improve, decay and deterioration will inevitably ensue. And so the struggle must be. The class of 1970 is involved both in pride and in change: we are proud of our efforts to bring about meaningful change in the institution which has of- fered us our professional training. There are many dedicated educators and administrators here who have been leaders in this same effort. While ac- knowledging them, we note that the present graduating class has had the pride in Downstate and its potential to devote a great deal of their time and energy to programs to improve our educational experience. We feel these ef- forts have offered much of the impetus to the changes of the 70 ' s. Thus, we dedicate latros 1970 to the class of 1970, the class of change. The Staff R. JANET WATSON, M.D. 1913-1969 We are here today to pay tribute to Janet Watson, a dear friend and colleague, who achieved international recognition for her scientific achievements and more immediately the enduring love and respect of her students, relatives and friends. Janet was born in Fenchow, China, in 1913, of medical missionary parents. Her education through high school was carried out by her mother. That this parental education was excellent is substantiated by her election to Phi Beta Kappa in her junior year at C arleton College from which she graduated Summa Cum Laude. Janet travelled east to study medicine and received her Doctor of Medicine from the Columbia College of Physicians and Surgeons in 1938. This was followed by an internship, with residencies in pediatrics and internal medicine at tlie Long Island College Hospital. At this point in her career, she expressed an interest in hematology and was sent to Boston for a post doctoral fellowship in hematology with Dr. George Minot and Dr. William Castle at the Thorndike Laboratories of the Harvard Medical School. Janet returned to the Long Island College of Medicine, which was to become the State University of New York Downstate Medical Center, to become an As- sociate Professor in the Department of Internal Medicine and then achieved similar rank in the Department of Pediatrics. It was here as the author and co- author of almost 50 scientific papers that she received world-wide recognition for her studies of the anemias and pioneered in Sickle Cell Disease. Her vast fund of knowledge, coupled to a probing, scientific mind, with a fine sense of timing, made her a keen and sympathetic clinician. Above all, Janet Watson remained a devoted teacher and friend, whose warmth and charm was felt by all fortunate to come in contact with her. This is never more clearly identified than by her effort to learn the names of every student in her laboratory the first week of class. Graduate students came to her from all over the world and went to their respec- tive lands stimulated and inspired to carry out her teachings. Her universahty will be achieved through her academic progeny. Throughout, she remained humble to her achievements and kept close ties to her mother, her brother Ted, and sisters Edith and Margery. Apart from medicine, she lo ed nature in general, and ornithology in particular. She rarely missed a weekend of hiking with the Brooklyn Bird Club, observing and taking census through the seasons. The year book of this medical school was dedicated to her in 1951 and 1964. A portion of the last dedication best illustrates Janet Watson as the brilliant humanist we all remember: To salute Doctor Janet Watson as a dedicatee of the 1964 Lichonian is to pay tribute to an individual who fulfills without question the criteria which we set forth as our goals. The sensitive and knowing hand of the healer, the keen insight and ever probing mind of the .scientist, the encyclopedic knowledge and earnest concern of the teacher, the patient ear and reassuring voice of the sincere advisor and friend: these are the inspiring qualities which spring from the very nature of this selfless physician and gracious lady whom we have come to know and regard with deep respect and true affection. Eulogy by Austin Fink, M.D. In tlie case of drastic change the uneasiness is of course deeper and more lasting. We can never he really prepared for that which is wholly new. We have to adjust ourselves, and every radical adjustment is a crisis in self-es- teem: we undergo a test, we have to prove ourselves. It needs inordinate self- confidence to face drastic change without inner trembling. Eric Hoffer in The Ordeal of Change September of 1966 was the beginning of what was to become a new way of hfe. It was to signify an entrance into another world; one small world within a larger one. Times were changing. Paris designers brought down the waistline and brought up the hemline, giving birth to the mini. Female in- dependence took a giant stride forward as the pill increased in popularity and women gained greater social freedom. The fading beat generation and the man coupled to spawn the Love Child. Flowers were seen on city streets. The hippies soared on LSD to the sweet fragrance of pot and the strains of hard rock. Speed kills. Colors spilled from the turned on mind and psychedelic art was born. Strawberry Fields ushered in 1967. At a time when the term ac- tivism and the country Biafra could not be found in the Readers Guide to Periodical Literature, opposition arose to the escalation of the War in Vietnam. Draft card burning and self-immolation became front-page news and glued together the groups that were to form the Peace Movement. Adam Clayton Powell began his Bimini exile and Senator Thomas Dodd bristled in the glare of public exposure. A military court began the court-martial trial of Howard Levy for refusing to instruct Green Berets, while another former Downstate student, Carl Coppolino, failed to convince a Florida court of his innocence in his wife ' s mysterious demise. In early June war flared in the Middle East and like a phosphorus flame, Isreal seared her Arab oppressors. In a country nurturing a peace movement, a general, resembling a character in The King and I, seized the public ' s imagination and Moshe Dayan became an overnight hero. 1967-68 brought a new TV show, Laugh-In, which kept many a medical student away from his books. The Graduate captured the fancy of critics and public alike and became a standard against which subsequent films were judged. Lesle KreiKmiin was one of the students in the Student Health Organization deep- ly involved in the SHO ' s Student Health Project during the summer of 1968. The following is taken from an article in the New Caducean Commentary of October 1968 which indicates some of the prob- lems that SHO experienced, and also gives some hints as to the reasons for its present difficulties. SHP ' s merit is that it has a vital educational function, while pro iding some useful services. It extends beyond the curricula of most medical and health science schools, especially in the interdis- ciplinary team approach and the field of community medicine. The patient is seen not in the context of the hospital ward, but in the wider context of his total environment. Yet, these reports conclude that SHO and SUP of Greater New York are as yet inadequate in philosophy and structure. Before entering a community, one must know why he is going, whether he is wanted, and exactly what he will do when he gets there. This calls for a program which is prefera- bly a continuing one for which good groundwork is laid in the winter months. This would help avoid a generalized confusion of goals and inordinate concern with the authoritarian structure that has plagued the SHP workers. SHO seeks to have its members become not harsh, cynical critics but originators of ideas and solutions, not fearing engulfrnent by an outmoded system but becoming objective as they acquaint them- selves with it. To this end, tlie reports conclude that SHO of Greater New York needs to become better defined, to divide labor more ef- fectively, to seek financing from go ernment and private sources for summer projects early in the year. Periodic evaluative discussions and the help of professional and community people would help achieve these goals. To ensure a transition staff tlie students should generally be chosen for the summer SHP from the project area. Projects should be planned so as not to require needless repetition at community expense. Ill South .-y ' rica, a little known cardiac surgeon became famous o ernight. Christaan Barnard performed the first human -to-human heart transplant. In a year later to be remembered for its turmoil, the Pueblo was captured by North Korea. Gene McCarthy announced he would be a candidate for the Democratic party ' s presidential nomination and his success in the primaries led Bobby Kennedy to throw his hat in the ring. George Wallace rose alarmingly from the South. Johnson announced he would not run. Assassination— King and Kennedy. Nixon and Spiro who? were nominated in Miami while HHH prevailed in riot torn Chicago. That same . ugust, Russia invaded Czechoslovakia. Excavation for a gym in Morningside Heights became the spark for student revolt at Columbia. .Mark Rudd and the SDS occupied campus buildings and forced the University to close. So inspired, other campuses reverberated with student demands and campus unrest took on a more forceful meaning. September, 1968, opened the school year, but New York City teachers refused to answer the bell. They went the way of other city employees and struck for higher wages. Hair opened on Broadway and contributed more to popular music than any show since ' My Fair Lady. The DeGaulle era ended. The Jets won the Superbowl. Boston won the NBA playoffs and there was hope for a third-place finish in a six-team division for the Mets. Earl Warren administered ; « !:_ ' „ ' ' l S? ' ! ■  aor (■laiiEifMi  . ilk Hi of office to Dick Nixon, who coine(| ft phiase silent majnntv to represent his siippojtfir B m And ni New oik |olin Lindsay decided to tak§ - e another crack at tli ' second tou ' hest job in America. The Fall of 1969 brought the exci tement of the World Champion Mets as well as a rather dull mayoral race as Lindsay was reelected— almost by default. Protest resumed toward die lingering Viet- nam war and, in response. President Nixon began a slow dismantling of our Asian war machine. Aims limitation talks began with Russia and in one giant leap for mankind, man walked on tlie moon. These past four years have also seen the Rip Van Winkle that was American medicine slowh come to life. Asleep since the Flexner Report, medical education awoke with a start amid lu ' gings for ex- pansion and curriculum revision. Another slumber- ing giant, the AMA, moved into the political areria and, in the face of criticism in its own ranks, pans to reexamine American medicine. Federal and State government met rising medical costs witli programs of assistance only to have the costs spiral sti higher, creating new medical needy. Prosperity has spawned a new kind of physiciai one who chooses a specialty rather than general practice, not only because it allows him to more nearly master an aspect of medicine, but also because it may allow him more regular hours, vaca- tion time iuid, perhaps, increased profits. While die specialist is more capable of handling tk ' patient referred to him, he is less able to fulfill the image created by his predecessors one and two genera- tions ago. The result of this apparent loss in dedica-  - ?; t t vt t I f ' iiiif mil mil mil ini ' ' r liiilniiimnim If lit If ' ' i!inlunSiiim fffff I ' isissssss -, Hon and very real loss in doctor-patient relationsl is a decline in prestige for the medical professionT We live in a science-fiction age and the mystique of medicine does not impress as it did formerly. In recognition of ' the necessity or family physicians, the AMA recently created a general practice specialty willi residency training in inter- na! nu-dicine. surgery, pediatrics and ps)cliiatr ' . This program ai:)pears most aimed at peer accei)- tance of general practice in the face of medical schools ' emphasis on specialization. It is hoped that by strengthening peer image as well as background, the trend away from general practice will be reversed. The role of the physician is in a rapid phase of evolution. He seems headed for greater conrnumity in ' ol ement, pn bably more on a political ;md ci it association level ratlier than through work in the ghettoes. At Downstate, we have seen exidence of student interest in all three of the above areas. The anti- ' ietnani war group and Biafra Medical Relief are two o rganizations showing shong commitment to world events. Tlie Student Health Project in the summer of 196S made slight impact on Brook] n ' s poor, but marked impact on the medical students involved. Student participatiori on committees and in curriculum e ' ahiation and revision point to interest on the part of physicians-to-be in local pohtic. In five or ten years, the Class of 1970 will begin, perhaps, to project a ne - image to those it serves— an image forged in ideals, tempered by daily frustration and sharpened by pride in being a physician. By 1879 the faculty was thoroughly con- vinced that the method of teaching medicine then in vogue in practically all medical schools was entirely unsatisfactory. As the Annual Annouticement of that year stated, ' ' the system of medical teaching generally followed in this country, of repeat- ing the same lectures annually . . . is radical- ly wrong. The Council and Faculty have adopted an elective graded course of in- struction for such as desire more thorough and more systematic training in the primary before passing to the more advanced prac- tical branches. Dr. Skene had been a pupil and an assist- ant of Dr. Austin Flint, so it is not surpris- ing to find that two of his outstanding characteristics were in always insisting the patient be studied as an individual, and being conservative in treatment. History of the Long Island College Hospi- tal and SUNY Downstate Medical Center Austin Flint Professor of Medicine 1860-1868 The lack of geographic diversity at our medical school has long been a source of concern to a good number of students at Downstate. While it may seem to be a matter of little consequence, in ac- tuality the existing situation indicates an issue of important magnitude. Few would argue against the idea tliat diversity among the individual members of the student body is a stimulus to new ideas, an aid to the students ' maturational growth, and a necessary condition for an exciting and intellectual community. Ideally, the students should come from a large variety of social, political, economic, intellectual, and cultural backgrounds. While such latitude is not presently feasible, this situation could be approached. One major problem in this regard is that those in- dividuals who are accepted to medical school have already undergone numerous screening processes, all of which inevitably work to decrease tlie degree of diversity in the group. Christine Hry- cien transfer stu- dent from Bo- logna The argument for wide geographic distrihution, howexer, is not as pertinent as that for diversit ' among indi iduals in general. It is probably true that all of the ariables mentioned have a degree of ar ing representation in Neu ' York Cit ' alone, and that it is not necessary to search far and wide for students with widely divergent backgrounds. Howe er, due to a combination of factors, including prior selection of students, local cultural forces which work to interest particular groups of people in medicine, and Downstates present philosophy con- cerning the selection of students, a somewhat limited type of student finds his way to our school. In all fairness it must be stated that there is some degree of diversity in our student body. In our class alone, 72 different undergraduate schools are represented and these run the gamut from small New England colleges to Ivy League schools, large Midwestern and Western uni ersities, and New York Cit) ' colleges. We also have a small number of transfer students from European and otlier . merican medical schools. We are therefore not without our geographic diversity, but when the distribution is broken down into numbers the problem presents itself .Appro.ximately 60 f of our class is from New York State colleges, with 485 coming from New York Cit schools. If New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and the New England states are taken as a unit, this encompasses 86? of our class. Fourteen percent of our class comes from Ivy League schools. In addition, a number of students coming from schools other than those mentioned are originalK ' from the Nortlieast; the reverse is not true. The situation is not simple. Even if greater geographic representation e.xisted, this would not necessarily guarantee greater diversity in the areas already discussed. College is an environment where exposure to various points of view and Hfe styles should take place. Yet medical students in the past, and to a great degree today, conform to a specific mold. They are basically compulsive indi iduals, who have spent a large part of their undergraduate training, whether by choice or neces- sity, competing in a rigorous academic tournament for the ul- timate prize of standing o er a noxious gross anatomy table. This contest demands that the student spend many hours in a laboratory, and if he chooses, poring over his books. Is it therefore possible for a diverse medical school population to exist? More important, is it the responsibility of an admissions committee to be involved with these matters or should the academic medical hierarchy continue to congratulate itself on its (successful?) selection of the stereotype? At Downstate, the desire for a more varied student popula- tion is tempered by the important fact that our school is a member of the State University of New York, and is therefore supported to a great extent by the state. It is unlikely that the legislature in . lbany is that concerned with the contribution Joel Bass Brooklyn College Alan Rote Harvard Colle ge that a farmboy from Kansas or an oilman ' s son from Texas might make to the Downstate academic com- munity. Therefore, to what degree can we justify a desire for greater enroHment of students from other parts of the country? Isn ' t lack of geographic diver- sity a small price to pay for all the benefits received as a result of state subsidy? In an age where medicine is increasingly in- volved in social and political affairs, and demands are made on the physician that require a more receptive, aware, and frilly-rounded individual, the function of the medical school must be to provide an environment for continued growth. We should look to the future to see how Downstate ' s cultural, social, and political horizons can be broadened from within its own geographic confines. Reginald Trenthan Master s Degree in engineering Alfred Pennisi came do« n from Upstate Joseph Marino Manhattan College bv wav of Italv Sometimes forgetting is a blessing, e en in the medical profession. Faced with the new problems of internship and residency, we forget the trauma that preceded it all. No matter what our feelings, it is a seller ' s market, and the kicking and clawing is o er for all but the most completely spastic, . pproaching the front doors of medical school was a different business, and the market was far from bullish for many of us. Depending on how eiirh ' we began to pursue our present demanding mistress, our li es danced to her demands. The pre-med realized that failure to breach tlie doors left him outfitted for little else of distinction. He wasn ' t even too sure that whanging away at bio with all the other grubby preemies was any kind of a sure passport to his ambitions. The well rounded guy who decided on medicine late was impressive with his arty background, but then had to agonize over calculus and chem and hope his summer school physics would be acceptable. If not, he might have to rather sheepishly resume his career in anthropology. So, individually we danced to the tune, sized up the schools, and wondered whether we ' d be among the .50 to 60 per cent who didn ' t get in anywhere, let alone the school of our particular dreams. .admissions committees groaned along with us. The horn of plent ' has its hazards; what hundred do you select from a tliousand, what one out of ten bright unbelievable candidates? Despite all the good men you turn away, ou manage to accept a few real ringers. Not even the computer has a sixth sense; but it, at least, isn ' t programmed for ulcers. You sit in judgment solemnly, cogitate, ruminate, pray, and flip a quarter. There are some efforts afoot to make this annual rite of fall less of a dance macabre for all parties. One example is the introduction of a standard ad- mission form. Heretofore, each school had its own version, asking such varied in depth questions as daddy ' s occupation (elitism? fiscal Jim Crow?) or requiring such things as a biography in your very own handwriting (calligraphy? graphology?). If enough schools adopt tlie new form, as has Down- state, the applicant can just slip in a few carbons and type away, reducing his work by about 90 per cent. Another bright light on the admissions scene is a new social consciousness. Project SEEK is operating at Downstate to increase minority admissions to the profession of medicine. The method is to find fresh- men in the neighboring colleges and offer them tu- toring, summer jobs in medical fields, and moral support, with a guaranteed place in the medical Face sheet of the iiiiiform application blank developeti nnder the auspices of the Grouj) on .Student Affairs of the Associa- tion of . nierican Medical Colleges. % .« APPUCATIOX FOR ADMISSION ■ zn. ' - ■ , , „ • ' T . rjii«n .p Un.«.J Sum D a n •  ' ■- - -D  1Q CXtoiSf J,, :; li ' - ' K v_ g .