SYNAPSES KU HN H O NG , MD, FACULTY Mobile Clinic: Patient Care for a Remote Village Artist’s Statement: While I was working in a mission hospital in Ethiopia for five years, I joined a mobile clinic consisting of a group of volunteer physicians and nurses who visit rural areas on the weekends. The free clinic serves remote villages that do not have any immediate medical facility nearby. Since they do not have electricity, we could only treat them during daylight hours. We used clinical triage, a portable ultrasound, and basic lab tests for diagnosis. We distributed medicine for minor problems and referred patients needing more complex tests or surgery to our hospital. Our supplies may have been limited, but their appreciation and thanks were abundant. Oil on canvas, 48 by 60 inches, 2021. CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 51
SYNAPSES CANDICE KOSANKE, STAFF Great Blue Heron Artist’s Statement: A great blue heron stands in the waters of the Garden of Reflection at the Anderson Japanese Gardens in Rockford, IL. 52 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
SYNAPSES PATRYK LABEDZ, CMS ’25 Please Do Not Feed the Ducks Artist’s Statement: The world is a hectic place, but if we take a moment of calm we can appreciate all of its beauty, so don’t feed the ducks that disrupt the pond. This photo was taken at North Pond in Chicago’s Lincoln Park. CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 53
SYNAPSES LU C Y YAO, C M S ’ 2 3 Desert Mountains Artist’s Statement: Acrylic on canvas. 54 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
SYNAPSES S H I R LY S A M U E L , M D, R E S I D E N T Dying His tan hands on her pale skin Gently caressing her forehead She did not have much longer The cancer was back he said. His youth and her aging body But in that moment they were one Her eyes with gratitude His filled with compassion. He first found it in her lung It had been two years of treatment They did everything they could It was time well spent. His voice choked as he said goodbye She smiled, he had done his best Now it was time to let go She closed her eyes to rest. ■ CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 55
SYNAPSES AS H N A YA L A M A N C H I , C M S ’ 2 3 Kikuchi Disease Artist’s Statement: This piece represents a student’s battle with Kikuchi disease, a rare disease first discovered in Japan, presenting with lymphadenopathy, leukopenia and neutropenia. The piece demonstrates the anxiety (as seen by the pulse) surrounding this rare disease and the misdiagnoses of Kikuchi disease for a carcinoma or granulomatous disease. Overall, this piece is to educate the medical community about a rare disease. Mixed media. 56 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
SYNAPSES L E O K E L LY, M D, FAC U LT Y Dusk on the Door A poem of Door County Peace comes at dusk on the Door. Dying winds becalm waves lapping the shore. The sky darkens with a rosy glow As the night’s first stars begin to show. Songbirds’ voices fade away, Leaving a lone mourning dove to Herald the end of another day. There is contentment in my soul and on my face. I am transfigured by the peace of this time and place. As this serene ritual occurs each evening before me, I hope you all find a time and place where peace is Your reality. ■ CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 57
SYNAPSES WIL L IA M G RE E NFIE LD, MD, FACULTY Dr. Rubin One of my attendings at the Michael Reese Hospital (of blessed memory) was a general internist, Dr. Alfred Rubin. A small, elderly man, knowledgeable and approachable — whether he had been at Terezin, I don’t know, but he had the accent and the demeanor marking him as a middle European survivor of the Holocaust. His own near-death experience that he told me of had been before the dismemberment of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, toward the end of the Great War. He was a young interne at the Jewish hospital in Vienna. Most of the senior staff had been inducted into the army, leaving the remaining physicians and junior doctors-in-training to do double duty over long, interminable hours and days. There came an outbreak of a novel, virulent infection. (It may have been a variant of the ‘Spanish Flu’, but was not so labeled.) A patient would develop a harsh, racking cough, then run a very high fever and then become weak and usually die. Some few did not succumb at first, and after the crisis with the fever abating and the cough disappearing, felt strangely better rather quickly. And then many of them died too, of multiple organ system failure. This was toward the end of the era of great clinical bedside observation medicine in the German tradition. Thus so, the one remaining pathologist at the hospital began to come out of his basement laboratory to make antemortem rounds to correlate his findings with the clinical presentations. After several weeks of this scourge, with even more physical demands on the already overworked, exhausted in- house corps, the numbers of the afflicted dwindled down toward zero. Then young Dr. Rubin felt a tickle in his throat, going on to a stentorious cough, proceeding to shakes and chills and prostration. He was hospitalized on his own ward, to be administered to by his colleagues and to await his fate. However, one afternoon while he was recovering, sitting up and reading a newspaper and feeling much better, there came a presence to his room’s door: the pathologist. Lean and tall in his long white lab coat, sharp-eyed and looking, some would opine, rather cadaverous himself, Herr Doktor Professor saw the look of alarm on Alfred Rubin’s face. As he approached the bed, and as his hands reached out to feel under the armpits for swollen axillary lymph nodes and his eyes scanned his subject’s astonished, fear- filled eyes for the yellow of liver failure, he explained, “Oh no, Doctor Rubin, you are one of my best pupils. I just came by to say ‘hello’ and wish you a safe and speedy recovery!” ■ 58 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
SYNAPSES ME L ISSA CH E N, MD, FACULTY Des Plaines River Trail Artist’s Statement: Inspired by “Walk Slowly” by Dana Faulds: “It only takes a reminder to breathe a moment to be still, and just like that something in me settles, softens, makes space for imperfection. The harsh voice of judgment drops to a whisper and I remember again that life isn’t a relay race; that we will all cross the finish line; that waking up to life is what we were born for. As many times as I forget, catch myself charging forward without even knowing where I’m going, that many times I can make the choice to stop, to breathe, and be, and walk slowly into the mystery.” Des Plaines River Trail, Illinois. CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 59
SYNAPSES KU HN H O NG , MD, FACULTY Getting Water for Survival Artist’s Statement: We need water for drinking, cooking, washing and all other purposes. It is not always immediately available in every country. While I worked in Ethiopia, I witnessed that many people in rural areas do not have sources of clean water. They walk several miles to get water, if available. They use plastic containers to hold the water and use donkeys to carry them home. An ordinary household does not have running water nor electricity. They use every drop of water carefully and share with their animals as well. Oil on canvas, 30 by 40 inches, 2021. 60 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
SYNAPSES GRANT CHRISTENSEN, CMS ’23 Havasu Creek Artist’s Statement: The last stretch of Havasu Creek. This is located in Arizona associated with the Havasupai people. It runs into the Colorado River which enters the Grand Canyon. CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 61
SYNAPSES MIRE K DUNDR, Ph D, FACULTY Hope Artist’s Statement: No matter how difficult life becomes in these times, there is always hope. 62 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
Search
