Temple University School of Medicine - Skull Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

Page 14 text:

Suddenly a fight broke out in the back and the lad with the black socks and sunglasses went down with a thud. All hell broke loose. No one knew what to do. The chubby lad was motionless on the floor, turning grey. Then light dawned. We were medical students: future doctors. Snyapscs fired and each contributed his or her own inspired medical opinion. Give him a barium enema.” Don’t lift a finger until you’re sure he has insurance.” If he was a marine, he could have properly defended himself. Let the son—of—a—bitch die.” “See if she he has any oesophageal oedema in her his throat; any medical student knows that.” Let’s gram stain his sputum. 10

Page 13 text:

The first day it was all about to begin. I made my way down the hallway and into Lecture Room A . I wondered if anyone else was as nervous as I. No, everyone else is too brilliant to be concerned with such matters. My supposition was confirmed when I sat down and marveled at the admirable maturity, the singleness of purpose, the sincerity of heart and the intellectual capacity of those around me. The first hour of orinetation went very well — organized, crystal clear. A case of diabetes was presented and my fellow students asked questions about glucose tolerance tests, nephropathies, retinopathies etc.. I just sort of sat there hebephrenically and pretended that I knew what they were talking about. 9

Page 15 text:

 Kiss him you silly bumpkins. Perhaps wc should gel a doctor. I just read an article about this very thing in the Cowpoker’s Journal of Medicine. Nothing seemed to revive the dying lad. Then the miracle happened. He was an incredible hulk of a man. He leaped from his chair like a gazelle and smoothly glided to the aid of the greying student. Our hero pounded on the lad’s chest and flipped him over. The greyness lifted: life had been restored. Who was this Man - Mountain?