- Q «■£ aejm. ■ ■■ °!,%% ' school if their academic standards and interest are maintained. Is this reverse racism? Will black doc- tors go back to the ghetto or flee to the suburbs with w hitey in the end? Even if the final marks go down on the dim side of the ledger, the attempt will have been made, and that is a hopeful sign in itself. Like all of medicine, even the recruitment i rocess has its exciting aspects, along with all the strain and pain. The field must, after all, sustain itself with dynamic new blood in an age when the image of the doctor is threatening to become ever more tar- nished. It must also foster the paramedical sister services so necessary to it. Only in this way can medicine remain vital in a vital new age. In die fall of 1968, the students and the adminis- tration embarked on a new program of student par- ticipation in the admissions program at Downstate. Steve Green, David Slovik, Burt Dibble and Hank Ginsberg were the students involved in the pilot study that year, joining the regular members of the admissions committee in interviewing applicants. Steve and David worked with Drs. Parnell and Pomerantz, respectively, for the first half of the year, while Burt and Hank worked with Drs. Pomerantz and Kydd later in the year. The role played by the students was t vofold. First, they acted as a liason between applicant and faculty member with the hope of relaxing the applicant as well as showing tlie communication be- tween faculty and students at Downstate. In addi- tion, the students hoped to aid in the determination of criteria for admission of potential Downstate students. This last role was not only the most mean- ingful for the participants but also the most difficult to fulfill. The problems of the pilot project were largely caused by a lack of structure in the program. No uniform guidelines were set up and the faculty members involved seemed even less sure of the student ' s role than the student himself The result was a wide range of participation and different degrees of emphasis on a given role. In order to un- derstand the problem better, a description of the admissions committee and the procedures it follows is necessary. The admissions committee consists of nine members of the faculty and administration. They each have three responsibilities concerning the choice of Downstate ' s entering class each year: 1. screening all applications and choosing those applicants they believe worthy of an interview; 2. interviewing applicants; 3. choosing the next entering class from those interviewed. At this point we must delve further into the machinery of the interview. The relative importance of the interview is large in the scheme of admissions criteria. Evaluation of the applicant is in terms of several parameters, but in summary, the membe r of the committee must decide on a numerical grade, based on the inter- view and the other credentials presented. This grading system has a range of 1.0-8.0 with the latter as tlie maximum score. The score is not only part of the presentation of the applicant to the committee, but actually detennines when and whether tlie presentation will occur. Applicants receiving scores of 1.0 or 2.0 will not even be presented to the entire Henry Ginsberg Student Member of .admissions Committee Dorothy Holden, M.D. FacultN Member of Admissions Committee coimnittft ' wliilr those rt ' t ' ci iiiii sroics of S.O will be ac-fi ' pted without ir ic In the entire coiiiiiiit- tee. F i()iii tlie aho e it is easiK suniiisetl that mean- ingful participation In- students in the admissions program must include a role in determining this numerical grade. Hovvexer, this past year, each (acuity member decided individually the degree of students were actually unaware of the existence of such a grading system and, in general, there was little understanding of the overall mechanics of ad- mission. general, there was little understanding of the overall mechanics of admission. Despite diese problems, the presence of students at the interviews was successfiil from the point of view of giving the applicant a more pleasant view of Downstate. Time and again the applicants expressed ple;isure at liaving the student present and many questions tliat could be best answered bv ' a student were therefore resolved. But is this the onlv- purpose of student participation in die program, or should some definite program be set up.- ' This c}uestion was partially answered this year with tlie institution of a uniform, orderly program of participation. This program was devised by the members of the admissions committee after consul- Burton Dibble Student MfTiiber ot . dniission-s (. ' oiiiinittee tation with two members of htst year ' s student group. During the 1969-70 year, each participating third-year student will be paired with a member of the admissions committee. Each applicant inter- viewed will be discussed by both members and tlie resulting score will be on the basis of this discus- sion. Students will view meetings of the committee as observers and will also participate in the meet- ings whenever a faculty member feels that the student can add significantly to the presentation, ' fliis situation would most likely develop from a marked difference of opinion concerning the can- didate. The remaining question concerns voting by students on die admissions committee. In order to evaluate this question, a superficial description of tlie meetings is necessary. Each member of die com- mittee comes to each meeting with several applicants that he is ready to present. The presenta- tion includes a review of gi ades, MCAT .scores, recommendations and the interviewers ' rating of the appliciuit. After members of the committee have had a chance to view the application, transcript, etc., for themselves, they enter their own rating on a sheet listing the applicants that will be reviewed for that day. The system appears more intricate when one considers each meeting as a continuum. Each week, applicants are considered in the light of the number of acceptances sent out, the number of places left and the group of applicants being con- sidered in general. In accordance with these factors, the average rating needed to gain acceptance drops from appro.ximately 7.5 to approximately 6.8 by the end of the season. Thus, in order for students to participate in the actual voting, weekly attendance throughout the year would be necessary and this would put a great burden on the students involved. However, the value of the student vote may be unnecessary if there is true cooperation between faculty and students within the guidelines already devised. The members of the class of 1970 who participat- ed in diis program found it a fascinating and valua- ble experience. Although they may have had little impact on the entering class this year, diey did play an important role in laying the foundation for an ex- panded and more meaningful program for the fu- ture. They were also happily surprised to find that although there was skepticism concerning the value of student participation, most of the faculty members were more than willing to accept such participation in the program. It is the hope of the students involved that they have added a new dimension to this huge, complicated and often very impersonal process. Michael Lebowitz learned of his acceptance at Downstate while on a ship off Gibraltar en route to Bologna for his second ear. Elected as a senior to AOA. Multitudes in the valley of decision Joel: III, 14 Joseph Mangiaracina, alias Boff, is one of the few who have gone through Downstate and left a legend behind. You have to be a little crazy to keep your sanity here. %%%% %VV«M rS i d) U r- © : %•• There is not a socioh politicaL or religious privilege that you enjoy today that was not bought for you by the blood and tears and patient suffering of the minority. John Bartholomew Gough Wluit is a Minority? In America, at least, the female medical student definitely represents a minority. But why female and not woman? Aside from the semantic hairsplitting, there is a somewhat deeper meaning to the above question. Truly, not all females are women (as not all males are men); but in recent years, the majority of those females in medicine are feminine, attractive, womanly. She no longer wears the dowdy business suit, the hair neatly gathered at the base of the neck, the orthopedic oxfords. She had a somewhat delayed entry into the world of modern fashion, but she wears the proverbial miniskirt with the best. One might assume that the hemline elevation was tolerated, if not appreciated. She will also marry in medical school (possibh ' at a rate of 50 or more) often to a fellow student. I believe women find medical school and medical training to be a less traumatic experience than that tolerated by their predecessors. We are accepted, and I would venture, acceptable to the men. Perhaps the situation grows out of the greater confidence we have in our own feminity, perhaps it is merely a re- turn to the natural situation of civil male-female interaction in a professional setting. One wonders why die natural state disintegrated to its depths of absurdit) ' in the past. We grant that certain special- ties impose limits on our choice of career. We are advised to choose those areas with regular hours, and many women do so readily. There are those who still feel the pressure of proving themselves professionally, and perhaps their flamboyant choices of specialties constitute a rather self-defeat- ing arrangement. But it is recognized that women are certainly adequate physicians; some are even exceptional. My own academic experience has been compara- ble to that of my husband, a classmate, except perhaps in surgery, where I was referred to as one of the fellas, and was clamped and sprayed and shoved at the operating table, though no more clumsy than any other fella. Perhaps these are only isolated incid ents, indigenous to the psychic pathology of a few Kings County surgeons and sur- geons in training. The changing face of . merican medicine may see the demise of the female question. With new areas of Adolescent Medicine, of Family Planning, of ex- panded ambulatory facilities reaching into com- munities dealing with patients one to one, the old prejudices may fade. I feel diat patients are die last to reject the woman doctor; and certainly, in medical care, the patients ' concerns must be primary-. Phvllis Selter Rochelle Hainiowitz Gordon Diane Schuller Bette Harig 1 Ricardo Wilson President Nixon and the American Medical As- sociation have only recently acknowledged the ex- istence of a national health crisis. This crisis just did not nappen. A major force in its development has been a professional elite who have seen to it that the number of medical schools in this country remain constant and that these schools maintained a small enrollment. As a result there has been no substantial increase in the number of physicians trained yearly in this country in more than 50 years whereas tlie population has more than doubled in that time. Furthermore, the educational system of this na- tion was and still is set up in such a way that the quality of education one gets is directly propor- tional to one ' s annual family income. Thus the bulk of the well educated segment of our population comes from the upper and middle classes. Academic excellence has always been the major factor in choosing persons to enter the medical profession. As a result, physicians have continually come from the most highly educated segment of our population; namely, the upper and middle classes. Figures from surveys indicate that .342 of the medical students come from America ' s upper class, i.e., the top 32 of the population, . nother 55? come from the middle class. This group of students will as they have in the past bring with them to the profession the materialistic values of their class. When these values are applied to medicine we see the development of the belief held by the majority of our colleagues that health care is a privilege rather than a right. That health care is a service and like any other service should be placed on the money market, there to be subjected to the laws of supply and demand. The problem is that health care is not like other services. For one thing it has a fixed demand, so that when prices are increased consumers cannot offset such an increase bv purchasing less of the service. This has permitted those members of our profession whose major obje c- tive in life is to become as affluent as possible to inflate the cost of health care to such an extent that often it can be afforded by only the very rich. Such persons have no qualms about selling their acquired knowledge and skills to the highest bidder. As a result the very rich are not affected by this recently declared health crisis. The middle class is just beginning to feel this crisis. However, the poor have always been in a health crisis. The sad fact is that for years in this S(x;iet ' there have been two forms of health care delivery systems. One for the poor and one for everybody else who could pay. A large segment of the poor population in this country is Black, approximately 202, so that if one studies the health care delivery system among Black people one can gain insight into the health care sys- tem among poverty groups in general. Figures cited in the Statistical Abstract of the United States, 1968, Bureau of the Census, p. 23, indicate that although ll7i of this nation ' s population is Black, only 2% of the nation ' s physicians are Black. Or, put another way, among wliite citizens, one American in 560 becomes a doctor; among Blacks, one in 3,800. Thus, one can have the situation such as exists in Roxbury, Massachusetts, where there are only 3 Black primary physicians serving the health needs of over 80,000 Black people. The medical problems of Black people often arise from the most basic needs of sanitation and nutrition, which a progres- sive industrialized nation should have eradicated long ago. While a white baby born today has a life expectancy of 68 years, a Black child can be expect- ed to die 7 years earlier. In 1940 the infant mortality rate among non-whites was 70? greater than for whites, and 22 years later, in 1962, it was 90? greater. Furthermore, in 1950, Black doctors consti- tuted 2% of all Black people in the professions, but by 1960, this figure had fallen to 1.7%. The total enrollment in medical schools is 35,809 and of that only 858, or 2..39?, are Black. Once the two predominantly Black medical schools are taken out of the survey, however, the total enrollment is 35,236 and the Black enrollment is only 328, or 0.93%. In a student body of approximately 800, Downstate has 12 Black students— 1 .5%. These students have the same academic qualifications as white students and have many things in common witli them. For example, we are mainly middle class and if it were not for the racist society in which we live, we also would run to the suburbs upon finishing our residency. The educational system in this nation is of such a nature that tlie number of Black students who reach the academic level of most medical students is small. Thus, by merely searching for such students among the Black population, little is contributed to solving the health crisis in the Black community. Even if you were able to find a substantial number of Black students at such a level, the majority of them would be middle class with middle class values and you would still be denying the poor an opportunity to enter medicine. It was with these facts in mind that Downstate initiated a guaranteed admissions program with Brooklyn College in May, 1969. The primary purpose of the program is to en- courage the application of students from poverty areas to medical schools in an effort to alleviate the critical shortage of Afro-American and Hispanic- American physicians. A secondary purpose is the early identification, recruitment and involvement of promising young undergraduates in the medical school, its personnel and programs in order to mo- tivate these students toward a career in medicine. A joint, six member Downstate Medical-Brooklyn College faculty committee was formed to organize and direct this program. The committee identified and used three selection criteria in addition to the poverty factor, these being intellectual potential, academic potential, and motivation to study medi- cine. The committee also proposed that there should be a preliminary selection process held at the college with screening by college faculty as well as a final selection procedure in which all six members of the joint committee would participate. Students selected to participate in the program were to be chosen from either the Educational Op- portunity Program (EOP) or tlie Search for Educa- tional Elevation and Knowledge (SEEK) programs of Brooklyn College. The EOP program, a special College endeavor, admitted some 200 high school graduates from poverty areas into the College in the 1968-69 academic year under special discretionary admission criteria. There were approximately 450 students at Brooklyn College in 1968-69 who had been matriculated through provisions of the SEEK program. SEEK is a City University program, sup- ported bv appropriations from the New York State legislature and aimed at bringing high-risk students from po erty areas into the eight senior colleges of the City University system. TweKe students were chosen for the program: nine .A.fro-.Americans, two Puerto Ricans, and one Chinese-. merican. The faculty committe then met to decide each student ' s specific summer (July and August) assignment at Downstate. Students, depending upon their backgrounds and indi idual preferences, were assigned to work in various laboratories and clinics. Each student was paid a stipend of $750 for the two summer months work. Each was given the option of returning to Down- state each summer until completion of un- dergraduate studies. Most important, the twelve students were promised guaranteed admission to tlie medical school upon satisfactory completion of tlieir college work. This program represents a small step in the right direction. It is an attempt to change students from the ghetto so they may fit into the medical educa- tional system as it exists today. However, medical education must also change so that it might more easily accomodate such students. Today, the cur- riculum is of such a nature that one has to be an in- tellectual giant in order to get through it. However, it is clear to me that one does not have to be an in- tellectual giant to practice medicine, particularly in some of the specialties. This is one reason there is little correlation between how well one docs as a medical student and liow well one does as a practic- ing physician. Something else must be done in addifion to early preparation of students from poverty areas for the medical educ ation system and the changing of the system to more easily suit such students. This Ix ' comes ob ious when one considers that even if all medical .schools in die country admitted only Black students, it would take 75 years of such admissions to bring the number of black physicians up to par with the number of white physicians. This some- thing else is a massive expansion of the medical education system. Not as it exists today, but with a curriculum change so that a person of average in- telligence will be able to get through it. Only with such an expansion will this country ever solve its health crisis, a crisis most manifest among its poverty groups. Robert A. Johnson, ' 71 iHf Members of the class of 1970, in their sophomore year, instituted a program to improve the atmosphere at Downstate. These students acted as guides to show prospective freshmen around Downstate and extend a warmer welcome than had been given in the past. The philosopher must begin with medicine, and the physician must end with philosophy. Aristotle ' f -V: ours . . . Ernest Braascli Student Health Organization Richard Berkowitz . theirs ' I challenge the speaker ' s charge that we have one health care system for the rich and another for the poor. To us, there are no poor! Reprinted from the Chicago Sun Times AMA: an autopsy report At autopsy the AMA showed signs of marked recent loss of size. The scalp was balding; the residual hair was grey. The skin was devoid of melanin. The nose was blue. T he brain didn ' t weigh much at all. There was a lot of spleen. The G-I tract was riddled with obligate parasites of the Jolin Birch bacilli and the George Wallace cocci types. The spine was completely fused, indicating a total lack of flexibility at the time of death. Both fists were tightly clenched in rigor mortis. Forced open they contauied membership in the Best Country Club and a Diversified Stock Portfolio. Epicrisis: Unable to adapt to the obvious need for a ra- tional, humane, universally available system of health care, this dinosaur expired, leaving a hostile public and an alienat- ed profession behind to seek remedies which miglit cure the sick system the dinosaur bequeathed. . . . our country, right or wrong! Stephen Decatur toast given at Norfolk, April 1816 Our coitntry, rif ht or wrong. Wiien right, to he kept right; when wrong, to he put right. C- ' arl Sc ' hiir . Anti-imperialistic C onference Chicago, October 19, 1S99 March on Washington November 15, 1969 MORATORIUM DAY, DOWNSTATE, 1969 biafra medical relief Nonnan Chenven The Biafra Medical Relief program was initiated to raise money and collect drugs for the starving children of Biafra. The group at Downstate, headed by Norm Chenven, Murray Brown and Obinna Isiadinso, as- semb ' J $2,000,000 in drugs to be sent to the war torn country. Murray Brown Obinna Isiadinso theAFTOril NUMflER 3 ySBRU JtT.l ' efendsTransplants NUPSC LaCR BlndS SUM I t  e c ' « ' Freshmen P - New Ca vcean yoLlMAi I o«mb«r, 1967 StMtt ■ ' •=« ' •• - Editor ■IbMhia Aaa ' f ph.. J. t n.lg,r re£,l.. , There are olniouslv some limitations on our news dispersing capacity, but there is Uttle rein on our abihty to comment, evaluate, review and crit- icize We will try to exercise this latter ftinction discriminatelv, realizing that there are two sides to all issues and our opportunity to present both tair- ■ So, in its first editorial, began the Appendix in December 1967. The article went on to note: The vacuum we hope to fill is one generated by student interest in Downstate as a community. Unfortunate- ly it may be necessary for the Appendix to attempt to ' create an extra-utilitarian image of Downstate in its readers ' minds in order to justify its existence. The Appendix has come a long way since its in- ception, but its goals are still far from bemg realized. It was begun by Joe Ryan and Fred Isaac- son to provide a student voice at Downstate as we! as to act as a rumor killer. SAMA, with Andy Gold- stein its head, and advertisements paid for its first year The $500 contributed by SAMA that year rose to $1 000 from Student Council the following year to the $5,000 Council provides today. Its appearance improved monthly as the editors and the staff ot Brenda Marino, John Fleming and Barbara Goldblum overcame the problems of preparing copy for offset printing. Brenda Marino Andrew Goldstein Within weeks of the Appendix ' s first issue, another student publication reached our maillioxes. This was the New Cadueean Commentary. Mimeographed, it appeared monthly for the reniaindiM- of the i ' ar, providing a milieu for pro ()cati e tliscussion of current topics of interest to members of the Downstate community. Its edi- tors. Marc Straus and David Abraham, used this forum to discuss issues affecting Downstate in depth, drawing its articles from fellow students as well as faculty members. Not surprisingly, its first issue dealt with change at Downstate. Still another publication began that school ear. Reflex, the newsletter of the Medical Student Com- mittee to End the War in X ' ietnam, first came out in March, 1968. Its editors, Susan Krown and Murray Brown, thought Reflex would be a success if it managed to provide discussion, and even dissent, among those who have heretofore felt personally unin oKed and untouched by the war. Though the response to all these publications was unite fa orable, involvement in their production was minimal. Though many at Downstate have strong feelings against die war, few would con- tribute time or articles to Reflex, and, an almost one woman operation, it soon ceased publishing. The Commentary, relying as it did on only a single con- tribution each month, has been abl e to survive to the present, though its appearance has become somewhat sporadic. The Appendix, too, has under- gone involution. From a paper actively seeking out news of interest to the Downstate community, it has become a more opinionated, less fact-oriented, publication. In its desire to promote controversy, it has lost sight of most journalistic tenets and now exists al- most solely for polemic and provocation. While such an approach may provide a modicum of enter- tainment, it is not one that will lay the groundwork for future staffs. In this sense, the Appendix may be self-destructing— even Eric Rackow and Kay DueFrene will sometime have to pause for breath. It is difficult to understand how these publica- tions can be languishing in a Center where students are continuously clamoring for a voice. Is our train- ing here so vigorous that students cannot find the time to participate? Are they still afraid to speak up. - ' This year ' s Appendix shows that some are willing to take a stand. Since Downstate is not in the habit of issuing press releases to the Appendix. students must look for the news and ask questions about the goings on around them. Lack of interest in extracurriculiir activities portends uninterest in the school in general. Commitment to Downstate is the first great step in developing a feeling of com- munity here. It is up to the student lx)dy to decide w hen they are going to make it. Josepli Ryan David Abr iham Frederick Isaacson self expression Dr. Charles Plotz Ronald Goldfinger, 71 LawTence Silverman, ' 71 Controversial Portrait of LBJ Dr. Arthur Kaufman, ' 69 self education o the coordinators. ■ ree Vln iversitii ( Salle ti vu ' pU Fall 1969 o i vsv .ve ' e oee ' ' :,oW ' :„v e ' „.vdv eoto . out , nvW 0 it ot New Age Folk e ' en ' Por, ■ o i? « f on All lovers of folk music, wheth ranr , ' cu . are invited to y ' Oqu sc J W o f on- ,, - an thing r ; correy,,,- ' : s . oC ' ' - P .