New Jersey College of Medicine - Journal Yearbook (Jersey City, NJ)

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and some smiled. The class held various jobs that summer- RESEARCH FELLOWSHIPS, EXTERNSHIPS, TEACH- ING. WEDDING BELLS rang out for some and for others it was basking in the sunshine. But like all good things, it came to an end too quickly and September arrived. Now, the veterans returned to Jersey City. The first year was spent learning the normal. Now the abnormal, the dis- eased, was to be mastered. We spent the first day going through the routine of registration and renewing old ac- quaintances. The confusion and apprehension, which char- acterized the beginning of our first year, were not as evi- dent now. As we looked about, we could not help but notice those no longer with us. We had mixed emotions-sad for them but glad for us. Again, we were welcomed by the re- spective department chiefs, DR. HUGH GRADY of the DE- PARTMENT of PATHOLOGY and DR. BERNIE BRIODY of MICROBIOLOGY. From the very beginning, our role was clear-these subjects were rough and it was our task to mas- ter them. Once again, the classroom and laboratory became our second home. The lectures, we noticed, were terse and much was left to our own initiative. The microscope again was our companion as we studied the fine structure of disease, the monotony only broken by the monotoned, pseudo-phil- osophical RAMBLINGS OF DR. SHARPE or the sweet aroma of DR. SALGADO'S PIPE. We contaminated our- selves, our friends, and everything else in the vicinity in microbiology lab. We took guinea pigs and injected them with something or other and if it came out it was positive, if not, it's not. Something was lacking in the path-tests. But, this lack was more than compensated for in micro- biology. Never have I seen people hoping just for a D. Friday afternoons were marked by a struggle to get through a C.P.C. All sorts of diagnoses were made, and can anyone forget Jimmy Murphy calling a resident? To add to the apprehension of this, our SECOND YEAR, we were plagued by rumors that Seton Hall College of Medicine would close it doors. A long battle between city and university culminated in the dismissal of DR. JUDY as Chief of Surgery of the Medical Center. Protests from the university were apparently of no avail. Meetings, of course, were behind closed doors, and much was left to one's imagi- nation. Despite the too quiet reassurances of the administra- tion, rumors of every conceivable kind arose. 645 Bergen Ave. was relatively quiet that semester and 133 Clifton Place only rarely rang out with merriment. For amidst the confusion and anxiety, FINAL EXAMS were quickly upon us. No one knew exactly where they stood in pathology but, unfortunately, we all knew exactly where we stood in microbiology. Our class had the dubious distinction of having 44 out of 75 people with a grade less tha-n C. So, who cares about -viruses anyway? You canit kill them with penicillin! But, a faint smile appeared on our lips during the sec- ond semester of' that year for we were about to take some- thing CLINICAL.', We were introduced to the Art and Sci- ence of PHYSICAL DIAGNOSIS by DR. MORTIMER SCHWARTZ. How proud we were as we carried our LIT- TLE BLACK BAGS each Wednesday and Saturday and placed our STETHOSCOPES on chests hoping to hear PFTT-TA-DA-RHUUHY' And, as we banged and poked each other and unsuspecting patients, DR. MURRAY NUSS- BAUM showed us what was to be our constant companion for the next two years-the technique for doing a CBC and an URINALYSIS. Now this is what we called HMEDICINEY' People even called us DOCTOR ! Sure we traveled to re- mote places on the globe like STATEN ISLAND and PAT- TERSON, sure we took notes like crazy as giants of medi- cine, like DRS. HOWARD and WEISSE lectured to us on subjects ranging from bleeding gums to rectal polyps, but this was what Medicine was like-ignorance is bliss. We were tested now in a different way-by a- proctor standing by as we asked- ever had syphilis, lady? And, who can forget MUSICAL HEARTSD? Medical school became fun and we, of course, cele- brated in the usual places and in the usual way. But, de- spite all this, we knew that the fate of the medical school was still uncertain. Except for the JERSEY JOURNAL, news- papers were rallying to the side of the school urging the politicians to