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

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would require them after participating in the National Boards' new, improved method of scoring to be instituted on our Part IPs.) Anyway, back to Dr. Bhatt... he is to be congratulated on the quality of his lectures. Each was presented entirely from memory, yet the clarity and organization far exceeded that of the lectures given by most other members of our distinguished faculty. Anesthesiology was a real sleeper of a course... that is, until the final grades came out. The posted grades had ateramine -like effect on 8 of the class members. The Anesthesiology Eight had officially come into being. With visions of ketamine nightmares looming on the horizon, the viii wrote for CAPS prn relief, with substitution permissible, of course, to make up for Dr. Green's vacated seat. Passing grades were induced and Bier block parties became the order of the day. Dr. Harvey Lemont's Pod. Path, was another one of the few exceptions. He taught a course which was not only pertinent but it was organized, detailed and unusually punctate and sharply circumscribed. His exams were a challenge, but it was refreshing to find questions which were well written and clinically oriented. Dr. Kidawa (say Kee dah' vah ), whose armamentarium of wordage assisted in restoration of our recomforture that accurate prognostication of the status pertaining to adequate vascularization of the pedal extremities can be ascertained qualitatively and quantitaviely both auditorily and via visualization through the continual emission of diagnostic ultrasonic energy (i.e. Doppler), taught PVD. The above-mentioned technique permits accurate evaluation of each of the digits... from the hallucal toe to the minute quintal appendage. Of course, we didn't actually learn how to use the Doppler. Instead, we finished the course fully qualified to perform quadruple Circle-of-Willis angioplasties. As a result of our resultant Podiatric inadequacies, many of our patients succumbed to TIA's (transient interdigital attacks). Our first exposure to Podiatric Surgery, although limited in terms of caseload, had no shortage when it came to didactics (but what else is new?). Between Dr. Novicki promoting Zimmer ( the biggest outfit going ) and Dr. Man-dracchia as our fearless Silon baseship leader, we marched through sterile fields laden with Sta-pegs, pigs-in-holes, pigs-in-blankets and even Bone Boxes! from an era long past. . . but we still had no Embryo handouts to show for our struggles. Our close encounter of the second kind with Dr. Whitney was one for the record books. He had some interesting thoughts on treating patients which were rather. . . unorthodox, to say the least. You surely recall him discussing one of his favorite topics (with his icon of Dudley Morton ensconed in his breast pocket); partially compensated, se-miconvex first ray elevato-cavus. The treatment of which is as follows: cast for a CMO for the symptomatic foot, posting the neutral position to the obturator inferior mode while keeping the first ray entirely off the ground. An alternative method that sometimes works is to place an RWCO (right wing cruiser orthotic) on the foot with the pathology and nail the other foot to the floor. Two days later, light them both on fire and stuff the ashes into someone's subtalar joint . . . yeah . . . yeah . . . let's go with it. There were other incidents which left scars upon the Class of 84 as well. Dr. Bruno's brutal assault on Phil Dao during a crutch-walking demonstration led to a widely publicized United Nations walkout by the South Vietnamese delegation. Not until the Department of Medicine sent a year's supply of analgesic balm (the odorless form, of course) to the U. N. did this protest end. Luckily for our sake, some succinct illustrations by Dr. Stowers helped clear up any confusion regarding the use of crutches. . . . And let's not forget that memorable session on muscle testing where our class volunteer made it an unparalled success by piercing through modesty and exposing to us more than we ever cared to see about the testing of certain muscles. Dr. Helfand's course probably was applicable, but since the point was not specifically addressed in old tests we cannot say with any degree of certainty whether that statement is TRUE or FALSE. But seriously, we salute Dr. Helfand for his efforts and accomplishments as APA President, and we wish him continued success (as warden) at the James C. Guiffre Medical Center. Dr. Jay transcended two semesters with his podo-acro-batics class. He expertly combined gymnastics with didactics in a manner which no one could duplicate (with the possible exception of Dr. Steven Kravitz). We learned such a voluminous amount of pediatrics that by the end of the year no one thought it necessary to do the externship at JFK-Phila. (much to Dr. Jay's chagrin). And who could forget that many students were brutally trampled in the stampede to Dr. Jay's office to turn in research topics in time to be exempted from the midterm. Fortunately, the more severely injured had their Q angles restored free of charge. By the end of third year, our class, sick of seeing each other day in day out for the past few years, was beginning to grow apart. It was finally over, this year that they told us would seem to have no end. By now we knew how we would be spending the fourth year and for the most part, anticipated it with excitement. We could-hardly believe that in less than one year we would be graduating. . . and we had better gain as much clinical knowledge and experience as was possible... just in case. Yes, we had picked our externships, planned our heavy duty bobbing strategies, and officially. . . the residency hunt was on! Our garbled thoughts and emotions about the third year can best be summed up in a song: (To the tune of Overkill by Men At Work ) I can't get to sleep I worry about palliation Debriding down too deep Iatrogenic laceration Especially at night I think about those PM presentations And hope they work out right Perhaps it's just imagination Day after day We appear Night after night My heartbeat shows the fear Chip and clip and pad away (Chorus) 13