- ■ ' ' ' and experience the pure aesthetic enjoyment o ' f ' Uon , r, ' ' ' ' theory Z ' ' - U, banjos, ha. 5, anything ' u ' ' J ' hc:o, f Oc,e.. ' ' ° Oo ' thin, tha ' g - ' .. T 5 are. .1 ' ' ' r,,;l --. - vstetfts coutse thing tha S- ' i, ' ' «- Af;„ ' ' 3c ,r, ' rvs . ertis The N. ;.c e; Z f-c.- -- ' , ,.V Systems meetin . r ,e y nt 7-,- . ,, socta ' i ' ' ; dvftetent , otkvng ° - Tir . ° he . nt e t- _ ., and P°,._ ,ed to tl ev . tioos P -dins on ,he , E- ™«   Encounter Groul ' • ' ° ---«  ? ' ' ' ' EMe indicate i„,„ ° ' '  ■ i T , d4„: In Hit. ' 1™ «- -«-■ DissCve ,h. enc,.., ,.. ' ' ■ . an Red Cross Lifesaving pllpan-s ,.ccessK,„ - co.pW. ' en«r.nr„- ;„;; ;:;- ---- _ -.ve -.« s „c.,on course w.lUeceive .he Ar, ,„ mndnes. Escape into the Lnt.nta tZ h I . S.„g cettifeate. Those ahead ,eco,„,t,o„ and de.an.. .- • ' ' . ,t ' ™v — T Theory anti Practice of Field Orn.thology be held in the • 1 = Discover the fascinating - corning t uu.. and nearby -- l ds sLcif c times and places to are the seed for these birds, bpecitic announced. rathon encounter world of birds ' ' .;; ' ; ' ° ° be announced. I be self evaluation HONOR CODE PREAMBLE The establishment of an Honor Code at the Downstate Medical Center is an acknowledgement of our need to affirm the ethical standards of the medical profession, and our awareness that a personal commitment to these standards properly belongs at the beginning of a medical student ' s education. ALL STUDENTS AT THE COLLEGE OF MEDICINE UPON REGISTRA- TION ARE PLEDGED TO ACCEPT THE ETHICAL STANDARDS OF THE MEDICAL PROFESSION, TO USE THESE STANDARDS IN A CONTINUAL PROCESS OF SELF-EN ' ALUATION, AND TO EXERCISE INTEGRITY IN ALL ACADEMIC SITUATIONS. It is our exi licit resolution to affimi the Honor of our chosen profession, to iden- tify ourseKes with it, and to assume now the responsibility or its existence. When any member of this academic community becomes aware of a student ' s action, in the academic community, which is in violation of this code it is his obligation to inform the student of this misconduct. A student Honor Board will be available to said member if he deems that further action is necessary. Stephen LeSauvage Chairman of the Honor Board We felt that, as graduate students working toward a place in a profession where personal honor and responsibility are the very foundations upon which all is built, we had an obligation to take meaningful responsibilities upon ourselves. Now that we have an Honor Code we have the opportunity to prove ourselves in practice, for we have undertaken not only the utmost of responsibili- ties to our school, administration and fellow stu- dents but, most importandy, to ourselves and those who will come to us in need. 1 etit a petit toiseau hatitson nid Lawrence Seller Phvllis Roth Selter Kenneth Mar Ann Kiichta Mar Nancy Chase Wanderman Richard Wandernian Joseph Ryan n David Slovik Mark Ginsberg Michelle Michaels Ginsberg William Ramos Susan Gradstein Ramos it Beverlv Rossi Neil Levine Louise Richman Levine Joseph Markenson Alicejane Markensc Elinor Sverdlik Kron DOWN ST ATE FEELS THE CHANGE .0. 0-0 : e ' Bruno Bettelheim, noted child psychologist of the Univer- sity of Chicago says in the New York Times Magazine (January 11, 1970) that the trend to long hair does not represent intrinsic change, but normal revolution of fashion. In fact, we have not yet got back to the bared breasts of the French Revolution or the powdered wigs and lace collars of past eras. Two mushroom clouds mark the impassable bar- rier of the generation gap — so says Margaret Meade, that venerable prophetess of the coming of age of man. This dawning of the Atomic Age serves to weld the earth into a common bond: the capability of facing simultaneous and total destruction. Soul- sickening brotherhood, this, and still not really grasped by those on the nether side of the gap. If this is true, tlie Class of 1970 is in a schizophrenic position. Some of us were toddlers when that horror tore the skies, and some of us had not yet seen the light of day. The Class of 1974, who will inherit those tiny caverns of terror, our mail- boxes, are clearly post-Bomb children— as clearly as those whose places we took were pre-Bomb. It is hard to say to what extent the Class of Change, 1970, is still held by ties to the other side of the gap. We were, after all, capable of trying to move forward in some special ways. But if clothes make the man, our role as transitional is apparent. Our tonsorial ventures are quite tentative, oiu clothing traditional. Perhaps it is kindness to a frightened and ill patient that should prompt the doctor to be among the last to adopt such changes; or perhaps the patient should be educated to realize that clothes do not make the man. Perhaps, finally, we can still belong to the now generation as we join the million-odd teenyboppers who have said to a complaining parent on the occasion of the Friday- night date, Daddy, it doesn ' t matter if his hair is long, as long as he keeps it clean. Lister smiles and rests easier in his grave. Lticil in till ' sktf witfi d ' uimonds . . . Tlie Beatles . . . tlutjU stone ifou irhcn yotirc all alone . . . Boh Dylan, Rdinij Day Women For the developing medical student, amassing knowledge is really only a means to an end. The real goal is the de elopment of an ability to be true to the scientific approach and to the Hippocratic concept. The contemporary medical strident must therefore approach the drug question from b () perspectives, a professional attitude as well as a per- sonal commitment. He must not allow one to inter- fere with the other. The Downstate communit ' s attitude toward tiie (hug scene must be deemed, in my opinion, unprofessional. Indeed, most of Downstate ' s faculty seems to be of the opinion that to deny its existence is to make it go away. This is certainly a highly irra- tional approach to an issue of such scope, depth and far reaching possibilities. Indeed, it seems inconsis- tent witli educational principles that I, as a medical student at Downstate, studied such subjects as phar- macology, medicine, psychiatry and environmental medicine without once being taught about any of the numerous facets of the contemporary drug scene. Furthermore, it is ironic that a dying depart- ment such as Environmental Medicine is blind to an area of medicine (tlie current drug scene), the inves- tigation of which could both rejuvenate the field and provide answers to many of the plaguing ques- tions. Because of botli personal and professional tionnaire-type survey which embraced many of the basic issues and which was answered by several thousand students. Downstate students comprised a sizeable part of the graduate student sample and, therefore, the results of the study are as much about them as anyone else. Use of drugs varied depending on such things as an individual ' s sex, .social class, sexual experience, mood, and type of residence. But one facet of the drug scene was clearly a common denominator for all subgroups; In 1965, drug use began to rise and it has increased progressively ever since. This finding, then, substantiates the popular opinion that drug use is on the rise in all areas. A ]ihenomenon such as this must be studied if we are to control its direction; if this does not happen, drugs may control us. It is likely that there are physiological effects of drug use that mave neither been conceptualized nor investigated. Furthermore, many of the psychological and sociological issues and implica- tions of drug use are both complex and subtl e. For example, undergraduates demonstrate patterns of drug behavior much more extreme in nature than graduate students. In addition, drugs are being used at earlier and earlier ages. What does this portend for the future development of such individuals. ' ' I submit that these and many other questions Huist be answered in an unbiased way. I also con- tend that tlie archaic taboos regarding drugs with which our parents and teachers grew up have made manv of these individuals unsuitable for the objec- tive investigation necessary. But objective inves- tigation is precisely wliat is neetled if we are to practice good medicine with regard to the drug scene. I believe that it is we who must take the initiative because it is we who can approach the question with sensitivity. But we, on the other hand, caught up in a mushrooming social movement that in many instances does not allow for freedom of tliought or dissension, must not get too caught up in it so that, professionally, we cannot be objective. Jeffrey Anker, .M.D. Class of 1969 ' The Ballot. The ote for president preeeded that of the rest of the class officers. President— Vote for ONE: Secretary — Vote for ONE: Mike Merson Rochelle Haimowitz Bob Larsen Darrel Miller Vice-President — Vote for ONE: Delegate — Vote for TWO: Ferd Sauer . Bob Lasser Dave Slovik Nancy Chase Treasurer Mike Klein Jerry Schofferman ( inopposed) The Spring election for class president was more meaningful to our class than that of the previous year. Having lived, worked and been frustrated in one way or another here for almost a year, we felt our enviionment was, if not less ahen, at least more familiar. The class knew its members better and had shared the common experience of the courses, tlie pressures, the examinations and the evaluations. Regarding the class presidency itself, the concen- sus was that the office was not desirable. It was a tough job, demanding long hours, and many wanted or needed more time for their studies. A good number sought greater involvement in the educa- tional process here, but not to die extent of a class president; they opted to become Freshman ad- visors. Many distrusted members of the administra- tion, or feared the possible consequences of tlie necessary conflict involved in the presidency. The class had a more vital interest in the outcome than it had previously. It looked to the president to act in its behalf as a go-between, negotiating grievances and shuttling test dates. To say that there was, or is, an operative student government here would be inaccurate. Student Council is what the name implies— a council of students, functioning for the most part in counsel- ling students, faculty, and administration— but not governing the student body. This generated a cer- tain ambivalence on the part of the students con- cerning the outcome of Council elections. Bob Larsen and Mike Merson announced for the class presidency. Their campaigns were clean and nondivisive. They spoke to the issues, presented their platforms and let the class decide. Larsen cited the considerable dme and effort he had put into the job, and the class debated as to whether it would be wise to change horses in mid-stream; especially because the next president would serve a three-year term. Merson addressed himself to active change in the workings of the medical school, and the class debated the credibility and political feasibility of these goals. Both were almost equally convincing. Mike won the election by eight votes and took Bob on as a presidential advisor. The election over, a vehicle to change die condi- tions here soon loomed on the horizon. There was going to be a conference of student representatives, faculty and administration come the Summer. Things were looking up. Princeton cookie sale June 1967 BRAVE OLD WORLD Some pre-oriented, tliey were all oriented. Most were demythologized of a rumor diey had never heard; namely, that there was a mandatory flunk-out quota. They were addressed as the most junior members of the medical profession ; and, thralls, tliey were questionnaired, Rorschached, sociologically surveyed (no results ever given them) and filed. Sensitization. A few days later it began in earnest. The first biochemistry lecture covered the college equivalent of a week and a half and it quickly became apparent that anatomy was not just another biology course. The former course promised four exams; the latter, eight. One of them did not even make it into December. They don ' t fool around here. Anamnestic response — complete. They were in limbo For most this was the culmination of many years of hard, very hard, work. Many had seen their careers riding on every college exam they took. Some had been on the railroad longer — since grammar school- clawing and pawing their way up, often to the exclusion of anything that did not have a grade riding on it. And now this. Fact-dense lectures, poor notes, tests piled on tests, no respite, urinalysis, lab practicals, quizzes, back-to-back finals. Scoring high on an examination did not seem important anymore. Survival was the objective. Stephen Green Dr. Magill ' s refusal to allow students to leave an examination room for the purpose of going to the bathroom represented a serious lack of recognition of the needs and desires of the present-day medical student. Let me make myself perfectly clear about this point. I do not object to Dr. Magill ' s decision on jurisprudential grounds. Although the Eighth Amendment of the Constitution of the Unitied States prohibits cruel ana unusual punishment, a legal mind surpassing that of Oliver Wendell Holmes wou ' d be necessary to challenge Dr. Magill in the courts. I do not ascribe to the philosophy of Sherlock Holmes that some of man ' s best thinking is done in the W.C., nor do I agree with Camus ' practice of retiring to the loo so as to be alone with one ' s work. And I certainly do not regard the bathroom as the oasis of refuge to which Alexander Portnoy was driven. My basic objection to Dr. Magill ' s reasoning is considerably more simplistic. As a former student of medicine, I am con- vinced that Dr. Magill suffered through the same anxieties we have known. And, as a man of science, he understands the parasympathetic discharge of the autonomic nervous system when the mental capacities of the student of microbiology are challenged by an interesting and intricate intellectual exer- cise. I therefore criticize Dr. Magill for his lack of understanding and human empathv concerning the most natural of biologic laws. Repent, Dr. Magill! Love Thv Fellow Man! Bcrkinvilz The ' hung on tenaciousK ' to tlie Juggernaut and the anatom and hioclieniistrx ' endternis came and went. The heat was off. Most had proven themselves and most reverted to type. Many discovered that not onl - could one pass a course here, one could H it. Some hopped back on die raihoad and thrust themselves into making as competitive as possible die non-competitive grading sxsteni. The medium liad become the message— iis it was in college. Each brought with him his own special skills and hang-ups. Each wanted to do well and had no intentions of upsetting the applecart by breaking lock-step. They were quiet and meek— a few beards iuid staches, but neat. Ha ing brushed b ' die campus revolt on their way out of college, this was a definitely un-Aquarian group. They laughed at a suggestion made in histology that they group togedier to make sure they received all the material. (After all, the gu - next to you can ' t learn the material for you. Your buddy can ' t get you an S, certainly not an H.) And instead, loners as they had been in college, these scholastic knights-errant (-arrant) endured the niultilinguality of the physiology department and channelled their energies into the compulsive logorrhea of that facult ' s examinations and lab reports. They stuck it out through the inanities of environmental medicine and coped with the frustrations of neuroanatomy, the stud - of minutiae. Noses to the grindstone, they put their heads downi and ploughed through. As one year slid into the next (Over a not endless summer), they found themselves tumbling in oblivion. Job-like, they were swallowed up, and like automatons they regurgitated answers on command. Alan Melton: Students should speak up on hou, but not what, to teach. Dana Charrv Charles Feldman: As demonstrated by the iconoclastic actions of our class, we can provide worthwhile directions to the learning process. It is an encouraging sign that we as future practioners of medicine are willing to accept the challenge of greater personal involve- ment, as professed by the youth of our generation. Stephen Baumgarten Formless, they streamed in and out of a concrete slab wnich bore not a name, but a description: State University of New York, Downstate Medical Center, College of Medicine, the professional birthplace of Carl Coppolino and the two-year residence of a man who slew his mother-in-law on LSD. There was no morale, no esprit de corps, among them and they were as insensitive to diat as they were to each other. Humbled by tlieir layman ' s attitude toward the profession they were entering, they kept the rule in Trappist silence —well, almost. There were and had been rumblings from tiine to time. There were hisses and boos for the more egregious lecturers (applause for the better ones) and crescendoes of groaning when lectures took a turn for the worse (once to the extent that an histology professor, caught reading too fast, felt impelled to momentarily stop his lecture and take a few paces backward— and later complained to the director of student affairs). They were indignant over microbiology ' s Bladder Rule and even vocally opposed that department ' s chairman when he, not unlike Queeg, attempted a showdown with their president before them. Rita Fischer: Of course we should and must have a voice in moulding the nature of our experience at Down- state. Students who have so much at stake must take the lead in endeavoring to reshape medical school cur- ricula to meet the needs of our time. George Raniolo: A belief that the powers that be were best able to initiate needed changes was proba- bly responsible for the delay- in student involvement in Downstiite ' s affairs. We now know that continued student pressure is essential. Perhaps it was the insecurit - (or annoyance) generated by the continuous challenges to their competence inherent in the endless parade of unnecessary testing; perhaps it was the patently uncaring attitude of man - instructors as to whether their sallies into the lecture hall were effectixe; perhaps it was just pressure and tension, real or ersatz; perhaps it was the existential paradox of the place — whatever: tlie mood, almost from the ver - start was ugly. But there were established avenues of approach for the dissipation of such ugliness. Richard Kallus y James Boyd Allan Wald: Students should act through professional means. Harvev BrouTi There is nothing like symptomatic treatment to salve the status quo. The first-year gripe session filled the bill admirably. There they could complain about this and criticize that, ofttimes vehemently, and be attended by the ear of sympathy and tended by the hapless hand of atony. Then there was the Princeton conference, which solved everything and nothing, but imparted the glow of Accomplislunent to their participating representatives. Catharsis and conquer: bureaucratically stale, perhaps, but of proven effectiveness when dealing with the iminitiated. And if all else failed, there were the ambiguous, changing, free-floating, and overla pping lines of authority in die organizational diagram. Parkinsonian piece de resistance, this fostered the feeling that they were somewhere on the immuno-gaussian curve: no coordinates, no frame of reference and no way of pinpointing who, precisely, was to bhime. This often nipped trouble in the bud, sometimes before. The months marched on and it whirled about them and these non-persons in a non-place sat in the vortex and did nothing. Passive acquiescence. Donald Brennan: While I can ' t deny that the faculty has had more experience in the ways of education, I cannot see how the faculty, in turn, can fail to recognize that the students are in the best position to detect inefficien- cies of a given course. These inefficiencies are passed on from year to year because the faculty didn ' t listen. .e Jeffrey Lavigne Stanley Rubin: If one elects to join an institution and is dissatisfied with it, he has three reasonable alterna- tives: leave the institution, work for change within the rules, or work for change in any manner, facing the consequences. It appears that there are too many dis- satisfied individuals at Downs t ate who choose either no alternative, or only part of one. Roy Berger L Appro. iinatel h o hundred separated individuals, eaeli sought his owni ends. They wanted to niiike good, wanted to get that degree, and were not really concerned about what, if anything, concerned or happened to their fellows. As a class, unity did not extend much beyond their coincidence of time and space. Ph sical diagnosis was beginning and perhaps the clinical years would make them feel like doctors, perhaps the clinical years would be challenging and interesting, perhaps the clinical ears would be more like they had expected medical school to be. In any event, the halfwa ' mark was fast approaching and so what if there was not much of a correlation between the basic and clinical sciences, so what if they were not treated as adults here, so what if the instructors were hired primariK ' for their research, and not teaching, expertise; so what if the - had to succeed in spite of the system and not because of it, so what if they were medical peons and graduate lackies and the accent was on the most junior and not members of the medical profession .... You don ' t need a weatherman to knoic which way the wind l lows. s f vi ; ' ' u-F r A . The seeds of student unrest had been sown at tlie eoinniencenient of our medical education. They grew for two years, each seed within an individual heart. Our class had been very much like separate leaves on a tree, each blowing in the wind in its own way, each leaf separate yet a part of the same trunk with the same roots. The fruit of our tree was discontent. In the autumn of our medical school careers the many-hued leaves fell off their common tree onlv to be raked together in the same pile. As is the case with autumn lea es, some would be burned and some would blow away. The time of the events to be described was at the end of our second year of medical school, May-June 1968. The setting in which tliey took place is of great consequence. The first part of the National Board