mend the differences and keep the medical school, the only one in the state, in Jersey City. And now the state began to take an interest. So the year ended. No one really took the final exams in lab medicine and physical diagnosis too seriously, and We felt confident that the third year would be the best year yet. Although the academic year ended, no one could really relax. For before us lay the ominous NATIONAL BOARDS, a six part examination designed to test our knowledge in each of the basic sciences. Each of the department chair- men had stressed how well the previous class had done and how we had to better their performance. How we tried in two weeks time to review all we had learned and learn all we had not. After those twelve gruelling and seemingly in- finite hours of filling in the blanks, we had a pretty fair idea of how much we didn't know. Again, the waiting per- iod-for our scholastic and Board marks. Again SADNESS and FRUSTRATIONS, again ELATION and' JOY. The summer vacation was shortened that year because of the National Boards. As we assumed our various positions, the thought of beginning our clinical years engendered ex- citement and expectation. September finally came and as we donned our WHITES and lifted our BLACK BAGS, the SYMBOLS OF STATUS, we were again saddened because of those left behind. But, in the tradition of our predecessors, we went on. Because of previous, confusing, unexplained, and. un- fortunate circumstances, numbers of the class began to travel from familiar Jersey City to outlying areas for their SUR- GERY and PSYCHIATRY CLERKSHIPS and OBSTETRICS were no longer part of our rotation.

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REFACE This Annual represents a collection of illustrations of our medical school life-four years as we saw them. Some has been forgotten, much has been omitted, but the significant mem- ories . . . the faces . . . the thoughts . . . and the humor, we have attempted to record in this Journal. c. 1. P. A. E. W. It was unusually warm for SEPTEMBER 10, about 750, and the eighty-odd students who gathered in the main au- ditorium of the JERSEY CITY MEDICAL CENTER wore summer attire. Small beads of perspiration were evident on everyone's forehead which could have been due to anxiety. For all of us were gathered on that autumn day of 1962 to begin four years of medical school, four years toward the fulfillment of an aspiration which began who knows when. We came from forty different colleges and universities throughout the Eastern United States, but we all had one thing in common now-we were students at SETON HALL COLLEGE OF MEDICINE and we wanted to become Doc- tors of Medicine. It all really began back in the junior year of undergrad- uate school when, before we even knew what a medical school looked like, we took the MEDICAL COLLEGE APTITUDE TEST. This test would decide for many if they would even be enrolled in a medical school, and for others it would decide where they would spend their next four years. The tests were gruelling and quite extensive in their subject matter. We probably gained an awareness then of what medical school was like. That summer was spent read- ing bulletins, filling out application forms, writing out checks, and waiting. That was the hard part-waiting. And, we wait- ed, also, in our senior year for INTERVIEWS and letters of acceptance. The interviews came as did those same trite questions: WHY MEDICINE? WI-IY THIS MEDICAL SCHOOL? Sure, we all had our own answers-some of them very idealistic some of them seemingly childish. Again, we waited for the letters, and they came- We regret to in- form you . . VVE ARE PLEASED TO INFORM YOU . . .', FRUSTRATION and SADNESS became SATISFAC- TION and ELATION. Little did we know then that these elements. of emotion would recur again and again. Out of the thousands of applications, we EIGHTY-ONE were to form the first year class of Seton Hall College of Medicine in 1962. So, we sat in that auditorium and listened to then AS- SISTANT DEAN LEWIS welcome us and try to instill in us the meaning and value of medical education and what was expected of us during our next four years. He was brief but exact. He was followed, however, by a more ex- hausting speaker, MR. RAUCH, the librarian. I don't think anyone knew what he said. -Afterwards, we walked stead- fastly to the BASIC SCIENCE