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for us to treat. The latter part of the year saw us finally getting some pertinent clinical courses: Physical Diagnosis, Introduction to Podiatric Surgery, and Introduction to (real) Surgery. The last course mentioned couldn't have been easier to pass even if they'd given us a copy of the final before the actual exam. Hey! Wait a minute... they did! Wouldn't you know it. . . . there always has to be one in the crowd: One guy, whose name won't be mentioned (but his initials are Ed. Fremer.) really screwed up. He knew the FBI had just installed new TV monitors in room 319... this didn't seem to matter as ol' Ed still carried in his cheat sheats. For those of us who chose to catch up on our sleep during Clinical Observation, our first day of treating patients in summer clinic produced quite the sympathetic discharge. . . more than one student, upon being handed that first chart froze in their own puddle of urine and pleaded, ''What do I do Now?” National Boards was quite another surprise. We had the pleasure of abusing Dr. Whincman, for he was under the belief that ”B” was the answer for the test. Lucky for him, he just barely passed. .. his good fortune was owed to the fact that for many of the questions, the answer was ”B' ACT III The third year was an interesting potpourri of clinic rotations, allied facilities, long afternoons in class, and the advent of. . . that's right!. . . patellar orthotics, for those industrious students trying to get ahead in the residency game. Thrilled at the prospect of being through with the basic sciences, but horrified at the stories of the coming year, we waited in silent anticipation at our Welcome back coffee and donuts”, semi-prepared to be turned loose in the nail farm. This year, we were destined to spend our grueling mornings healing the thousands of indigents literally beating down the fifty-cent shower curtains attempting to experience our mystical mending powers. This energy seemed to flow as we'd engage in The Laying On Of The Goniometers ... and of course, we didn't do this alone: we have THE BOYS to thank for their guidance. . . The Clinic Boys, that is: Karpo, Mags and Kwas. In clinic, in our comprehensive history taking, we became aware of the existance of many new and exciting disorders from which our patients claimed to have suffered. . . Fleabites, Fireballs of the Eucharist, The Grouch, and Two Buckets of Locusts were several of the more interesting diseases encountered. Thanks to the vast surgical experience most of us had during this year, we became artists of the pre-op workup: from shuffling patients form the insurance office to the phlebotomy lab; to explaining why they needed CAT scans, rectal exams, and adrenal function tests for a simple P and A (after all, we wouldn't want to give a phone booth to an Addison). Each afternoon following clinic we'd don our straight jackets and file into the dimly-lit room 236 (that well-padded cell on the sec- ond floor in which each of us had earned a rightful spot.) It could have been the effects of too much time being spent in our windowless padded cell but, as a group, we really started to weird out: arguing about a vote to determine whether or not we needed to hold a lottery to see who would get to participate in the lottery is a prime example. Our attitudes changed concerning grades: from the timid students we were first and second years trying our best for a good grade and hoping that they didn't try to flunk us. . . to the cocky third years shooting for the Almighty ”P” and daring them to even try and flunk us (this attitude reached its zenith at the end of the year and can be summed up in just one word: ''Unity''!) Even our attitudes towards our fellow students took a turn for the worse... In a situation where a premium should be placed on learning and intelligent inquisitivness, we had the audacity to limit the number of stupid questions to two per student per lecture. Some people were so embarrassed by our sudden shift to the left, they changed their names hoping that they could dissociate from this beast (the Class of 84); but hiding behind names like Phil” and Berkley didn't fool anyone. .. we still knew who they were. And, in an effort to broaden our scope, we instituted an exchange program with the other Podiatry schools and made our first one to one trade with California... Lee Techner for Bart Edwards. It's still too early to judge the degree of success of the swap. Our classes during third year covered a wide range of topics. Some were well taught, while others were... well... you get the idea. Truly spanning this spectrum were the dreaded dynamic duo of third year... Derm and Neuro... to be discussed separately of course. Derm was presented as a somewhat less than fascinating array of macules, vasculitities, purpuric marmorato, Hen-och-Schoenlein livido reticulares... and whatever else you can possibly imagine that is red and or bumpy. Also, we were lucky enough to be presented with Dermatogly-phics, the almost forgotten language of the skin specialists of Ancient Egypt. Imagine our delight! Yes, Dermatology did provide us with a great deal of useful. . .. zzzzzzz. .. Oh! So Sorry, just dozed off! Dr. Witkowski, while reading at Vi the speed of light, strove to make the course second to none by giving us every dermatological disease known to man. .. and quite a few extra he surely fabricated from his imagination. . . come on now, from where did he pull this one? Toasted Skin Syndrome.... what did he take us for, idiots?!?? Ah yes, and what about the 14,000 slides he so expertly blended into one two-trimester long, third-rate motion picture, the monotonic drone of which just seemed to sedate us into a nice nap? His best line of the year came early on, Who's the note-taker for this lecture today. . . that Terrell babe again? On the other side of the coin-shaped lesion (or nummular, for you purists) was Dr. (Vampire) Bhatt. With his haunting stare and superb visual aids, his manner of instruction captured our consciousness the moment we entered the room. The most difficult time our class had with Dr. Bhatt was trying to coax him into giving us only 8 points on the midterm instead of the 12 he had originally intended. (We had hoped to sell the extra 4 points to Howard Nuss who had recently secured a position with the APA as the Council of Teaching Hospital's official Test Point Broker . Mr. Nuss would in turn, sell the points to those of us who 17