e.xams in medicine loomed im- posingly just fourteen days ;ifter the completion of our last final. Finals week con- sisted of ten exams to be given over an eight-day period: ten e.xams in three departments. Pathology, Medicine, and Psychiatry. It all started the Friday morning of our first final (to be given tliat afternoon), die lab practical in Clinical Lab Medicine. Mitch Harman made an announce- ment at the end of our morning lecture session. He had learned from Mark Un- terberg, who had a friend at Upstate Medical Center, that the students there had proposed to boycott their exams. This proposal w;is in an effort to give the students more time to study for the board examinations. In some measure, it seemed, their demands had been met. Seizing upon the prevailing spirit of world- wide student unrest (which existed at the time, particularly in those weeks), he asked the second year class whether they would entertain undergoing a similar venture. This is where the second year student confrontation began, as an effort to gain more time to study for the National Boards. This simple goal was to change . . . twice! It was also to become far more complex. Our first meeting was to be a prototype for those which were to follow. It was also to serve as a springboard off which came many questions we were often to ask ourselves during the many days of numerous meetings of our ordeal. Uppermost in our minds was the question of whether or not we had started too late: was it responsible to ask for the cancellation of exams on such short notice, within the day or even within the week? A counterargument to this question was that this was the last time we were going to be together as a class, not scattered all over tlie S. Mitchell Harman Mark UnterberK city or the world in hospital wards. Notably, if this was the last time we were going to be together it was also the first! The next question was whether to ask for the cancellation of all exams or just certain ones. A term which was going to be frequently employed during numerous debates between student and faculty and between student and student was soon introduced; that is, Learning Ex- perience. In the meetings that followed, students often were to ask, Is this particular exam going to be a learning experience? But from one question other (questions grow. Can a student truly assess what is and what is not a learn- ing experience? If he can ascertain this fact, does he nevertheless have die right to refuse to take a test which is not in his estimation a learning experience? The goal had shifted, changed, refocused. Students were no longer interested in the confrontation as an effort to gain more time to study for the boards. They were instead concerned with making an effort to cancel those exams which were not learning experiences! There was considerable debate about this too. Through many meetings, con- sensus was generally reached. Studying for tlie pathology written would help us in studying for the boards. The pathology written was sanctified as a Learning Experience. The other pathology exams were considered by the majority to be superfluous and of anxiety value only. It was too late to try to cancel the Clinical Lab Medicine practical. Though many felt that counting lit- tle cells in the microscope was of great esthetic value, it too was regarded as a questionable learning process. We took it anyway. All seemed in agreement that they wanted to take the Physical Diagnosis Practical. We were at an age when we still craved patient contact and were anxious to flaunt our ignorance in physical diagnosis before our respective preceptors. However, this gesture on our part truly demonstrated, if only to ourselves, 1) that we were interested in learning, 2) that we were not just interested in cancelling exams, and 3) that we had completely repressed the connection between the second year confronta- tion and the medical boards. There was no ulterior motive involved in our desire to take or not take a given exam! The other exams were subjected to the same sort of analysis, and of the ten or eleven scheduled, we agreed to take five or six. However, things were not as simple as this, for there were other factors as well as other parties— the faculty— involved. Not all students were in agreement as to how we should accomplish our aims or as to how far we should go. The more radical contingent would have favored boycott. The more conservative felt that students should, indeed, have no say at all in determining what exams they should or should not take. After all the rhetoric was ended, cooler heads did prevail. We decided to make requests, not demands. Pathology, under the supervision of Dr. Toreson (acting chairman) agreed to cancel the orals and practicals, leaving the written. He was never invited (left) John Korshin l H (right) Thomas Brunowski til speak to the class regarding his reasoning on this action, though the action it- silt was used as an argument against the other departments of instruction. Dr. Eichna of Medicine and Dr. Wolfe of Psychiatry were invited to speak at one of our class meetings regarding our retjuests. Each came with an armamentarium of notes and earplugs. Dr. Eichna furnished us with the analog of the long distance ruiuier who constantK ' trains so that he might one day achie e perfection. He stated his pur- poses in giNing the exams: 1) to e aluate the teacher and not the student onls ' . 2) to allow the student to recapitulate his knowledge and thus provide a learning experience, 3) to grade — which he described as of least importance! He did not at this time know that these principles were to become the cornerstone and founda- tion of the confrontation. Dr. Wolfe then spoke to the class. He had gone on record previously at the Princeton Conference as stating that departments do not consult with each other in gi ing exams. He felt that the close spatial proximity of many examinations causes great anxiet ' among the students. . t the beginning of the psychiatry course that %ear, he had indicated that only two exams would be given. We were now to recei e our third, the second ha ing been placed bet veen a microbiology and a pathology examination despite our protestations, . fter reiterating much of what Robert . sbell Dr. Eichna had said. Dr. Wolfe presented an interesting question. He asked how many of us would promise to study psychiatry on theii- own two weeks after taking the National Board exams. The 95 of the class who raised their hands were as- tonished when he then replied, Thank you, I just wanted to know; but I can ' t believe you. A very heated question and answer period followed each speaker. Dr. Eichna left convinced that he had prosyletized us. He offered no threats because he was sure we would, in fact, take the exams. Dr. Wolfe appeared more worried. It was clear to us that our questions were not being answered. The answers we received to many of the valid points we made seemed preconceived and unrelated to the questions we asked. When they left we were infuriated. FINAL EXAyiNATIW ■ ■• Name go . 4 69 ■■ Date Q(MVi fh Once again many radical voices rang out. Once again cooler heads prevailed. We realized quite a few things. They had not come prepared to listen. They did not regard us as adults. They could not trust us to study without the external superego threat of a test hanging over what was now our collective head. . voice in the crowd, Bob Asbell, came up with an ingenious suggestion. Why don ' t we take the exams but leave our names off the test paper? The comment was met by a standing ovation from an audience drifting despite itself toward boycott. The proposal provided a means of both evaluating the faculty ' s teaching ability and providing a learning experience for the students. Both faculty members stated that the purpose of the exams was not student evaluation. Therefore not signing our names would be of no consequence, except for two remaining implications. If we were not to divulge our names, students would automatically pass the exams, taking away from the faculty the right and ability to assign final grades. Furthermore, both students with potential honors grades and potential failing ones going into the finals would not be able to be fairly assigned to either cate- gory. Now the confiontation had evolved into yet another formulation. The word request had, in the heat of discussion, undergone a transformation to the term demand. Few students still questioned their right to dissent or demand. With the acceptance of Mr. Asbell ' s suggestion, a group of 200 individuals began thinking as one. For the first and the last time in our medical school career we were all together. What had originally started as an effort to gain more time to study for the boards had transformed into the question of whether or not the exams we were scheduled to take were truly a learning experience, and then became broader and more encompassing still. It had evolved into its final form: an ultimate protest of our two years of treatment (education) at Downstate. We had yet to consider grades. The class voted to abolish honors for the trimester in an effort to achieve unity. The non-act of not signing a name, but placing on the paper a code number, was proposed. Those students who were borderline or failing would have their numbers sent to the department involved so that they would have a chance to raise their grade to passing. Not signing the exam became not so much a gesture of defiance as one of protest. It seemed better than boycott, a more mature way of dealing with the situation. We had something valuable to prove, that we could be trusted to study without the fear of academic chastisement. At this point, many strange things began to happen. One member of the Department of Medicine called up a student and threatened him with failure if he did not sign his name on the exams. Letters began to ap- pear in our mailboxes. Students who were sure they were passing a course re- ceived information to the contrary. A new set of letters informed others that they were up for honors in Psychiatry, but that it was of utmost necessity that they sign their names on the exam. Rumors began circulating that the departments were planning to exchange the code numbers with each other, so that a larger list might be compiled from the students whose numbers were revealed to in- dividual departments in whose courses they were having trouble. Such were the events transpiring in this mature circle of professionals and professional students. In the end 95% of the class voted in favor of the resolution and most stuck to it. We did, however, suffer the consequences. Despite the fact that we had less time to study for our exams due to the many meetings and emotional involve- ment, we performed just as well on these exams as classes before us. However, fift} ' students failed one course or another. Four students had to repeat the year. Many of these failures were shrouded in mysterv ' . We had won much, but we had paid for it. Reaction was widespread, and most was of the reactionary type. Across the street, at King ' s County Hospital, many attendings and much of the house staff were against us. Even the student nurses regarded us with more than the usual disdain. Perhaps the secrecy was the problem. Little was actually known except by rumor. Our motives were not known; or, if known, not understood. We be- came in the eyes of many students radicals, a dirt ' word. Yet, there was support for us also, both from above and from below. When all was said and done, we had exercised a fundamental right in this country, the right to dissent. We had laid the foundation for many mo ' ements within many classes to follow. And then we took the medical boards, spread out, and blew our separate ways. An old man, going a lone highway, Came at the evening, cold and gray, To a chasm vast and deep and wide. The old man crossed in the twilight dim. The sullen stream had no fear for him. But he turned when safe on the other side And built a bridge to span the tide. Old man, said a fellow pilgrim near, You are wasting your strength with building here. Your journey will end with the ending day; You never again will pass this way. You ' ve crossed the chasm deep and wide. Why build you this bridge at evening tide? The builder lifted his old gray head — Good friend, in the path I have come, he said, There follows after me today, A youth whose feet must pass tliis way. This chasm that has been naught to me To that fair-haired youdi may a pitfall be; He, too, must cross in the twilight dim- Good friend, I am building this bridge for him. . non inous If more students, tchile still in medical school, can siiccessftdly participate in shaping their own educa- tional experiences and in shaping their small part of society as a whole, these students shotdd not only tend to approach their medical education with more en- thusiasm hut they should also he more apt to con- tinue their active participation in the larger society after they have graduated. Davis G. Johnson, Ph.D. The Class of 1970 pro ed the adage that medical students should be seen and heard. Not only heard, but listened to; not only listened to, but given responsibility for their education. Perhaps the ad- ministration and some of the faculty foresaw this coming of age when they drew the plans for the Princeton conference, a conference which, unfor- tunately, was just a dialogue with no decision- making power. The following Spring, after a year filled with local student movements and interna- tional turmoil, the Class of 1970 pressed for greater involvement in its education: the Mayday rebellion. This precipitated the faculty-student-administra- tion communication which overshadowed the Yale Conference in June, 1968. Ma da - was just a beginning, and the classes following took up the standard in conjunction with the Class of 1970 and on their own. What is the cause ? Increased communication and cooperation among students and faculty members, . ctive stu- dent participation on decision-making policy com- mittees: curriculum, admissions, executive faculty council, for example. Changes in medical educa- tion, making it more pertinent to the practice of medicine so that the student who negotiates the curriculum may one day also be the best physician. Increased awareness on the part of the Downstate Medical Center of the socioeconomic problems af- fecting the health of the patients it serves. The academic year 1968-69 set the stage for action and produced tremendous frustration among many student leaders and progressive faculty mem- bers. Changes were sought, explored, and planned. but little was produced. Committees issued reports on curriculum changes, but the only changes visible were minor ones in biochemistry — coming through direct student protest. Student activists against the ' ietnam war, for Biafra relief, and for Black ad- missions did much talking and petition signing, but locally and nationally reaped few rewards for their efforts. Perhaps the time was still not right or per- haps what was needed was best stated by Dr. Walter Menninger in Challenging our Youth [National Commission on the Causes and Prevention of Violence]: All must acknoidedge the inevitability of change. The older generation can wear itself out trying to fight the tide or it can turn the energy of ycnith to advantage for the benefit of all. 1969-70 saw the Downstate Establishment mov- ing closer to action and change. Students de- manded it. The Class of 1973 and the biochemistry department agreed on voluntary laboratory attend- ance. Changes occurred in physical diagnosis and second-year psychiatry. Pharmacology is now scheduled after pathology. A student-faculty Cur- riculum Committee, with a $4,000 budget, has developed a totally revised curriculum. And the Executive Faculty Council now includes four stu- dents as voting members. However, other com- mittees and proposals have seen less success. What started as the Mayday rebellion has met some defeats and many stumbling blocks, but the vibrations of it have been felt here for two years and its effects will radiate to many classes that follow. TM RO-TE ts SCHEDULE 1 Ob, s 1 ■ 01  l ' ' ■ . --— i %1- :S ' ' „, ,.„.._ - ' ■ t I 06, it... P.- ' _ nssT TK FHIRD YEAR SCHEDULE TO9-W70 MCSTEB SECOND TflluESTER THIRD TRIMESTER. J F ' ' 0... t C. 1 Prf. S«. (ir S . 1 P.yrt. Sv.,. - p 1 n ' in 1 ' • - t 1 i6 THIRD YEAR CLERKSHIP EVALUATION Section (A-1) Dates on Sen ' ice Preceptors Attendings -Clerkship _ .Hospital(s) Ward(s). i. Evaluation of preceptors and attending physicians: ii. Evaluation of house staff: iii. Aspects of the clerkship which provided the most valuable learning experiences: iv. Aspects of the clerkship which were of little or no educational value: V. Suggestions for improvement of the clerkship: Leaving behind the laboratories and lecture halls for the wards of the various teaching hospitals, we entered the chnical years of our medical school training. At this time the class, motivated not only by the previous difficulties in communication be- tween students and faculty but also by the desire to make the most of the coming clinical clerkships, decided to institute a course evaluation program. Basically the program had two major goals, one short term and the other long term. The former was to provide, in the person of a section leader, a liason between the students on any given clerk- ship and the corresponding faculty. In this way any problems between students and house staff or in course organization could be quickly brought to the fore in an organized manner. It was hoped that this dialogue between students and faculty would quickly solve minor problems that arose during the clerkships. The second goal of the program was directed toward the general organization of the various clerkships. At the end of each clerkship, section leaders would distribute questionnaires to the groups of four to five students. In these question- naires students were asked to state which aspects of the clerkship were worthwhile and which were not. With this data, students in charge of evaluating specific clerkships could then approach the various departments and present to them the relative strengths and weaknesses of their clerkships. As successive sections rotated through the clerkships more data would be accumulated and progressive Steve Kimler evaluation of the clerkship made. The program work ed well for the first trimester. Evaluation was made in all departments, but with medicine and pediatrics receiving the greatest par- ticipation. There was 100% response from the students in medicine. When the results were pre- sented to the department, several faculty members objected to student criticism and naming names. In pediatrics, the student opinions were accepted more readily. Unfortunately, the section leaders became immersed in their clerkships and the pro- gram died. Biochemistry 1969; rebellion? The school year which began after Mayday saw the Department of Psychiatry request that the Class of 1971 select four representatives to form an ongoing committee of students and faculty, the puri:)Ose of this committee being to improve the existing structure and evaluative process of Psy- chiatry A and provide a meaningful framework for discussion of student concerns. The student participants were informed that a system of evaluation which would reduce student tension and provide intensive faculty-student con- tact was the committee ' s goal. They were told, however, that the course content was essentially determined. At the behest of the committee, the course was designed to include non-graded exercises v ' hich enabled the student to share his views with a faculty member and self-evaluate his progress in the course. It was hoped that by coupling these exercises with weekly seminars that evaluation would come automatically and without having to resort to ob]ecti e written examinations. Grades were determined by the preceptor ' s subjective evaluation of the student ' s contributions to group seminars and his performance on an endterm oral examination. Evaluation of students at Downstate during their preclinical years has notoriously taken the form of objective examinations, which highly structure the topics which the student must learn and recognize httle in the way of the student-as-individual. The Department of Psychiatry ' s willingness to modify this system and place the responsibility for eval- uating progress more in the hands of the student marked the first occasion in which the Class of 1971 was treated as graduate students. It is interesting that throughout the year feedback from faculty indicated that student performance was superior to that of previous years, another example of stu- dent responsibility in action. One wonders, though, when the Department of Psychiatry will abandon its almost religious cham- pioning of one school of psychiatric thought in favor of the more academically liberal method of teaching other thinkers as well. Freud was not Everyman, nor is the patient. .«iMUt ' MAlMPlMHH «JMfr m .