BUILDING to fill out var- ious REGISTRATION forms, pay our TUITION, be photo- graphed, get our lockers and lab coats, etc., ad nauseam. Books, of course, were another problem. Rumors started then as to which was THE Book. But, they all seemed to be the same ridiculous price, and so we thought it wouldn't make and difference-eenie meenie-very professional. Our schedule was handed to us and we studied it carefully: ANATOMY, anatomy, and more anatomy, gross and micro. But, whatis this on wednesday afternoon: GENETICS AND STATISTICS?? We then began our formal medical education with a welcome by DR. PIN CKNEY HARMAN, anatomist and folk singer, and DR. MAY HOLLINSHEAD, a woman, 'nuff said. These two people, together with DRS. TASSONI AND HEATH, would in the next three months guide us in normal anatomy as seen through a microscope. The next day, how- ever, we met the real Dr. Waterloo, BOCCABELLA by name. Anxiety mounted still further as we entered the anat- omy lab to meet our real anatomy teachers-THE CADAV- ERS. Can anyone forget theirs? It was over the dissecting table and lab benches that friendships began to be mould- ed. During that first week, we had our initial class functions. The first was the FRESHMAN-SOPHOMORE PARTY held at Franks May and Tony danced the two step .... The second came as Tony Scialla banged his gavel for the elec- tion of CLASS OFFICERS. No one really knew anyone else but we took our chances. Tom O'-something was elected president, Rick Algran Vice President, Rose Marie Aportabco Secretary, and Liny Pieli as Treasurer. We then began to- feel at ease, but this was premature for tests began to rule our lives. In that first semester, we struggled through seven written anatomy exams, four prac- ticals, five cross sections, and the unbelievable DR. MIRAN- TI with the anatomy of the human body in seven hours, not to mention, of course, the incomparable, ambidextrous DR. HOUVDE and what's my lesion. ' As we licked our wounds, we entered the more sophisti- cated second semester to endure BIOCHEMISTRY and PHYSIOLOGY. Here again, exams would wreck our nervous systems and turn us into caffeine and nicotine addicts. If we would learn nothing else from DRS. OPDYKE, LITTLE, KAHN, and SMITH, we would learn to be exact and punc- tual. The functions of homo sapiens, we soon learned, was not an easy thing to grasp. And, just WHAT IS COMPLI- ANCE ? The spring months were spent in the biochemis- try lab boiling urine and watching little dots climb paper. The fudge factor was rampant. Lest the reader believe that this year was nothing but gloom, let me intezject a point. True to form of medical stu- dents everywhere, we had our parties. The fourth floor of 645 Bergen Ave. was the scene of many-ORGIES is a bit strong. Summer finally came and, after completion of final exams, some of us took our leave of jersey City. We all, of course, wondered whether we would be together again the following year. Again came a period of waiting-for marks this time. When they did arrive, some wept, some sighed,

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New for us were the practices of BLOOD LETTING, STARTING I.V.'s, TAKING EKG's, DOING CBC's ad nau- searn, and all the other delicacies reserved for the low man on the totem pole. On MEDICINE, we dreaded the TWENTY PAGE WRITE-UPS, the FORBIDDING LONG HOURS, SITTING UP WITH GI BLEEDERS, MONITOR- ING THE M.I.,s, those redundant LAB TESTS, and CON- FUSING ABBREVIATIONS. This, of course, was intermix- ed with four hour LECTURES twice a week, numerous CONFERENCES, and being a WHIPPING BOY for the res- ident and intern while at the same time spending hours in the stacks LOOKING for x-rays and CALLING the central lab four times a day for serum calcium levels. All this was to help us lose weight, precipitate neuroses, and become better doctors-- I think. By the time we left the ward serv- ice, We knew too well the meaning of STAT and the value of knowing one's patient. The SURGERY CLERKSHIP was held at the V.A. HOS- PITAL in EAST ORANGE, a formidable structure whose cafeteria boasted the finest DOUGHNUTS on the east coast and for just a nickel. There were many gripes about the ro- tation: the indifferent attitude towards students, the inabili- ty to do anything, the fourth man to scrub, holding the idiot sticks, poor surgical material, and, finally, a lack of clinical