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I can't get to sleep Those lesions they keep reoccuring Reappoint 'em in six weeks Patients leaving and then returning Especially at night I think about those situations That might be surgerized And it's just overkill (Chorus) I can't get to sleep These classes give me agitation Counting empty seats Or cutting without hesitation Working just to pass Doesn't give much consolation Or take 'em all to CAPS 'Cause it's just overkill (D. Robin '84) Act IV •For Your Information: Rearfoot varus has been chosen as the Official Deformity of the U.S. Summer Olympics The news hit like a bomb; the replacement for Dr. Green was going to revamp our surgery check-off sheets. Dropped would be: surgical redressing, suture removal and xray interpretation. Added on would be: liver biopsy, lumbar puncture, and modified radical mastectomy. This, supposedly, is part of the 4th Reich plans to put PCPM in its rightful place as the World Foot Health Center. Yes, once again PCPM is forging new paths on the frontiers of podiatry in an effort to push our legal boundaries clear up to and including T3. Don't hold me to it, but this move may take us international! Fourth year was very unlike any other that went before. Spending only a portion of the year at PCPM, we seemed to miss the important advances here at home that would mean more to us in our futures as Podiatrists than any residency any of us could procure. . . or not. A significant portion of our last year was spent in extern-ships, rotating through various hospitals. We tended to get more experience in these few months than the many months we spent in clinic. Being familiar with the departments of PM, Diagnosis and Physical Medicine, many of us were impressed with with those departments found in real hospitals: Ob-Gyn, Gastroenterology and Oncology. . . imagine, an entire floor devoted solely to the diseases of the nail! Some the research here at PCPM was being expertly conducted by the new Chairman of Chairman of Orthopedics. Dr. William Sanner, coming from the California School where biomechanics is the Force that governs the Universe, did some remarkable things with rohadur ''magic shovels : having already had limited success in the treatment of diverticulitis and spina bifida, he has at this writing submitted a proposal seeking approval for testing in those suffering from cryptorchidism. The Podocardiology Department has recently announced that the Electrodynagram has already proved it- self useful in the diagnosing of myo-metatarsal infarction (MMI) of the second metatarsal. News the implications of which are almost endless! Dr. Lemont, no newcomer to Podiatric Research, is soon to publish the results of two projects he recently completed: He reported that he can completely cure uncompensated rearfoot varus with an IM injection of a modified steroid cocktail composed of Icc Kenalog 40, 2cc of Dewars Scotch whisky and 3cc of latex. It's been dubbed Harvey's Bristol Cream Cocktail , and should receive FDA approval by the end of '84. Also, a small group working under Dr. Lemont's guidance have developed a MIS procedure for Morton's neuroma... implantation of a tiny nuclear warhead in the affected interspace. Thus far, the incidence of recurrance of the lesion has been 0% but, unfortunately, all the subjects have been mysteriously lost to follow-up. Relatcdly, a new nail procedure has been described by Dr. Orowitz and is called the A and N. . . avulsion and nuclear destruction of the nail matrix. Alas, the total amount of destruction thus far has proven difficult to contain. He is, however, awaiting NRC approval for this procedure, the indications for which are similar for the outmoded P A. The portion of the fourth year actually spent at PCPM was pretty much as we had expected: dumping all the paperwork onto our third years, filing in line for the countless pre-ops, and dodging PM charts as we perched in the smoking lounge (or the elevator lobby in a previous life). A nice change was spending afternoons in clinic instead of sitting in some boring lecture. Of course, being our usual selves, this didn't satisfy us either and then we had something else to bitch about. I guess you could say that on Wednesday afternoons. . . we finally got out Embreeville handouts! Our only classes were Practice Management, Practice Radiology, and Practice-On The-Cadavers-Before-We-Turn-You-Loose... speaking of which, why did we have to take the practical even if we didn't take the course?? Why didn't we get the choice of taking the reverse option. . . that is, to take the course without the practical. Some things never change! With all our visiting and bobbing for that special program out of the way, it's hard to imagine that we're almost through spending four years together. Hopefully, we've learned enough to practice if that Residency or Preceptor-ship hasn't come through. There are some of us who will continue to be students (hopefully not another fourth year at PCPM), whether it be on to Law School (Forensic Podiatry), Medical School (Podiatric Interns), or Dental School (for those of us who still keep in touch with Skrypeck and Felbeck) to treat the pronatory deformities of the temporomandibular joint. With National Boards Part II behind us, graduation upon us, we look at what lies before us: whether we end up in solo practice, partnership, or... prison, hopefully some day we can all look back fondly at our years here at PCPM. Yes, on some occasion in the future we'll sit down, crack a bottle, crack open this book, and crack a smile. Good Luck, Class of 1984... and thanks for the memories!