- Life is short, and the Art long; the oc- casion fleeting; experience fallacious, and judgment diffictdt. The physician must not only he prepared to do what is right, but also to make the patient, the attendants, and externals cooperate. Hippocrates Dr. Jolin Crocco was chosen to take charge of the 1969 physical diagnosis course when Dr. Ghiser went on sabbatical — and take charge he did. He spent over si.x months prior to the start ot the course in going over the subject matter in meticulous detail. Most of the work was done after hours, and the many hours of labor paid off in the form of a very thick folder of well organized lecture notes, notes so complete that he could step in for any lecturer who failed to arrive for a scheduled talk. It was a lot of work . . . but I learned a tremendous amount. Great eflfort was expended in assembling a group of highly qualified lecturers from different depart- ments to discuss the examination of each specific body section. My aim is perfection and I will not be satisfied with a lecturer or preceptor who does not at least attempt to attain it . . . and I am not timid. If I don ' t tliink someone has given a com- prehensive and informative lecture, I will tell him. Dr. Crocco believes that good preceptors are the key to the course and expressed much interest in feedback from his students. Dr. Crocco made some changes in the course. He made taped interviews to better demonstrate the techniciues of history taking, and added four lec- tures at the end of the year to examine the patho- physiology of the heart, lungs, kidney, and joints. In addition, he moved up the final exam to lighten the June load. He felt that the concurrent scheduling of pa- thology and physical diagnosis was unfortunate in that the student would be better prepared for P.D. if he had previously completed path. This has since been remedied. Regarding curriculum change in general. Dr. Crocco feels that present curricula are inadequate. Courses should be more integrated and progres- sively arranged. It is of note that Dr. Crocco did not volunteer to take over physical daignosis; he was assigned the job. The task cost him much of his highly valued, and already too short, free time. ( Dr. Crocco is assistant head of the E-Building Chest Clinic. ) Yet he gave the course and its students an all-out effort and many at Downstate will be better physicians because of it. Is this medical school or graduate school? asked m - roommate. We were freshmen, it was Novem- ber, and we were being consumed by Anatomy and Biochemistr)-. His question was most appro- priate. After three months of arduous memorization of innumerable origins and insertions of innumer- able muscles, we were beginning to doubt our raison d ' etre. We had committed ourselves to the treatment of the sick and invalid. To our dismay, our studies seemed to bear no relationship to such lofty ideals. For months to follow we bemoaned our fate. Then one afternoon, after a tiresome day in the laboratory, we headed for the mailbox. The Ritual. We were pleasantly surprised. A letter in the box described the preceptorship program being formed by upperclassmen. We discovered that we were not unique in our fmstrations. The proposed pro- gram was an attempt to fill the void. Faculty members had been contacted, and they agreed to serve as preceptors. They would have students in the first and second years work with them weekly in a clinical setting — on the wards or in a clinic. It was hoped, by the organizers of the program, that the ex-posure to clinical medicine would serve to correlate clinical programs with the basic sciences. I chose Radiology. I had been fascinated with the wealth of information clinicians extracted from merely hanging negatives on a screen. I was as- signed to the Breast Tumor Clinic, which intro- duced me to clinical assessment of X-rays as well as the field of radiotherapy. My preceptor proved to be most understanding. He realized my obvious dearth of clinical knowledge, but even to a neo- phyte, a mass is a mass. The clinic abounded in pathology, and I soon became aware of the natural To study the phenomenon of disease with- out hooks is to sail an uncharted sea, while to study books without patients is not to go to sea at all. Sir William Osier history of breast pathology — primarily the oncology of the breast. My weekly three-hour sessions made me realize the enormity of what I had yet to learn. It also helped me realize that there was some necessity to studying what many would consider unnecessary trivia. My sense of gloom was some- what suppressed. I looked forward to the clinic, and the first year of medical school somehow ended. Tlie preceptorship program served several other purposes. For many of us this was the first occasion to see a physician in action, to see the doctor- patient relationship and understand the manner in which a diagnosis is made. We were impressionable and for the first time we were truly impressed. The program also had an effect on the medical school curriculum. Consequent to the success of the pre- ceptorship program, and a great demand by the students for a change in basic science education, many of the departments began to emphasize clinical correlation. This was but the beginning of a trend that will, hopefully, persist. Medical edu- cation at Downstate is in a state of flux. The pre- ceptorship program was one source of the mo- mentum for reform at Downstate. Sidney Ulreich orientation ' 66 With letter of acceptance still warm in our hands and the warm glow derived from the knowledge that our microscopes met all the requirements as specified by the Microscope Board of Examiners, we diffidently began orientation. Orientation neither began nor ended with the pep talks and psychological testing. Rather, it existed as a protracted series of subtle impressions. It began with a sneak preview, the June before the Fall after. Here we see an upper classman asked about what to expect and what to do the preceding summer and he, guffawing his answer, Have a real good summer, laughs all the way down the corridor, allaying no apprehension. Unscheduled orienting experiences did not end there. While jogging behind the crowd toward one of the bookstores with a list of books that were recommended, I began thinking of what equipment I might need. Some helpful suggestions overheard while being josded on the line were: For anatomy, my father recommended Tobin, Grant Atlas, Gray ' s Anatomy, Cunningham, and Pansky, for openers, and if you can afford a good atlas Hke Pernkoff or Sahotta you ' ll score on the practical. Cunningham is good for embryo and Gray ' s for fascial planes. . . . And there were questions. Somehow the spiral notebooks seemed fatter than usual. WTiy is that guy buying a big fat pen that writes in 24 colors? Did he say adhesive tape for labelhng of bony prominences? One sensed trouble when, following the announcement, We regard these nine o ' clock lectures as formal and this means no questions, if any, ' til the end, there ensued a barrage of im- portant points, overloading note-taking input and culminating in a frenetic scramble for missed points. Vacuously, you marvelled how anyone could have questions at this point other than, What the hell am I doing here? Another orienting experience was being eased into gross anatomy beginning with a lecture cautioning against maligning the cadaver with irreverent euphemisms and then mournfully entering the lab only to be ad- dressed: Welcome to gross anat- omy. Your instructors are and Today, we will begin with the anterior triangle, which you ' ve read about. For completeness, there was the mixer to acquaint you with the social swirl of freshman year. The mixer missed the mark. With vague quakes of uncertain- ty you proceeded to encounter further orienting forces such as the biochem assignment box, the school mailbox following the first The letters are out!, the first physio exercise in speedwriting, being penalized in histo for not illuminating the correct answer properly, and so on to the fourth year when you sniffed the new atmosphere of the internship hos- pital. Anthony Lechich orientation ' 69 And so each venture Is a neiv beginning, a raid on the inarticulate . . . In the general mess of impreci- sion of feeling. Undisciplined squads of emotion. T.S. Eliot During the winter monllis of 1969, the adminis- tration took its first action to place students on standing committees involved in running the af- fairs of the Medical Center. One committee in- vohed was the Student Affairs Committee, chaired by Dr. Marvin Stein. One of the first projects undertaken by the Com- mittee was to turn the program of orientation for incoming freshmen o er to a student-faculty group headed by Saul Wilen. Mission: plan Orientation ' 69. The students ' concensus was that in previous years orientation had been an abysmal experience, a period in which the student was preached at, examined, folded, punched, spindled, and muti- lated much like the long-suffering IBM card. At the suggestion of Saul Wilen, a whole new kind of orientation was concei ed. The idea was to introduce the new student to faculty members in both basic science and clinical departments on a personal and intimate level. We planned to use upperclassmen as guides for these small groups. In this way the first-year students would get the feeling that Downstate is a community of indi- vidual interesting and interested people with a common goal, rather than an impersonal factory with the new student as raw material. Fancy and fact are far apart, howe er. In order to plan and execute a closely coordinated program involving 200 freshmen, .35-40 third- and fourth- year students, and 50-60 faculty members over a two-day period, somebody has got to work. Some- bod) turned out to be Saul Wilen, Mitch Harmon, Nancy Leist, Beverly Rossi, Ed Moldowski, and Rose Migliore. By the time we finished getting in Dr. Moldowski ' s hair and running his secretaries ragged, the student affairs office must have wished we would turn into toadstools. Most faculty co- operated beautifully and the program took shape. Finally the big day arrived. Saul tossed down his .357th handful of Excedrin ( Excedrin headache 357 was . . . , well, let ' s not mention names) and addressed the new students. The rest is history. Out of chaos came order. Small groups of first-year students, along with in- terested upperclassmen and upperclasswomen, met faculty in their laboratories, offices, and on the wards. The program was astonishing (at least to us) in its successfulness. Conversation was lively. Rapport was the rule. Once again, the Class of 1970 had pro en that students and faculty can work together to improxc the Downstate community. We sincerely hope that future classes will con- tinue to expand and improve this and other pro- grams. It was a lot of fun. Mitch Harman Avery Stiglitz orientation 1 rW Dennis Gormley Lloyd Mitler T : 1 ' Nancy Leist Richard Musto Mclvin Markowitz Curriculum Committee The system of medi- cal education is almost medieval in its concep- tion and execution. We deal with a closed guild consisting of masters, journeymen, and appren- tices — highly ordered, highly structured and fairly rigid. If an appren- tice obeys the rules, per- forms his duties, follows procedures and proves loyal to the profession, he can pass from one stage to the next and eventually don his robe and place his hood around his neck. . . . How can we create a Cur- riculum for todays needs when we use such a sys- tem to create it. Dr. Burton Sherman the Appendix In the past two decades there has been much activity in the area of medical school curriculum. This was most likely stimulated by the ne ' cur- riculum at Western Reserve University Medical School in the early Fifties, which at that time was revolutionary, and sustained by the obvious need for change in current curricula. There has been much interest in curriculum revision in sunny Brooklyn as well. ' arious groups, sponsored by students, faculty, administration and interested individuals, have attempted to patch up, trim down, expand, and juggle our educational program. UntO now none of tliese groups have been able to arrive at a program which would be agreeable to all of the parties afFected. In spite of tliis interest, why has there been no significant change until now? First of all, there is difficulty in getting all of tlie constituents to agree on the goals of a new curriculum. Students want to learn in a comfortable atmosphere and be able to serve the community; moreover, they feel they deserve stimulating teaching. Administrators want to pacify their benefactors in Albany and keep all Bernard Wurzel: The role of medical education in the growth and development of a physician should include adequate emphasis on the social and psychological aspects of illness, as well as the clinical and basic sciences, ade- quate room for independent pursuit of knowledge and personal interests, sincere teaching and able advisors, and, in general, treatment of future physicians as adults respon- sive to human need and not as mechanical robots. groups at the Medical Cente r content. Basic sci- entists want to produce experimental investigators, and clinicians have their patients and research to contend with as well as house staff and student instruction to consider, not necessarily in that order. Another major factor hindering curriculum re- form is the difficult)- in coordinating all of the efforts to bring about change. Usually if people confer with each other and discuss what they are doing, much working at cross purposes can be avoided. Since there has not been a specific com- mittee to consider curriculum re ision in the past, only discord prevailed. Curriculum change is a continuous process; therefore, a final product is ne% ' er attained. This brings up the difficulty of evaluating any changes that are made. How does one go about evaluating a new curriculum? In that we are scientifically oriented, our first impulse is to set up a controlled experiment, preferably double-blind. This would have to involve many different medical schools and a great deal of time and resources. The next ap- proach is to evaluate the final product, the grad- uate physician; but feedback would be delayed considerably and a great deal of bias would be introduced because he received his training at other institutions besides Downstate. Undoubtedly there are many problems involved in effecting changes in a large bureaucratic institu- tion; however, essential to any combined effort at the Downstate Medical Center is an atmosphere of trust and mutual respect. Without this atmos- phere all efforts are fruitless. To overcome these difficulties a committee as established. The immediate event which precipi- tated its formation was the defeat of the curriculum proposal offered by the administration in May, 1969. The Facult - Assembly then formed a committee of facultv- members who met with a counterpart stu- dent committee elected through Student Council. These committees then merged to form the present Student-Facult ' Committee on Curriculum Devel- opment and Revision. But why, the medical school having offered a standard curriculum for so many years, is a major change now deemed feasible at Downstate? Change — via evolution or re% ' olution — is the pre- vaifing atmosphere in universities today. Student protests, faculty walkouts, and administration res- ignations are widespread. These, along with more democratic forms of governance and a greater emphasis on social issues, have become a part of the educational experience. The precedent for cur- riculum change is standard. Leila Mai Pang John Sokolowicz Robert Shamsey Susan Covey Samuel Chemy: The August, 1966, issue of the Atlantic Monthly contained an article by a rather young physician entitled Our Primitive Medical Education. At that time I felt this was blas- phemy and the author a heretic, but four years later... That a separation should ex- ist between the basic and clinical sciences or that a student must wait until the eleventh hour before he e. - amines a patient ( no, a per- son) in his home, clothed and not stripped of his identity, suggests only a hint of the glaring need for change in our medical edu- cation. Kenneth Winaker Victor Tseng kk Ira Kaufman: Downstate s curriculum has suffered from stagnation. Our lecture and lab routines were the same boring ones en- dured by the Class of 1960. In the Spring of our sophomore ear we decided to do something positive to make this a more meaningful educational experience. Isolated small changes have been made over the past three years, but the Curriculum Committee indicates that education at Downstate will be brought from the 1950 s to the 1970 s. If the new curriculum is not innovative at least it seems to catch up to those schools that are. It is clear from the curriculum coinmittee ' .s initial fact-finding activities that almost everyone at the medical school is in agreement about the need for change. Given this, one of the principal factors in its favor is the combined effort of students, faculty, and administration in developing a new curricu- lum: The committee has attempted to involve as many people as possible in its deliberations and, presently (January, 1970), over 150 have partici- pated. All of those individuals not directly involved in the planning will have the opportunity to voice their opinions at a scheduled series of open hear- ings. The following are the goals set forth for the proposed new curriculum: The curriculum seeks 1o train students to become competent in the maintenance arul promotion of healtli and in the prevention and treatment of ilbiess. This competence rests upon achievement of a shared core of knowledge and skills. At the same time, diversity among students and diversity in the functions they may choose to perform as physicians require variety in opportunities for training. Of the vast fund of knoivledge relevant to effective medi- cal practice, only a relatively small portion can be mastered by the student during his time in medical school. This makes it all the more important that medical school training emphasize the development of capacity for independent pursuit of knowledge. The siudent should be firmly grounded in the bio- logical and clinical sciences relevant to modern medicine and he should be helped to develop an orientation toward man which takes account of his psychological side and of the social milieu in which he functions, in view of the importance of these factors in maintaining health, and in causing illness arul influencing its course. An empha.sis on the maintenance and promotion of health also carries with it the requirement of an adequate under- standing of normal development and functioning. The ne.xt few years are a very crucial period for the Downstate Medical Center. The development and growth of the schools of health related profes- sions and nursing and the graduate school can contribute many important resources. The selection of a new dean for the college of medicine as well as the changeover of many medical school depart- mental chairmen will offer fresh ideas and insight into the problems we are facing. Soon there will be a new system of governance at the medical center to help bring about needed changes. The medical school has always had a strong student body and a solid faculty. With all of these factors in our favor, a new well-developed medical school curriculum will enable the Downstate Medical Center to be more eflFective in its ultimate goal of serving the community in the best possible way. Robert Sipzener Cardiology Middlesex Hospital England Go West, young man. . . . Horace Greeley Life is short; live it up. Nikita Kruschev It was November, 1968 — early in our third year — when Dr. Pamell called an assembly of the class to introduce us to the philosophy and mechanics of the elective program for the fourth year. We lis- tened intently, but for most what was being ex- plained was too many months away to be relevant. We left with die general impression that the major part of the year would be elective, to be spent on clinical or research clerkships of our choosing. Dr. Pamell emphasized the philosophy of the school was that the majority of our elective period should be spent in Brooklyn — at the Medical Center or in institutions affiliated with it. Some returned to the demands of dieir clerkships relieved that the fourth year was still months away. Others, well informed by upperclassmen, began applying for elective clerkships in Brooklyn and beyond. By the end of the year, the consensus was that the elective period would serve a very useful role in our educational development, and, despite con- fusion regarding the exact length of the required trimester, most had definite ideas about the way they were going to spend their elective time. Some started their elective studies in the summer months, many traveling to Europe and Isreal to study in hospital centers — combining clinical ex- perience with a vacation abroad. It was difficult to discern which aspect was more profitable and enjoyable. In the Fall, upon their return to Brooklyn, there were many slides to be shown. Many went to the West Coast — Los Angeles and San Francisco, particularly — undoubtedly encour- aged by the balmy climate, pleasant surroundings, and fine reputations of the institutions they were going to work in. They were impressed with the facilities and the caliber of the people under whom they worked. Those who were overwhelmed re- turned convinced that this was where they wanted to spend their internship. Some aspects of the elective program were un- popular. We questioned why die Department of Medicine insisted on examining all students taking electives in their discipline. We stressed that our final year was a time for the individual to assess Wallace Goodstein: The reason I left Downstate tor my fourth year electives is quite simple — I had the opportunity to do so. Many seniors complained that their electives here were run as if they weren ' t e en present. The system of free electives makes up for some of the deficiencies of the elec- tive courses given here in the sense that it not only gi es the student a chance to see what medicine (and life) are like in different parts of the country and world, but also gives him some of the responsibility in shaping his own medical education. For this reason I feel that the present .system of electives should be maintained, though a strong effort to improve elective courses here at Downstate is warranted. r 4 w«« Marvin Frankel for himself his level of knowledge and deficiencies, a time when we should be treated as mature col- leagues. Many students wondered about the merits of the required trimester, environmental medicine being especially singled out as a useless endeavor. On the whole, though, the feeling was that the elective program was a success. Most of us were impressed by the freedom to choose disciplines of our own liking. Although Downstate offered us the core of our medical education, many felt it val- uable — if not imperative — to evaluate the merits of other institutions. It was a period of time to help satisfy not only present educational needs but also those of the future — internship and residency. ' e will undoubtedly remember the fourth year at DovvTistate as the Year of Academic Freedom. It was a time in our development within which we were able to pursue our intellectual curiosity. It was a time when important decisions were made. But most of all it gave us time for reflection. Time to evaluate ourselves as human beings and phy- sicians. Edward Brosnan Charles Schwartz . - John La Mont Infectious Diseases Los Angeles Count ' Winston Kipp Gastroenterology Uni ersit ' of Oregon Rosalyn Kutcher Hematology Mt. Sinai (New York) Paul N ' uccio Cardiology St. Luke ' s (St. Louis) Joel King Renal Medicine University of Colorado Michael Demos Renal Medicine University of Colorado Paul Pfeiffer General Surgerv ' Oiieens Medical Center Honolulu James Zolli Tropical Medicine Paris, France Home, sweet home. Alan Gumer r) Carl Lopkin Lawrence Cohen Michael Kalm: My prime concern in staying at Down- state was facultj ' . During my first three years, I have come in contact with doctors who have greatly impressed me and with whom I desired a more sustained rehitionship. Robert Kulak: In addition to the many educational op- portunities at Downstate, I felt that only by staying here would I be able to devote my full attention to the many important decisions which stud the senior year. Alan Fligiel Frankland Cheung: At SUNY, there are many good electives to choose and I have enjoyed them. Dennis Cirillo Arthur Chausmer i I I I when a simple, earnest spirit animates a college, there is no appreciable interval be- tu ' cen the teacher and the taught — both are in the same class, the one a little more ad- vanced than the other. So ani- mated, the student feels that he has joined a family whose honor is his honor, whose wel- fare is his own, and whose interests should be his first consideration. Sir William Osier Creating a physician :x In September, 1966, a student looking East from the residence halls would have seen a large back- yard covered with cinderblock, an occasional weed or tuft of grass, and a random touch football game. Four years later, that same student would see an odd looking concrete building reminiscent of a blockhouse at Cape Kennedy done in a style known to some as warehouse modern. The Student Center was proposed by the State University approximately eight years ago, but with its usual bureaucratic efficiency it took four years to break groifnd and another two before the build- ing was completed. At the beginning of our second year, a Student Council committee was set up to help plan the use Robert Larsen of the building. Presented with a building which we could use as we wished as long as Albany did not object, we began to plan for the card rooms, record players, student offices, gym equipment