faculty to teach. The rotation was highlighted, however, by DR. SEEBODE's PEARLS and the fanaticism of DR. SAD- OFF. During this time, new class officers were elected with Pat Flannery as President, Bill Mroczek as Vice President, Kathy Whelan as Secretary, and Tony Scialla as Treasurer. In December of our junior year, the Legislature of the State of New Jersey voted to assume operation of the only medical school in New Jersey, now the NEW JERSEY COL- LEGE OF MEDICINE. Many believed the transition was for the best, but black clouds lay ahead. There was no dras- tic change in our lives now that our school was State own- ed-not even the tuition changed. In any event, second semester rolled around after a seemingly brief Christmas vacation. A sight to behold was the young doctor, suave, debon- naire, and quite egotistical facing the young child, crying, dirty, and quite bratty. Those whites were no longer white after an afternoon in PEDS CLINIC. We learned then how to perform a physical exam under the most adverse circum- stances. Meanwhile, we watched with awe as DR. KUSH- NICK formulated his DIFFERENTIAL DIAGNOSIS of broken fingernails or as DR. BEHRLE very casually dis- cussed anything under the sun. But again those damned CBC's drove us mad. WVe were temporarily relieved of SCUT as we began GYNECOLOGY. How shyly and hesitantly the Don Juanls got their fingers wet. But after a few weeks, we also were saying: O.K., honey, relax, in the tradition of Al Elmer. P.I.D. became a by word in our vocabulary. And, finally, the piece-de-resistance, PSYCHIATRY. We were greeted at OVERBROOK HOSPITAL by the hy- pomanic DR. HENRY A. DAVIDSON, author, lawyer, edi- 6 tor, after dinner speaker, and letter writer. At first, we were amused by the staff. One poor patient was classified as dis- oriented when he asked: What day today is it here now? But soon we became bored and PING-PONG and PINO- CHLE began to fill our every hour. During the spring months, plans for the formulation of a STUDENT COUNCIL, long recognized as very necessary, were established. Although the full organization of this group was not to be, at least in our day, it was, nevertheless, a beginning. Contemporary with this was the first edition of THE CHART, a student publication edited by BILL MROCZEK whose topics ranged from News Capsulesf to lambasting the Department of Psychiatry-a very flexible volume. As the year ended, the dread of final exams was upon us. We had heard that the MEDICINE EXAM was impos- sible, but we were soon to find out for ourselves. The looks on our faces must have been priceless as TIGER JIM handed us those 40 page epochs which were only Parts I and II. Parts III and IV were to be held on a separate day. This was only because the pick-up truck would stall every time he tried to load all the exams on it. After six hours, the exam actually began to get funny. Surgery and Gynecology were quite benign in comparison even though one had to guess which REVIEW BOOK DR. RIVA would take his questions from this time. Our final and what was supposed to be our most grati- fying year was one that was characterized by confusion and disenchantment. This was the year that our alma mater was to become an interim school. It all began quite normally, but then things began to disintegrate. We were to begin our Christmas vacation when we received those unforgetable letters informing us that we were no longer affiliated with J.C.M.C. No prob- lem, chanted our leaders, for there are hospitals from Trenton to Boston being investigated . . . and WE WILL CENTRALIZE .... ', So our classmates were off to BELLEVUE and BOS- TON, to NEWARK, to TRENTON, to ELIZABETH, and to STATEN ISLAND. And now a new clinical rotation was introduced . . . COMMUNITY MEDICINE, whatever that is? During the final five months, however, we were to obtain our results from the NATIONAL INTERN MATCH- ING PROGRAM, sign our contracts, take PART II of the NATIONAL BOARD EXAMINATIONS, and, for all prac- tical purposes, finish our senior year . . . REJOICE and HALLELEUJAHl But this was not enough, for the day we were long awaiting, the day we aimed for on that warm morning in September of 1962 finally arrived - - JUNE 4, 1966. It was on this day that the battle-weary veterans, the student doctors, were awarded the degree of DOCTOR OF MEDICINE . . . yet this is only the beginning. R. F. C.