and all die things that are now part of the building. As we planned, the contractors built and Albany objected. Finally, in July, 1969, the building was completed— or so we thought. We still had to contend with a warped gym floor and various minor adjustments. In September, 1969, a Centenvide committee was called for to meet and establish a governing board for the Student Center. The end result of this meeting was the Student Center Governing Board, which consists of students from all four Medical School classes and representatives from the School of Nursing, Graduate School, and College of Health Related Professions. With its inception the Gov- erning Board became the first Medical Center com- mittee to be comprised of students and only students. The committee has been and continues to be the prime mover of the Student Center, working to overcome state red tape and get things rolling. At present basketball and volleyball leagues have been organized, the student offices opened, and an art show and several films presented. Despite many problems, the Student Center promises to become the social center of the uni- versity, bringing students and faculty together and providing a respite from the day-to-day routine. ' ■■■■■■■■SI ■f IBBBIIII ■BBBBIIBII iBBBfllllil STATE UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL ' incent Mascatel- lo: I would rather be in Philadelphia! Jerome Schoffer- nian: How many people even knew mv name ' : I ' ■■BB lllllll iiniii III!!! Il!l!!l iiniii lilllll ■llllll Can,- Classcr: Expansion at Downstate? How can one decide to rejuvenate an old body which has suffered from a hfetime of economic and physical arteriosclerosis? Unless you do a radical procedure, com- parable to a transplant, the prognosis is hopeless congestive failure. Alfred Frontera: The expansion and re- ' Marcone newal of the Downstate and Kings County facilities has long been overdue. The new expanded physical facilities are, however, only part of what is needed. Accompanying the expansion of the plant, there must be, more importantly, a renewal, rcdedication, and expansion of the personal interest and involvement of every individual concerned with the Downstate Medical Center. iMiili ' li ' l ; . „ fififffirf ' ■ ■• • Alvin Reiter Christinia Ukrainski «P «t Marlene Bass Peter Schwartz o William Pearl Daniel Goodman Edward Petreshock Approximately halfway tlirough his last com- paign, Mayor John V. Lindsay declared the Kings Count) ' Hospital in a state of emergency and put the Crash Program into operation. The County ' s sedate architecture was defaced with bright orange signs, additional monies were alloted and Health Services Administrator Terenzio was permitted to contract directly, bypassing usual city channels, for necessary services and equipment. On July 1, 1970, the County will be divorced from the cit) ' and become part of the New York City Health and Hospitals Corporation. Patterned after the Port of New York Authority, the Corpora- tion has for its main thrust the extrication of city hospitals from the considerable red tape involved in their day-to-day operation. Under the new ar- rangement, the state has mandated the city to provide a dollar floor for the hospitals ' operation which varies with the purchasing power of money in the econo my and the percentage of hospitals ' revenue deri ed from Medicare and Medicaid. A now da - dawning? Sidney Tessler: At KCH services need im- provement even more than facilities. Lah services need expanding. The escort service should be increased so that students or in- terns need not waste time bringing patients to and from X-ray. when you ' re alone And life is makin you lonely You can always go . . . Downtown. —Song When we arrived at Downstate, it was a medical center composed only of a College of Medicine. Formerly the Long Island College Hospital School of Medicine, now under the aegis of the State University of New York, its charge was to expand to paramedical education. The word over the last four years has been proliferation. Now we have a Health Sciences Center. The College of Health Related Professions, with physical therapists, die- ticians, occupational therapists and computer sci- entists, a School of Nursing and a Graduate School have moved stage-center on the Downstate scene. Four years ago, three physical therapists joined our ranks and the trend was on. The following year, their ranks swelled to the point where they commanded several tables on the inside aisle of the cafeteria and, thus amassed, medical students took notice. Some began to wonder what impact Downstate ' s expansion would have on education within the medical school. There are both good and bad aspects to this new development. On the plus side is the fact that, like it or not, we are moving into a age where more and more of the direct delivery of health care will be delegated to paramedical professions. At one time, giving injections was the sole prerogative of the M.D.; now nurses at the County give all but IV medications. How many of us know the details of how to provide postural drainage, teach a hemi- plegic to walk again, or design a 2,500 calorie low sodium low residue diabetic diet? How many of us care to attend to the details of these tasks? We order them. We assume they will be done. We must rely on the special skills of our partners in patient care. Being students at the same institution gives us the opportunitv ' to get to know who these people are and what they offer to our future patients. In reality, few of us have really availed oursehes of the opportunity to learn how the physician func- tions on the health team. We have been busy enough just learning to be doctors, and there has been a dearth of programs stressing the relationship of physician to other health related professions. We therefore realize that there is room for improve- ment. The schools of health related professions are important. However, as the system now exists, the Center is fragmented and compartmentalized. We just do not know what all those people can do for the patient. And they, on the other hand, Marvin Leifer pn)l)al)l - feci resentment toward the medical stu- dent, the future captain of tlie health team, for his lack of knowledge and interest in what they can do. The other problem is the utihzation of faculty time by the new schools. Since nursing students and CHRPs are taught by the same basic science people who teach us, the load on the instructor has increased. Has our education suffered because of this? One cannot be sure, but it certainly is true that new students require more faculty, more money, and new facilities. The economy-minded concept, that the same faculty and facilities can produce increased quantit) ' , can only lead to de- cline in the quality of teaching. In summary-, the development of a Health Sci- ences Center is laudable. Medical students should and must learn to work with nurses and paramedi- cal professionals. On the other hand, there is a danger that the College of Medicine may become just another school, sharing overtaxed faculty and facilities. Our planners should remember that ulti- mate patient responsibility in the forseeable future still lies with the ph sician. He is the most selected, the most highly trained, and, of necessity, the pivotal member of the health team. Any innovation must be planned and executed without compro- mising the function of the College of Medicine, else the whole Center misses the point of its function, the advancement and deliverv of health Leonard Shulman Kevin Reilly; E. pansion of the University has been di- rected toward the paramedi- cal professions durin;; our medical years. I don ' t think this process has affected the quality of education in the medical college, but it has helped to make us more auare of the changes occur- ring in medical care today, with emphasis always on im- provement. When changes are made that do seem detri- mental, the young physicians of today are alert to them and will act to protect their education. v He urged the medical colleges to improve and shorten the cur- ricida and to train a physician with a little more sense of responsi- bility for his patient. One reason we ' re in this pickle, he suggested, is because in carrying out the noble . . . research . . . we haven ' t emphasized enough the relation- ship of a physician to society — to his individual patient. AM A News on Roger O. Egeberg, MD Seth Goldberg The basic nature of medicine is twofold — tech- nical and humanistic. The physician must be both an accomplished body mechanic as well as a healer of the spirit if he is to deliver the best medical care to his charges. This duality is fundamental to medicine and, consequently, the quality of medical education should be assessed according to its abil- ity to come to grips with these two purposes. Much of the present unrest and dissention existing at the DMC reflects tlie school ' s inability to teach both the technical and humanistic qualities of medicine in an integrated, intelligent manner. Is this the fault of the teachers or the taught? Tlie student learns from the patient by way of a close, personal contact with the instructor. Indeed, the student is not necessarily less intelligent than his teacher, merely less experienced. The instruc- tor ' s purpose is to help his students develop per- ception, an approach and attitude to the patient, and fundamental technical skills upon which the novice will build his experience. These ingredients must be mixed in the proper proportions if the medical school graduate is to be justly labeled a physician. When the effort to reach this delicate equilibrium is compromised — for whatever pur- post a school is transfonned into an industrial assembly-line, and the (anticipated) end-product is the technocrat. There are many factors operating at Downstate which distort the necessan, ' balance of education and thereby prohibit the training of the compleat physician. The precedent is established during the basic science years. As we are inundated with fantastic amounts of biological and physiological information about the individual, we are denied a view of the patient. Clinical correlation is scarce, and sociolog- ical data is thereby deemed irrelevant. In addition, the basic sciences are autonomous of each other, with little, if any, interdepartmental teaching. Be- sides fostering inefficiency of time and effort (did we learn the intricacies of muscle contraction in Biochemistry ' , Histology or Physiology?), this sys- tem lays the groundwork for compartmentalizing the patient, a philosophy which flourishes during the chnical years. How many times have we been asked — frequently in front of the patient — to listen to the mitral valve in the middle bed ? That valve is one small part of a human being, who has ( at the very least) the right to be considered an individual and addressed by his proper name. More impor- tant, by considering the patient as a mitral valve, one practices bad medicine. The most e ident pathology that he demonstrates may be a calcified heart valve, but what caused this change iii his Havelock Ellis W illiam Basta r physiological status? What was the epidemiology of his disease, and how does it bear on his future, the future of his family, and the li ' es of thousands of other people he never met and never will meet? What of after-care for this mitral valve, and pro- phylactic treatment of the future mitral valves that will eventually find themselves sitting in the KCH emergency room? The specificity ' of our train- ing — cardiology, gastroenterology, pediatric hema- tology ' , neuro-endocrinology — better equips us to understand and treat pathology; however, it also serves a negative purpose. We view patients as discrete segments, and often blind ourselves to the realization that we are dealing with people . . . people who have families, fears, and hopes . . . people who do not like to be treated as inanimate machines . . . people who resent this treatment to such a degree that they may eventually choose not to seek medical care within the confines of a dehumanizing cit ' hospital. During the clinical years, other forces are opera- tive which orient our education towards that of a technician. It is evident that optimal development of humanistic, as well as personal, skills depends on intimate student-faculty contact. Without such a working relationship, the student develops in rela- tive anonymit) ' . (How many times have we been told that we can read ad infinitum, but unless clinical pathophysiology is shown to us, we shall not understand the disease, nor learn how to treat it?) This relationship is hard to come by at Down- state. The faculty member is at once a teacher, researcher, and administrator. This is a tall order for any individual, and comers must be cut by virtue of the fact that there are only so many hours in a given day. The students realize which sphere of activity suffers, because they are the true suf- ferers; the faculty reahzes this, too. A final point concerns the built-in technicaHza- tion of our education — scut work. This repre- sents the epitome of second-rate education in the sense that we are taught to be technicians, and asked not to think. What will we leam from doing six hematocrits, or four CBCs, or a dozen urinal- yses? What do we learn from taking a patient to X-ray and waiting with him for an hour? What did we leam in OB cbnic, besides taking blood pressures, weighing patients and asking questions printed on a mimeographed sheet? How do we benefit in the O.K. by holding retractors and cut- ting sutures for several hours on end? Anyone who says this is learning by doing is either stupid or a har. The real reason why we perform these tasks is because the hospital could not function without our doing it. And because of this many are resentful. And in their stupidity they are angry at everyone, including the patients. And it is difficult to develop humanistic and idealistic attitudes when one is angry. In this atmosphere, frustration mounts and one of two outcomes are possible. Either the student turns his interests to the more immediately satisfy- ing and rewarding areas of research medicine, or he renews his dedication for delivering direct pa- tient care and pursues this goal with increased fervor. The direction each individual takes is de- termined, in large part, by his personality. Thus, many Downstate students proceed toward their gradually evolving goals in spite of, rather than because of, their direct educational experiences. Their training in the area of patient relationship and interaction was inadequate. At present, Down- state is not a closely knit medical center where teachers, students, and the community work to- ward the common goal of optimal care for the patient. Rather, it is an overburdened, understaffed institution, which tries to do the best it can in terms of health care delivery. That is, it practices as- sembly-line medicine to accommodate the hordes of sick. And it propagates this philosophy by teach- ing assembly-line medicine. In the short run this is merely bad medicine; in the long run, it may well prove to be disastrous. Louis Pasteur I an Lowenthal t -4 I 1 I ' Ij Edward Kuehnel Lawrence Slutniek Allen Mogtader P V Q pKysiolo y ' psuckigirY VS o ' O ' , 6; ' o nea oa  ■to t adequa Downstate has not yet found a v way to stimulate vC ' ' its students without scaring them into study- ing. Q.N.S. ' . ' ,e ' e ' cc- ?!X!! OfiOf; Ar£ pK rfnaco(o y radiolo ] 5 v-A-r- en Lronr 7e rftal b- yw biochemistry aaatorriv ? , a good mediocre medical scliool archaic ' o obstinate regressive unstimulating frustrating overburdening exploiting dc ioiis 5 UP try %  tlo|e y Q. ■- .i vou 6 tNV A at vou V V tot r. A- « ' ?t -G- t % -vcV c ■ 7 . o - PatKololoJy ptdia+rics nneo icine. deceives d, .|,,.k(: O l{olandC;;.tti Llovd Cordon • rtt 1 David I,ol)cr Norman Meyer Lawrence Pasik ■4 too tense learning under great pressure It is only the individual ' s personal quali- ties that allow Downstate graduates to rise abo e the anti-humanistic atmos- phere that prevails on this campus. A sound education — with the problems that beset any New York institution drawing from the high- pressurized student and physician population from which it does TeiT ' Silver It seemed hke a cross between Gullivers Travels and War and Peace. Adequate in most re- spects and ver - good in some areas too much emphasis on memoriza- tion of facts to pass exams and not enough emphasis on how to ap- proach a clinical problem in an orderly way a wonderful experi- ence ... a good op- portunity to work with strongly moti- vated and highly ded- icated people ... a wonderful academic community Surprisingly disappointing: What I thought was a school that turned out excellent clinicians, turned out to be a school that turned out great technicians. excellent education in the concrete jungle If I knew what I had to go through I ' d have become an actuar ' . Amos Willis Harry Jackson Drs. Stanley Goldstein, mon Rodriguez-Torres Robert Eriich and Ra- Dr. Jerome Stempak Teachers are the essence of a medical school. At Downstate, students have become disgruntled with the teaching ability of the faculty, especially those in the preclinical sciences. The complaint is that they concentrate too much on research. It can be argued that one cannot separate re- search and teaching, for research is the discovery, and teaching the dissemination, of information and one cannot exist without the other. Why, then, exists such a person as a good researcher and a poor teacher? One must define what is meant by a teacher. It can be contended that teaching does not, or should not, be equated with lecturing. A teacher is one who can provide information and stimulation tor a student to learn. Some people have the ability to lecture well, others teach better in small groups with a free exchange between teacher and student. ' hile all agree that this latter is the best method, pragmatically one must accept the lecture hall as a substitute. And commensurate with this — in our setting — one must often equate teaching with lec- turing. On die other hand, in the clinical years, small groups are the rule. If there is poor communica- Dr. Bernard Weclisler Dr. Ronald Rubin J tion here, we lose something from our education. In atkhtioii. those who concentrate on clinical re- search are specialists of a sort and often don ' t serve as clinical models of internists, general surgeons, obstetricians, etc., for the student. With small or no pri ate practice, these men often perpetuate the poor physician-patient attitude at Kings County. It is the rare indi idual who can combine clinician, researcher and teacher siiccessfu Downstate is, obviously, not the Utopia whicli would result from this staff of wondermen, nor is any medical school. Too many students for the number of teachers make small group study im- possible. There are lectures by people who are not suited to this modality of education and there are extrinsic pressures from administrati ' e and other outside sources. These difficulties cannot be solved o ernight, especially in these days of budget cut- ting, but efforts must be made to enlarge the faculty before those who are here succumb to overwork and to promote instructors more on the basis of teaching ability- than on articles published. The purpose of medical school is, after all, to teach medical students. Dr. Abraham Lapidot yi f ' p There is nothing like arousing appetite and affection; otherwise all you make out of students is asses loaded with hooks. Montaigne ■i.— ' M Dr. Ham- Mellins Dr. Louis Hellman Dr. Stanley Aronson Dr. David Kydd bon voyage « % A Public health is purchasable. Within natural limitations a community can determine its oicn death rate. Hermann Biggs, 1911 CLINIC HLOWM ; ■ PfcUTC , ,„ I AL SURGERY SfmrVi • ' '  ' iETES cHiLDREM «; „, ' ; ' ,:. OSTrC Mirtorii i ••• ' • NOSE THROAT t« m _ ' ocRiNE ;rjr-i«™« ' ' ' • TMNflIt • • ' !■ rvr pro -,, It « „,KT T.«L- ; BOUSM.BLDC ,,. ROLOGY uv 1 C.tcniC ' SCHEDULE CLIMCt i WTCHinUM PoiT ninuN DIC8   ;•• (UKOV im r PHWCALTHMPY 11 PLASTKSUKCRY if p THYWIO ' fMXITUK ICML ■«• SURCERT TR W UROLOGY „„,. X- If you prick us, do we not bleed... if you poison us, do we not die? William Shakespeare The Merchant of Venice, III, i, 70 OUR BLACK BAG At the interface, in the hospitals and clinics, the student confronts his patients: people who wait on long lines for hours, people shut- tled from chnic to clinic, doctor to doctor, ofttimes not having a hint of what ' s Tong with them; people whose house officers address them by their first names, people who train one student (doctor) after an- other after another with their bodies and patience. In the fourth year the student has a month to work up a famih ' of these people and experience the discouraging web of bureaucracy in which the - li e. And after it is all over — medi- cal school, the internship, the resi- dency — after all this excellent teaching material — he deh ers the fruits of his experience to suburban patients. ' hile society may not intend it that way, the health care delivery system for the ghetto poor can be viewed operationally as a pattern of exploitation, another double message. According to the New England Journal, Medicine has so far been onl - shghtly less exclusive than the building trade unions, so that most prominent black phv- sicians are to be found huddled to- gether in their own small enclaves. And the U.S. Riot Commission Re- port of the National Advisor - Com- mission on Civil Disorders ( Kemer Commission) feels that: America is, and has always been, a racist society. Bigotr ' penetrates every level and e%ery region of the coun- try, North and South, business, labor, journalism, education and medicine. Much talk is heard in and out of the medical school, but talk is not action and the ultimate question is what we do now and 5, 10, 20 years from now. If we ' re not part of the solution, we ' re part of the problem. Xorman Stokes John Carroll: The great medical cen- ters of the next 20 ears uill be those which reach out to bring care to the poor people of the communities they serve and involve those people, the consumers, in the decisions affecting delivery of medical care. The State University-Kings County Medical Center must now begin to take a place as the leader in the decentrali- zation of ser ice. Only in that way can it begin to serve properh- the poor of the community ' and continue as a vital force in medical care and education. Henrietta Wallace: The people must gain a cer- tain level of sophistica- tion and social responsi- bility which will enable them to value good health and to seek out medical help, especially in the areas of population control and preventive medicine. Unless this awareness occurs among the indigent population, any effort by the medical profession to improve th health climate of the community will be futile. Ferdinand Sauer Martin Rosenstein: The delivery of health care at DMC-KCH is an awe- some task whose achieve- ment seems quite medi- ocre on the surface, but quite amazing when pa- tient-staff ratio is con- sidered. Benjamin Fass M On Being Poor Being poor is being told in front of 115 people that you are a veritable museum of pathology. Being poor is coming to the emergency room at 10:30 a.m., in severe pain, and not being seen until 1 :30 p.m. in the clinic. Being poor is having four young men put their hngers in your vagina, and only one of them has his name end in M.D. , , Being poor is having a med student stick your arm seven times unsuccessfully while a staff physician stands by and watches. Being poor is being called stupid because you don t have the sense to feed your five kids more protein, when you get only $2100 a year. . i u Being poor is being afraid to go to the hospital, be- cause you don ' t want to die. Larry Kron 71 Hahnemann Medical College .«,n. ss EMERGENCY WARD MALE FEMALE S 5« ► ,„ i V Exuse me. Center? G€t your facts first, and then distort ' em as you please. Mark Twain Howard Goldsweig Joel Weissman: The stu- dent ' s adequacy can best be evaluated by discus- sion with an interested house staff and attend- ings. A student ' s grade is of less importance than his own feeling of com- petence in a discipline. but where can I find the Downtown Medical — Question I DEFENSE OF PAR. NOI. The lecture would not start for 3.5 minutes, but it was now almost full of students, munching sand- wiches and madly trying to copy the hieroglyphics that covered each of the five visible blackboards. To the right of the central blackboard, just under the No Smoking sign, read the words Food or Beverages Not Permitted in this Auditorium. Vhat do you mean I ' m defensive? The student in the second row was obviously chagrined at the accusation and momentarily diverted his atten- tion from changing a tape cartridge to glare at his classmate. The latter knew he was treading on shaky ground and returned to his scribbling. If only they would mimeograph these damn charts, we could use our lunch hour for something sensible, like eating lunch! The front doors swung open and in walked Dr. Munhvyler with about 2000 printed throw aways under his arms. But by now you were used to this; it had become a matter of course. You thought back to that first day. . . . And I would like to take this opportunity to assure you that we have selected you vety care- fully and we sincerely believe that you are all capable of graduating. If we didn ' t think that, we wouldn ' t have taken you. The words sounded re- assuring, but as Dr. Kohl ticked off the statistics on the board — 176 people admitted to the first-year class in 1965, 3 withdrew, 1 transferred, 2 left for health reasons, 1 asked to repeat . . . 169 were promoted — you could not help but recall Hamlet ' s mother: The lady doth protest too much, me- thinks. You refused to believe all diose rumors. They were second-hand, anyway. Besides, the student who had acted as your tour guide was very en- thusiastic: This is the gross anatomy lab. You will probably find this one of the most enjoyable courses given here. . . . There are two things you must keep in mind: First, get a thin cadaver because it ' s easier to dissect. Second, keep it wetted down. The best way to do this is to wrap it up in paper towels. This will preserve it and also keep the other students from using the body for review. You asked yourself why you should want to keep other students from reviewing on your body. It made more sense, three weeks later, when you found it uncovered, your painstaking demonstration of the root of the neck now just so many brittle threads. You cursed to yourself as you refilled your fluid bottle, and a seed of doubt was planted. Came the first anatomy written, and you were advised to read each question carefully. . . . Every effort has been made to eliminate tricky questions. . . Note that there are five types of questions. Be sure to . . . The first series of ques- tions were Type 5. The instructions read: Below each question ou will find a statement and a rea- son. Answer A if both the statement and the reason are true and they are causally related. Answer B if both the statement and the reason are true, but they are not causally related. Answer C if the statement is true but the reason is false; D if the statement is false but the reason is true; and E if both the statement and the reason are false. E.x- ample: Inferior dislocations of the head of the humerus are more common than superior disloca- tions BECAUSE the supraspinatus, infraspinatus, teres major and minor muscles attach to the pos- terior aspect of the humerus, forming a strong rotator cuff. Answer — A. Two hundred hands shot up simultaneously, and another seed of doubt was planted. One week later was the biochemistry written. Vou staggered under the accumulated weight of your urine bottle and the red circles around your unkno n results. At least half the class cut that last biochem lecture before the e.xam, and as Dr. Kirschenbaum traced the labeled carbon of acetyl Co. through the citric acid cycle, you wondered why you hadn ' t joined them. Interestingly enough, question 2 on that e.xam read: In a liver prepa- ration in the presence of malonate, acetyl CoA labeled in the methyl carbon is incorporated into glutamic acid. Draw the structures of all the inter- mediates from acetyl CoA to glutamic acid indi- cating at each step where the isotope is located in the structure. Somehow, the logic demonstrated by the Department of Biochemistry had escaped ou. You granted them the intelligence to write an exam designed to penalize those ' ho cut a lecture. But ou wondered if they realized that this was not a demonstration of intellect. Was there a conspirac ? Ridiculous! The year Louis Moccia Jeffrey Freed Paul Vitulli n - I ' ' 1 SeyTnour Perl Eugene Trainin Emily Lichtman progressed: The HistoIog ' Department will in- spect all used microscopes which are used or are of unusual manufacture. Students will only be al- lowed to ha e appro ed microscopes. You were shattered when you learned that the prisms on your Nikon were misaligned, or your hair pointer was too thick. You used it anywa} ' , alwaj ' s fearful, yet proud that you had put it over on them, on Big Al. Today ' s introductory lectme in neuroanatoni) ' will attempt to present a broad overview of the various tracts and nuclei that make up the struc- tures of the central nervous system. It was like trying to fly a cement kite. Then, the ultimate insult: In an attempt to correlate success in neu- roanatomy with ability to visualize two-dimensional representations of sohd objects in three dimensions, I am asking you all to undergo an examination. ' Dr. Moldowski handed out the exams and we were told that they would have no effect whatever on our grade in neuro. You wondered why he felt so compelled to convince us of this. Was distrust in the atmosphere? For two hours we mentally folded the diagrams into little boxes. This prepared us adequately for the lucid limbic system — and diey discovered tliat ablation of the nucleus of Bechterew in the monkey, unlike the cat, resulted in. . . . ' Physiology fostered many personal relationships with upperclassmen living in the dorms. Excuse me, but do you have your old lab reports from physio? We did the turtle heart experiment and I have to write it up. By now you didn ' t even mind biostatistics, al- though you might have questioned the wisdom of holding those classes in the microbiology labs as ou tried to remo%e the carbol fuchsin from our shirt. They had to treat you better in the second year, right? ' rong! This is a course in microbiology. Most people call it  i rrobiolog -. This is incorrect. The word is 7 n ' cr oi)iolog -, die stud - of microbes, not ' small biology ' . . . . ' (Although Xoah Webster and Gould ' s Medical Dictionary fa ored the former pniiiuiifiation.) Tlic department liad a ratlu ' i in- teresting philosopliy and the men ' s rooms witli- stood the pre-examination onslaughts admirably. Pathology was punishing. God bless you, Mitch, and Cod bless the snows that cancelled our sec- ond day of orals. Well, the Mormons had their sea gulls, hadn ' t they? It renewed your faith, but hadn ' t the class shrunk? Weren ' t about a dozen of von gone, or was it merely your imagination? Any- a -, you had to think about your own future, with finals approaching and then BOARDS!!! Mike began, Both the Department of Pathology and the Department of Medicine have rejected onr proposals regarding the finals. . . . But Pa- thology surprised you, and you surprised Dr. Eichna by averaging 87% on your unsigned clinical lab medicine and physical diagnosis writtens. A ictory for your side! Then came the Boards. Be- low for each question you will find a statement and a reason. Answer A if both the statement and the reason are true and causally related, answer B if. . . . Somehow, the Department of Anatomy seemed indicated. They really were preparing you for the Boards. And you passed! The third year was better. They called you Doc- tor. Doctor, you will be here each morning at 7 a.m. to draw the bloods. Or Doctor, you will change the dressings before rounds. Or else. Sur- gery was rough, but at least Dr. Eichna came to your rescue in his Memorandum to Medical House Staff: Students are here to learn, they are not shnes for scut. . . . Had you impressed him? ' ell, he certainly impressed you. You were feeling rather elated about this time, when your ego was again abruptly punctured by Dotty Lee, R.N. ( Red Neck). She was like a mother — she directed you as if you couldn ' t tie your own shoes. Still, you had difficulty en isioning your mother awakening you at .3 a.m. screaming ADMISSION into your ear. Were you wrong to resent it? Pediatrics followed and you wondered why you were singled out to ser e the first rotation on the diarrhea ward. But yon didn ' t question, for survival equalled anonym- it -. If they don ' t know me, they can ' t say any- thing bad about me. But into the fourth year, you realized: If they don ' t know me, they can ' t say anything good about me. Yon dreaded the revelat ions inside that folder on Dr. Kohl ' s desk. You dreaded that appointment, but at last the day came. I can see by these eval- uations . . . (you knew what was coming and looked for an exit) . . . that your instructors held you in rather higli regard. I imagine you will match at. . . . You were astonished, and checked the name on the folder. You walked away euphoric, half-disbelie ing the thought that could not be shaken. You realized that they cared and for that you were grateful. Was it all worth it? ( Ed. note: Only if there was not a better way. ) Simon Trutt: A doctor ' s role is to change the uorltl — whether he knows it or not — he is a revolutionary by choice. To condone the present, the status quo, is an unpardonable sin. Martin Levine A.O.A. .J zz-i . i If there is one organization in the school, and in the general academic medical community, which belongs in the forefront of change it is Alpha Omega Alpha. Contrary to the belief of some, members included, this is not an organization for the self-aggrandizement of those who achieve aca- demic excellence. Yet at Downstate, AOA has been neither a vocal, nor a conspicuous, organization. This is not to say that it has not been active, but it has chosen to act in an informal manner via per- sonal suggestion. Several changes in the school curriculum, regarding the second year, are a par- tial product of suggestions of AOA members. One of the major problems facing AOA today is William Hellenbrand its lack of purpose. A new member entering AOA e.vpects to find an organization that embodies goals and ideals with which he can identify. This has not been the case in the past. AOA meetings frequently consist solely of electing new members and having guest speakers. While other students have pressed for increased responsibility in the Medical Center, AOA has retreated into secret meetings with cer- tain comments made only on the assurance that all present will keep them secret. A prospective member is considered not only on the basis of academics, but also on the basis of the members ' prejudices and subjective feelings. He usually hears of his election via the grapevine and a week or two later receives official notification of his good fortune along wath a request for $40. Dues paid, he attends his first meeting, is ignored by all present, and wonders if this is what AOA is all about. It is hoped that this situation can be remedied, although the solution will be difficult. AOA must ceas e to be a secret society in which the only peo- ple who know of its activities are the elected mem- bers. The secretiveness of AOA has been attacked from within and is slowly, but definitely, dissolving. This will help integrate its activities with those of the Medical Center. Long awaited and much needed changes are occurring throughout the school. AOA must join this innovative trend if it is to become a respon- sible, vital force in our community. Wilfiam Hellenbrand The Alpha Omega Alpha Honor Medical Society has been in existence since 1902. The societ ' is comprised of three classes of members: medical students (the largest active component of the Eta Chapter at Downstate), alumni, faculty. The latter two groups are selected by the medical students for their distincti e achievements in tlie art and practice of scientific medicine. The spirit of the societ ' is set forth in its motto: To be worthy to serve the suffering. It is the duty of the members to promote its ideals, to foster the scientific and philosophical features of the medical profession, to foster research, and in all ways to ennoble the profession of medicine and advance it in public opinion. Election of members is determined by scholar- ship (limited to the upper quarter of the class), moral character, and academic interest (e.g., re- search). Scholarship implies not only grades, but also individualit)-, originality, demonstration of a studious attitude independent of teacher require- ments, and promise of intellectual growth. It should be noted that grades alone are not enough to en- sure membership as the other two aspects are equally considered. The aims of the society are to promote scholarship and research in medical schools, the encouragement of a high standard of character and conduct among medical students and graduates, and the recognition of high attainment in medical science, practice, and related fields. I ha e been a member of AOA for t vo years, and have noticed a remarkable change. Last year, the organization was passive, taking action primarily when the self-interests of the membership stood to gain. Howe er, this year a more progressive mem- bership was elected, consisting of many students keenly aware of the needs of the DMC. Many of these individuals have been active in the already existing student-facult - committees. The crv ' for action has been raised at all of our meetings, and the responsibilities of the membership to take ac- tion is finally being realized. For example, the selection process for membership to AOA was al- tered this year, in an attempt to de-emphasize the disproportionate importance placed on academic achievement. In the past, through its white papers, AOA has played a major part in initiating change in school policy. We are presently trving to promote a more meaningful interaction between faculty and stu- dents, and I forsee the day when AOA will once again play a role in initiating and supporting a more progressive education at Downstate. Alan Fields . lan Fields Jeffrey Brinker r the : r -■ - ' ■;J: JH Year 19o0 -69 j ) ' h rar Ic S.Wec. Cra.ic ! j V; ' ,,,rt Clinical Medicine 1 s ! F-nvironmenu Skdicine Obstclrics ( ' •; n ecology K Clinical Modi , Pediatrics S Pediatrics y S Surgery S . i i-i s Suri;icat S;-.:cia!tie! Ancsihesiok P ychi.itry cr. RaJiclogy cr. 1 Examinations are the stumbling blocks and rocks of offense in the path of the true student. Sir William Osier Poised at the starting gate four years ago, we nervously contemplated the task ahead of us. Re- leased from the competitive pressures of high school and college, we were relieved by Down- state ' s not having a formal grading system. No longer would we be compulsive students. We looked forward to enjoying our work in an atmos- phere conducive to learning. It was our first op- portunity and we welcomed it. We soon learned that the refreshing atmosphere we had anticipated was not to be. We waited tensely for the posting of midterm marks. The grades were arranged in order of number of correct answers, making it a relatively easy matter to dis- cern our status in the class. We marched to the niailbo.xes, hoping, perhaps for the first time in our lives, that we would receive no mail. Bar graphs were constructed, telling us how many standard deviations off we were on particular answers and apprising us of discontinuities we ' d put into the shape of the bell. Bowing to the demands of the computer, multiple choice exams predominated and restricted our mentation to ' on-off. ' As a corollary of computer grading, students didn ' t just pass or fail; they fell into a percentile in the class. Tlie atmosphere remained — fight for every point, beat your roommate. Again, we looked forward to a time when it all would end. Jamile Peress Charles Citrin Jeffrey Garrison: There are several levels at which the student is evaluated at Douiistate. . MT k The exams and personal . flr faculty evaluations are - characterized by variable f A quality and purpose. The Honors-Pass-Fail system r 1 L 1 is therefore a fortunate l „ _Ji equalizer. The result yf f might be improved by _p 1 better, earlier, faculty- student communication. Ai Robert Douglas: The pass-fail system relie es much of the competitive pres- sure, but fails to provide enough feedback to the student about how well he is actually doing. The Sophomore Dance has been one of Down- state ' s traditions. It is sometimes hard to associate that word with this particular facet of the often faceless modern multiversity. Perhaps that is why to some of us such an affair is important. It lends a sense of identity somewhat beyond that of the hole in a pimch card. Sweet illusion? Others complain that although traditions are im- portant, they are not best established by such yearly rites of Spring. They say that the money and effort could better go into projects and pro- grams more directly affecting the quality of Down- state life and the community which — they say — we should be serving. The natural question is why not have both? Or, perhaps, in this hyped-up world it is ever more difficult to have vour cake and eat it too. Lynda Fisher Gerald Whelan s f David Cruickshank tf Robert Bauer f Sjy Steven Zipin mm Before 1966, several. attempts had been made to unite Downstate students ' wives into a formal or- ganization. These fruitless attempts were usually made by a small group of girls who, even when given the enthusiastic support of the administra- tion, usually let the organization deteriorate after one or two months. In the Fall of 1966, Karen Larsen, feeling the need for such an organization, renewed the effort. Karen, a freshman wife at the time, managed to contact almost all of the married students. The response at the first meeting was tremendous. Most of the girls that turned out for the meeting were veterans of the previous attempts, but they caught new enthusiasm at this meeting. The Medical Student Wives Association was thereby founded. The meetings were meant to be a place for the out-of-town girl, whose husband consistently booked, to get out and talk with some- one (anyone). It was also a place for the girl whose desire it was to take a more active part in her husband ' s career and join the Downstate com- munity. By the time the organization was in its third year, the girls felt that the group should offer more than just a place to meet once a month. Spurred on by the ideas of Barbara Ginsberg and Kathi Raniolo, the basic goals of the club were revamped. Meetings were split between working on service projects for the hospital and having unusual speak- ers and demonstrations. Service projects started out on a small scale (Christmas caroling throughout the hospital, the establishing of a Pediatrics Library, and volunteer- ing on the wards). These were soon greatly ex- panded. This year, for example, the association provided a Christmas party for the pediatrics ward complete with gifts, tree and Santa Claus. The toy drive, book and magazine drive, and clothing drive provided many needed items for patients in the SUH and KCH. Outside the hospital ' s sphere, the girls have been called upon to help with SAMA dances, assist the 2nd year class with their recep- tion for the freshmen, raise funds for the Biafra Relief Foundation, and to act as hostesses at var- ious departmental seminars. Expanding their desire to make their husband ' s life a little more varied, the girls have arranged several social functions throughout the year. Among the most successful this year were the pot luck dinner, ice cream social, deli dinner, reception for all married students (the Happy Hour), and the annual ' ine Cheese Tasting. When asked to take an active part in the Freshman orientation program this past September, they knew they had finally been recognized as an integral and vital force on the Downstate campus. In retrospect, it seems that the Medical Students Wives Association has come a long way since its inception four years ago, and through its develop- ment has provided Downstate with many needed services. For the girls themselves, the Wives Club has been more than a place to meet with each other and perform good works for the hospital commuiiity; rather, it has been a haven from the sea of intellectual strangulation that seems to have engulfed their husbands. It is their hope that the club will continue to grow and to provide what- ever small outlet it can for the spare moments in their lives. ' Wlpm Sammy Hutman Arthur Feinerman James Israel :: -.: ., .-. ;: : — t f Che Oath of Cliaimonidcs hu eternal prooidmrc has appointed me to ttiatch oOtr the life and health of Chu _ creanirts ylm the loDe for mu art actuate me at all times; may neither aoarice nor miserliness, nor thirst for gioru, or for a great j reputation cngacje mij mind; for tlit enemies of trurh and philanthropu could easily dcrnoe me and make me forgetfiil of my lofty aim of domg good to Oy children - CUay XncDtr see m the patient anything o ,ybut a feliott) rrcarurc in pam ■ 3nnt me - i.W strength, time and opportumty always to rorrerr ' tohat ,1 haDe acquired, always to extend its domam; J h for knowledge is immense and the spint of man - | r , U ' © f 3 f 5:tend mlinitelu to ennch itself daily with new | )j(Ia ' requirements today he ran disroocr his errors ,of uesterdau and tomorrow he mau obtain a new ' ' J light on What he thinks himself sure of today , O.God, Chou hast appomted me to Watch i SJoDer the life and death of Chy creatures ; here amT II ready for my oocanon, and now Xnim unto mg calling. The Maimonides Society derives its name from that of Moses ben Maimon, the great rabbi, scholar and doctor of the twelfth century; his attitude toward the practice of medicine came from his deeply religious background, which made the pres- ervation of health and life a divine command- ment. Its goals, therefore, are aimed at meeting the religious, cultural and social needs of its members, particularly in the application of Jewish ideals to modern medico-ethical problems. Services are conducted by the society on various Jewish holidays, a rabbi conducts weekly lecture- discussions on medical sources in the Talmud, and members of the medical profession are invited to speak on such topics as transplantation, birth con- trol, abortion, and other areas of ethical concern. In the last few years the Maimonides Society has undergone a revitalization. This year, for the second time, the society has built a sttccah for the Holiday of Tabernacles (Succoth), and Dovvnstate thus became the only medical school in the country with such a provision specifically for members of its community. In an era of technological advancement for the masses, and in an environment of education for the masses, the Maimonides Society helps fulfill some of the personal and individual needs of its mem- bers. 137 If one student could be singled out as the leader in the burst of action that marked the Class of 1970, it would be Mike Merson. As class president, Mike drew the class together and became Downstate ' s foremost student spokesman. As head of Student Council, Mike made that group a stronger part of the Downstatc community. He helped give the student body a feeling that they had a role in the governance of Downstate. He asked for and re- ceived student support in the drive for student representation on school committees and led the group of student members into the Executive Fac- ulty Council, last year. Mike also was the main force behind the adoption of the oft-rejected Honor Code at Downstate. Saul ' ilen believes not only in actions but also in words. Unleashing his energies full vent after a (juiet first ear, Saul became a student spokesman during the second-year confrontation. A leader in the drive for curriculum reform and improvement of the atmosphere at Downstate, Saul researched and proposed a detailed plan for curriculum re- vision. He arranged a senior elective with a Biafra medical relief agency for December and January, but was unable to gain admission just prior to the Biafran surrender. One of the least heralded members of the class, Bob Lasser, has gone from Student Council repre- sentative to co-chairmanship of the Curriculum Committee. Always an efficient and thorough worker he has encouraged Council to maintain its dignity through some rather stressful times in the past four years. The report of the Curriculum Com- mittee is largely a product of his leadership and his contribution to those who follow us. the future We see now through a glass darkly, but then face to face. St. Paul: Cor. XIII, 12 Matched, passed, graduated. Its finally over. Twenty years of schooling — the end of an educa- tion or the beginning? Neither. Another milestone passed. Spreading into the city and scattering across the country. New members of an old profession, de- clining in mystique, but still commanding respect. The past four years — ponderously slow in the li ing — appear blurred and constricted in hind- sight. And now injection into a new environment. Intern. Starting at the bottom again. The bottom of an upper le el, but the bottom none the less. •■July 1, 1960—3 a.m.— Called to see Mrs. Soandso because of. . . . ' Confident? Maybe. Com- petent? It ' ll w ork out somehow. Uneasy? Yes. And after. Sleepless nights. . . . Long days. . . . Piurt III. Boards. . . . Residency. . . . Practice. . . . Specialty Boards. . . . Molded with time. . . . latros: physician. David Goldberg Alan Pertchik n Lawrence Kane: For the past two summers I ' ve worked at Army hospitals, and I ' ve observed tliat the training I acquired at Down- state Medical Center and Kings County Hospital com- pared favorably with that of my colleague extems fro m other schools. It ' s my opinion that being a graduate of DMC favors my chance of obtaining first choice of Army hospitals. Further- more, I feel that my medi- cal education at DMC would be adequate preparation for intern and resident pro- grams at any hospital. Michael Silverstein Michael Klein Thomas Pitre: I feel that my education at Downstate was more than adequate to pre- pare me to compete for practically any in- ternship I desired. There was no reason for me to say, apologetically, I will be gradu- ating from Downstate. Steven Turman: While visiting hospitals for internship interviews, a similar situation arose many times too often. The house officers would eventually ask where we came from. The replies of my fellow ap- plicants would most often elicit questions of interest and concern, however, on men- tioning Downstate a deadly silence would fall, the uneasy looks of the questioning house officer sometimes being broken by a polite oh! ■?5. ' Wt ' lb Edward Butler Jonathan Fratkin Daniel K ' oblentz Nothing is more uniquely human than the gath- ering and transfer of knowledge. In peace and in war, in darkness and in renaissance, the flickering light has been carefully passed, and it grows steadily brighter. The institutions established to guard the flame are tlic particular arbiters ot hiunan destiny, for it is there that it is determined liether there will be a growth in the human spirit to match technology. Without this growth the fire ill spurt out of control and consume its maker. The art and science of medicine is part of this The art and science of medicine is part of this passage. The doctor ' s role has risen through super- stition and witchcraft to command the position of respect which it now enjoys. But the degree in medicine gains part of its value in consideration of the institution which confers it; the rjuality of the institution is an essential ingredient in the pride of the degree ' s bearer. It is here again that technology is wedded to humanity; or it is here that the imion is not made, to the detriment of man, profession, and those served. Pride in Downstate? It may seem an inappro- priate word to apply to a place with so many flaws. Yet, perhaps our scorn can be tempered by our own incompleteness as physicians despite the title that is given to us. We cannot afford to be complacent because we have passed a course. Downstate ' s faults are glaring, yet competent phy- sicians are produced, and this is a needed service to our world. It is for us to be proud of at least that much; and if we do not go from there to working to make this institution the expression of the human spirit that it might be, we who are its graduates, no one else can be expected to do so. Until we are privileged to join in this effort again, we are glad to say goodbye and turn our faces to new things. i biida !Lia3)iv ' Ji vW ' j ji wi? vjuii j:jj j xu. :: iz izsaz ii:jij ' rLZ IVS vS CLCW CV WJlWSUUAi ' ' i . ' . . . notwithstanding all the pain that I have heretofore taken, I have reason to praise God, in that it hath pleased Him to call me to that branch of human endeavor, commonly called medicine, which can neither be bought by gold, nor by silver but by industry alone and long experience. Unknown iatros 1970 staff jeff anker richie berkowitz arthur chausmer burt dibble alan fields barbara ginsberg hank ginsberg dave goldberg phil greenberg mitch barman bill hellenbrand bob Johnson danny koblentz les kriegman bob larsen bob lasser tony lechich louise levine dave lober stu lonky jack marino III mel markovvitz carol musto bev rossi stan rubin phyllis selter larry slotnick reg trentham chris ukrainski sid ulreich V l ' ' Jm ' Br p editors-in-chief dave abraham joe ryan associate editors Steve green paul nuccio saul wilen photography fred isaacson dick musto george raniolo seniors editor Steve de sauvage business editor joe markenson faculty advisor dr. Stanley goldstein acknowledgements lichonian 1959 public relations department mrs. lucy attarian mrs. ruth rothman mrs. rose migliore the parents, faculty members and alumni for their contributions parents ' association for their generous gift and support Mrs. Ruth Rotliman Mrs. Rose Migliore The Parents . ssoeiation Board: Mr. Joseph K an, Mrs. Lucy Attarian, Mr. Pas(]uale Musto, Mrs. Morris Nadler and .Mr. Leon Gitin. O BAUMGAKTEN, STEPHEN H. 56 Queens (. ' olleKe Surgery, Maiinotiides Hospital Center Brooklyn, N.V. BEHCEH, HOV E. Biickiiell L Miveisit Mcdkiiw, Hoosevelt Hospita New York, N.Y. BEHKOU ITZ, BARRY M. (.)iie.Mis College fio , (i;i«, L ' .S. Naval Hospital San Diego, Calif. BERFCOWITZ, HICIIAKD II. Rutgers llniversity Medicine. Mount Sinai Hospital New York, N.Y. BOYD, JAMES L. Kenyon College Pediatrics, Children ' s ilospit.il San Francisco, Calil. BRAASCH, ERNEST R. Manhattan College Medicine, New Y ' ork Hospital- Memorial New York, NY. 59 58 BRENNAN, DONALD C. Georgetown Universits Medicine, Bron.x Municipal Hosjiita Center Bronx, New York BRINKER, JEFFREY A. Hofstra University Medicine, Johns Hopkins Hospital Baltimore, Md. .n BROSNAN, EDWARD J. Queens College Medicine, L.. . County— USC Center Los Angeles, Calit. Med. ABHAIl.Wl, DA ID A. St. Mar ' s Seminarv Rotatin ' fi, Wilford Hall USAF Lackland .-VFB, San .Antonio, Texas ASBELL, ROBERT L. Tufts University Surgery. NYU — Bellevue Medical Center New York, N.Y ' . BASS, JOEL L. BrookKn College Pediatrics, N YU— Bellevue Med. Center New York, N.Y. BASS, MARLENE Harpur College Rotating, Grady .Memorial Hospital Atlanta, Georgia BASTA, WILLLAM R. New York University Medicine, Montefiore Hospital New York, N.Y. BAUER, ROBERT P. Universitx of Rochester Rotating, Montefiore Hospital New York, N.Y. 98 BROWN, HARVEY V. City College of New York Rotating, NIontefiore Hospital New York, N.Y. BROWN, MURRAY A. U. of Pittsburgh, U. of Vienna Rotating, Orange County Med. Ci Orange, Calit. BRUNOWSKI, THO. L S T. Newark College of Engineering Surgery, St. Luke ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. 58 .39 enter 145 BUTLER, EDWARD M. Fairfield Uni ersity Pediatrics, State Univ.— Kings Coimty Brooklyn, N.Y. CAR.MAN, JACK H. 109 Unixcrsity of Michig;ui Rotating, St. Joseph .Mercy Ho.spital . nn .Arbor, Mich. CARROLL, JOHN F. : Manhattan College Pediatrics, Univ. of Conn. McCook Hosp. Hartford, Conn. CHARRY, DANA 55 L ' niversitv of Pennsylvania Rotating. ' Phili. Gen.— U. of Pa. Div. Philadelphia, Pa. CHAUSMER, ARTHUR 91 Rutgers Universitv ' Medicine, Univ. of Kentucky Lexington, Ky. CHENVEN, NORMAN H. 39 Brown University Medicine, Univ. of Texas Med. Center San Antonio, Texas DOUGLAS, ROBERT L. Brandeis Uni ersity Medicine, St. Vincent ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. ERTL, JOHN E. Brooklyn College Rotating, Rhode Ishind Hospital Providence, R.L FASS, BENJANHN Yeshiva College Rotating, Beth Isreal Hospital New York, N.Y. FEINERMAN, ARTHUR E. Yeshiva College Medicine, Maimonides Hospital Brooklyn, N.Y. GARRISON, JEFFREY H. 13.3 Earlham College Rotating, General Rose Mem. Hospit.il Denver, Colorado 98 GATTL ROLAND P. 109 Fordhani L ' niversit} Surgery, North Shore— . leni. Hospital Manhasset, N.Y. GINSBERC;, HENRY Brookhn College Medicine, Boston City Hosp., B.U. Div. Boston, Mass. C;iNSBERC;, MARK H. McGill University Medicine, Uni . of Chicago (Clinics Chicago, 111. 24 CHERNY, SA.MUEL N. 84 Rutgers L ' niversity — Newark Medicine, State Univ. — Kings County Brooklyn, N.Y. FELDMAN, CHARLES H. 56 (Columbia (;ollege Pediatrics, Children ' s -Memorial Hosp. Chicago, 111. GLASS ER, GARY M. f LIniversity of Rhode Island Rotating, Stiite Uni ' . — Kings County Brooklyn, N.Y. CHEUNG, FRANKLAND Yale University Surgery, Mount Sinai Hospital New York, N.Y. 91 CIRILLO, DENNIS P. 91 New York University Surgery, State Univ. — Kings County Brooklyn, N.Y. CITRIN, CHARLES M. 1.32 Indiana University Medicine, U.S. Public Health Staten Island, N.Y. COHEN, LAWRENCE J. 90 University of Rochester Rotating, ' L. A. County— USC Medical Center Los Angeles, Calif COVEY, SUSAN 84 Vassar College Rotating, Bridgeport Hospital Bridgeport, Conn. CRUIKSHANK, DAVID G. 135 New York University Rotating, St. Vincent ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. DEMOS, MICHAEL A. 89 Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute Medicine, Uni ' . Hospitals of Columbus Columbus, Ohio DIAMOND, CHARLES G. 89 Vanderbilt University ' Medicine, Meadowbrook Hospital East Meadow, N.Y. DIBBLE, BURTON Kenyon College Family Practice, St. Joseph Health Center Syracu.se, N.Y. 25 FIELDS, ALAN I. S.U.N.Y., Buffalo Pediatrics, |ohns Hopkins Hospital Ballimore, Md. FINK, THEODORE 90 University of Rochester fi()(«finK, Medical Center of Vermont Burlington, Vt. FISCHER, RITA H. 57 Brooklyn College Pediatrics, Presbyterian Hospital New York, N.Y. FISHER, LYNDA K. Sinnnons College Pediatrics, Children ' s Hosp. of L.A. Los Angeles, Calif FLIGIEL, ALAN G. Cit College of New York Surgery, Mount Sinai Hospital New York, N.Y. FRANKEL, MARVIN H. 87 Tulane Universit Rohiting, Cedars-Sinai Med. Center Los .Angeles, C;dif FR.ATKIN, JONATH.AN 14 Universit) ' of Penns ' lvania Rotating, State Univ.- Iowa Hospitals Iowa City, Iowa FREED, JEFFREY S. 15 Brooklyn College Surgery, Mount Sinai Hospital New York, N.Y. FRONTER.- , ALFRED T. i Fmdh.im University Medicine, St. Vincent ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. GOLDBERG, D.AVID A. 141 Uui ersit of Penns l ania fi()(a«iig,NYU— Bellevue Med. Center New York, N.Y. GOLDBERG, SETII I. .Mass. Institute of Technology Pathology, Presbyterian Hospital Neu- York, N.Y. ' GOLDSTEIN, ANDREW L. 40 Ilarpur College Rotating, State LIniv. — Kings County Brookl™, N.Y. GOLDSVVEIG, HOWARD G. 126 Franklin and Marshall College Surgery, Univ. of Minnesota Hospital Minneapolis, Minn. GOODMAN, DANIEL J. 98 City College of New York Rotating, Mount Zion Hospital San Francisco, Calif GOODSTEIN, WALLACE A. Cit - College of New York Surgery, The New York Hospital New York, N.Y. GORDON, LLOYD B. Columbia University Rotating, Harkness Comniimity Hospital San Francisco, Calif GORDON, ROCHELLE HAI.MOVVITZ Barnard College Rotating, Mount Zion Hospital San Francisco, Calif. GOR.MLEY, DENNIS I. Fordhani College Surgery, The New York Hospital New York, N.Y. CKEEN, STEPHEN A. llaiAiud Oolli ' Kc Rotating. Mount Auhuni Hospital C ambi idgf, Mass. KAUFMAN, IRA S. (lolgate University Rotating. Montcfiori- Hospila New Voik, NY. LASSER, ROBERT B. ( ' oriiell lliiiveisity Mrclirinc, Moiitefiore Hospital Neu York, N.Y. 1.39 CUMER, ALAN A. 90 University ot Pittsburgh hark:, BETTE M. 28 St. M.ir ' s College (Notre Dame) Rotatinfi. St. ' incent ' s Hospital New Y ' ork, NY. IIARMAN, S. MITCHELL fil Eiiiorv Uuiversitv Medicine. Yale-New Haven Med. Cent -r Neu H.i eii, Conn. IIELLENBRAND, WILLLW I E. 150 BrookKn College I ' cdiatrics. Yale-New Ha eii Med. Center New Haven, Conn. HRYCIEN, CHRISTINE 20 .New York L ' niversit Rotating. State Univ. — Kings ( ' ount BrookKii, N.Y. HUTMAN, SAM.MY A. 1 Yeshiva College Medicine. Cone ' Island Hospital Brookl Ti, N.Y ' . ISA.-KCSON, FREDERICK Cit College of New York Rotating, Graduate Hosp. — Univ. of Penn. Philadelphia, Pa. ISIADINSO, OBINNA A. Uni ersity of Illinois Medicine, N.Y . Med. College — Metropolitan New York, N.Y. ISRAEL, JAMES B. City College of New York Medicine, Mainionides Hospital BrookKni, N.Y. JACKSON, HARRY E. 11 New York University Rotatitig, State Univ. — Kings Countv Brooklv-n, N.Y. KALLUS, RICHARD .57 (Cornell University Rotating, Lenox Hill Hospital New York, N.Y. KALM. MICHAEL A. 91 Bro iklyn College Rotating, General Rose Mem. Hospital Denver, Colorado KIMLKR, STEPHEN C. 72 Hiilgers l ' ni ( ' rsit — Newark Medicine. Y.ile— New Ha en Med. ( :enter New Haven, Conn. KING, JOEL H. 89 I ' liion College Rotating. Monteflore Hospital Neu York, NY. KIPP, 11. WINSTON 88 Williams College Roliiting. Medical Outer of ' eruiout Burlington, ' t. KLEIN, MICHAEL B. 14.3 Bethauv College Rotatitig. Moutefiore Hospital Neu York. N.Y. KOBLENTZ, DANIEL E. 14.5 Kenvon C ollege Rotating, L.A. Coimt — USC Med. ( ' enter Los . ngeles, Calif KORSHIN, JONATHAN 62 St. John ' s College Rotating, Tucson Med. Education Prog. Tucson, . rizona KRIEGMAN, LESLEY B. 17 L ' ui ersit ot Illinois Medicine. Univ. of 111. Affil. Hosp. Chicago, III. KRON, ELINOR S. 47 Cornell University Rotating, Monteflore Hospital New York, NY. KUEHNEL, EDWARD G. 108 lona College Rotating, Univ. of Oregon Med. Hosp. Portland, Oregon KULAK, ROBERT G. 91 Brown University Surgery, Mount Sinai Hospital New York, N.Y. KUTCHER, ROSALYN 88 City College of New York Medicine, .Monteflore Hospital New York, N.Y. LaMONT, JOHN M. 88 University of Southern California Rotating, L.. . Coi)nty Med. Center Los Angeles, Calif LAVI(;NE, JEFFREY E. .58 Rutgers University Surgenj, Madigan General (I ' .S. Army) Tacoma, Washington LEBOWITZ, MICHAEL E. S.U.N.Y., Bufi ' alo Surgeni. NYl ' — Belleviie Hospital New York, N.Y. LECIllCH, ANTHONY J. Manhattan College Medicine, St. Vincent ' s Hospit;il New York, N.Y. 26 100 KANE, LAWRENCE R. Providence College Rotating, Letterman General (U.S. . rmy) San Francisco, Calif. 142 LARSEN, ROBERT Hofstra University Rotating, St. Joseph Mercy Hospital .■ nn .-Xrbor, Mich. 94 LEIFER, MARVIN W. University of Chicago Rotating, Long Island Jeuish Hospity New Hyde Park, N.Y. LEIST, NANCY 81 New York University Medicine, State Univ.— Kings C ' ountv Brooklyn, N.Y. LeSAUV. GE, STEPHEN C. Dartmouth College Surgery, Pittsburgh Univ. Hospita Pittsburg, Pa. LEVINE, LOUISE E. 47 New Y ' ork University Medicine, Stiite Univ.— Kings County BrookKn, N.Y. LEVINE, MARTIN D. New York University Rotating, Cedars-Sinai Hospital Los . Vngeles, Calif. LEVINE, NEIL H. University of Pennsylvania Surgery, State Univ. — Kings County BrookKn, N.Y. LICHTMAN, EMILY A. 128 New York University Surgery, Maimonides Hospital Brooklyn, N.Y. LOBER, DAVID A. 110 Brooklyn College Surgery, U. of Fla., Wm. A. Shands Hosp. Gainesville, Florida LOPKIN, CARL Brooklyn College Surgery, Mount Siniii Hospital New York, N.Y. LOWENTHAL, IVAN S. 105 College of William and Mary Medicine, Univ. of Calif Hospitals San Francisco, ( alif LUNA, MARGOT 1 City College of New York Rotating, State Univ. — Kings Counts ' Brooklvii, N.Y. MALANGA, MICHAEL R. 103 Columbia University Medicine, St. Vincent ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. MANGIARACINA, JOSEPH A. 26 City College of New York Medicine. Lenox Hill Hospital New York, N.Y. MAR.WILL. , ANN K. 46 Indiana Universits Pediatrics, Ben Taub Children ' s Hosp. Houston, Texas MARAVILLA, KENNETH R. St. John ' s University Surgery, Ben Taub— V.. A. Hospital Houston, Texas MARCONE, FRANK Columbia University Pediatrics, Children ' s Hospital Buffalo, N.Y. MARINO, BRENDA L. 4( City College of New York Pediatrics, St. Luke ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. MARINO, JOSEPH 2: Manhattan College Medicine, State Univ.— Kings Counts Brooklyn, N.Y. MARKENSON, JOSEPH A. 47 Boston University, Rutgers Universit Medicine, State Univ. — Kings Counts Brooklyn, N.Y. MARKOWITZ, MELVIN 81 Queens College Medicine, St. Vincent ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. MASC. TELLO, VINCENT J. 96 Fordham University Rotating, San Francisco General Hosp. San Francisco, Calif MELTON, AL. N R. 5, Lafayette GoUege Medicine, Stiite Univ.— Kings Counts- BrookK n, N.Y. MERSON, MICHAEL H. Amherst College Medicine, Johns Hopkins Hospital B ' ' ' imore, Md. 1.38 MITLER, LLOYD K. Ness ' York L ' niversity Surgenj, Bronx Municipal Hosp. Center Bronx, NY. .MOCCIA, LOUIS F. IS Nesv York Universits ' Rotating, State Univ. — Kings Counts- Brooklvn, N.Y. MOGTADER, ALLEN H. 108 Columbia University Medicine, St. Luke ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. MUSTO, RICHARD V. 81 Manhattan College Rotating, St. Vincent ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. NUCCTO, PAUL J. 8f .Manhattan College Medicine, State Univ. — Kings Countv Brookls-n, N.Y. OLSTEIN, JOEL S. 89 Queens College Medicine, Maimonides Hospital Center Brooklsu, NY. PANC;, LEILA .M. 83 University of Hassaii Pediatrics, Presbsterian Hospital New York, N.Y. ' PASIK. LAWREN CE I. 11 Harpur College Pediatrics, Montefiore Hospital Nesv Y ' ork, N.Y. PEARL, WILLIAM R. 9 Queens College Pediatrics, Montetlore Hospital New York, N.Y. PENNISI, ALFRED J. 2 City- College of Nesv York Pediatrics, h. . Counts — USC Med. Cent. Los .Angeles, Calif PERESS, JAMILE A. 13 City College — School of Engineering Medicine, Bronx Municipal Hosp. Center Bronx, N.Y. PERL, SEYMOUR 128 Yeshiva College Medicine, State Univ. — Kings Counts Brooklyn, N.Y. PERTCHIK, ALAN F. 141 Columbia University Medicine, State Univ.— Kings Counts Brooklvn, N.Y. PFEIFFER, PAUL L. Gettysberg College Rotating, Queens Hospitiil Honolulu, Hasvaii PITRE, THOMAS M. 143 Northsvestern Universits- Rotating, Univ. of Oregon Med. Hosp. Portland, Oregon RAMOS, WILLIAM D. 47 Dartmouth College Rotating, State Univ.— Kings Coiuits Brookis n, X.Y. RANIOLO, GEORGE R. Adelphi Universits Rotating, Naval Hospital St. Albans, N.Y. REILLY, KEVIN B. Manhattan College Rotating, St. Vincent ' s Hospital New York, N.Y. REITER, ALVIN City College of Ness York Surgery, Bronx Municipal Hosp. Center Bronx, N.Y. ROSENSTEIN, MARTIN J. Nesv York Universits- Pediatrics, Montefiore Hospital New York, N.Y. ROSSI, BEVERLY A. Rutgers I ' niversits ' — Nesvark Pediatrics. Children ' s Hospital Buffalo, N.Y. ROTE, ALAN R. Harsard College Surgery, Boston C;its-, B.U. Div Boston, Mass. RUBIN, STANLEY W. 59 (,)ueens (U)llege Medicine. State Univ. — Kings County Brooklsu, N.Y. RY. N, JOSEPH J. 41 Notre Dame Universitx- Medicine. Buffalo Gen ' l— Meser Mem. Buffalo, N.Y. SAKOWITZ, BARRY H. 144 Polytechnic Institute of Brooklsu Rotating, Meadosvbrook Hospitid East Meadosv, N.Y. SAUER, FERDINAND Unisersits- of Pittsburgh Rotating, Naval Hospital San Diego, Calif. 118 MEYER, NORMAN I. Cornell University Medicine, Emory Univ. Hosp. ' . . Atlantii, Georgia PETRESHOCK, EDWARD P. 98 St. John ' s U.— College of Pharniiics Medicim, Long Island lesvish Hospital New Hyde Park, N.Y. SCHNEIDER, MORTON 9( Dalhousie Universits- Mcdicine. State Univ.— Kings County Brooklyn, N.Y. SCHOFFERMAN, jKHOMK A. Hutjit ' is UiiivfisilN lUiliitiiig. 1,.A. CiHiiitN-H.irlnir (; iifi.il I.os Anyrli , Calil. SCIH I.LKH, DIANE Hi Ml Mawi Colltw I ' l-diatiks. Koosf flt llcispUal New York. N.V. SCHWAKTZ, CHARLES |. i lufts I ' liivoisitv Mcdirim: Unix-. oFOre ' on V.A. I ' ditl.uul. Oreuon SCIIW AHTZ. PETER L. (,)iu-fiis(:ollfgf Medicine. Long Island U ' uisli lliisp. New HydfPark, N.Y. .SELTER, L. RENCE F. I. ' ni cisity of Michigan Pi ' diatricn, Syracuse Medical (a-iiter .S racuse. N.Y. SELTER, PHYLLIS R. Barnard College Pediatrics, Syracuse Medical C ' enter Syracuse, N.Y ' . SHAMSEY, ROBERT J. Colgate Uni ' ersitv Pediatries. Boston ' Cit Hosp.— B.U. Div. Boston. Mass. SPKARS, JAMES R. 1( (, iieens College Medieiiie, New York Hospital- Memorial New York. NY. SPEARS. W II.I.IAM H. Ouecns College Medicine. U.S. Puhlu lle.ihli Servici S.in Francisco, Calil. STICLITZ, AVERY ( S.l ' .N.Y., Butlalo Koldtin . U.S. N.ival Hospital li. ' llies.l.i, M.iiaI.ukI STOKES, NOR.MAN A. (a)Micll llni ersit Meilicinc, Maimonides Hospit.il BrookKii. N.Y. SWEHDLOW. FREDERICK 11. 10.3 (.)ueens College Medicine. Mount Sinai Hospital New York. N.Y. TESSLER, SIDNEY Yeshixa College Medicine, Maimonides Hospital BrookKn, NY. TRAININ, EUGENE B. 128 Columbia I ' uiversit) Pediatrics, State Univ.— Kings Cx)iint - BrookKn, N.Y. rrUl,I,l, PAUL A. 127 Adelphi Uni crsil Medicine, State L ' uiv.— Kings Coimtv Brooklyn, N.Y. WALD. .ALLAN .58 Peiiiis Kaiiia State Uiiiversit Medicine. Long Island Icwisli Hospital New Hyde Park, NY. WALLACE, HENRIETTA P. 118 Hunter (College Rntatinfi. Long Island lewisli Hospit.il New Ihde Park. N.Y. WANDERMAN, NANCY C. 46 Vassar College Peiliatrics. State Univ. — Kings (Jount) ' Brooklyn, N.Y. UEISFOCJEL, GERALD M. 10.3 Yesliiva Universit ' Mediciue. L ' .S. Public Health Service St.iten Isl.md, N.Y. W EISSMAN, JOEL . I. 126 Franklin and Marshall College Rolatiiifi. .Albert Einstein Med. Center Philadelphia, Pa. WHELAN, GERALD P. 1,34 .M.mh.ittan College Rotating. The Brookd;Je Hosp. Center BrookKn, N.Y. SHULMAN, LEON.ARD A. 101 Washington University Pediatrics. Boston Citv Hosp. — B.U. Div. Boston, Mass. TRENTHA.M, REGINALD 122 New York University Medicine. Indiana Univ. Med. 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