SYNAPSESon humanistic reflection and its application keeps those who are unwilling (or unable) to exert theextracurricular philosophical or moral efforts of introspection tethered to the lower stages of moraldevelopment. CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 51
ALUMNI FEATURES52 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
SYNAPSES ALUMNIRETROSPECTIVES CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 53
ALUMNI FEATURES ABOUT THIS SECTIONFor the “Alumni Retrospectives” section, CMS alumni are invited to submit non-fiction works reflectingon the course of their careers. They share stories of their experiences in medical school and beyond, witha focus on the following questions: • How would you evaluate your experiences in life as a physician? • What lessons about humanity and the human condition emerge from your experiences in life as a physician? • What could medical students today learn from these lessons?54 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
SYNAPSES DAV I D FO R ST E D, M D ’ 70 CMS and Me:A 50-Year RetrospectiveSeptember 1966 — a point in time that will be in my memory for the rest of my life. I was a twenty-year-old recent college graduate who was in a city far from my home of Brooklyn, New York. I lived at homeduring college and, except for some summer months spent at camp, had never been away from it foran extended period of time. I don’t remember how I found my roommate Chuck, but we found a small,furnished apartment in a run-down building in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago. The ChicagoMedical School, which was located on South Wolcott Avenue, was a train ride away.Physically, the school building was not impressive — small, old and dark inside — but it didn’t matter tome. It was to be my home for the next four years and it soon felt like old slippers that you never want tothrow away, comfortable and reliable.I remember meeting my seventy-one classmates (seventy men and one woman) and being somewhatawed. Some were married and they appeared much older and more mature than I was. I was both scaredand nervous. I really didn’t know what to expect.Following some introductory remarks by Dean Leroy Levitt, we were introduced to our professors andthen the work started to get very serious. Gross Anatomy, Biochemistry and Physiology…all at the sametime! I was overwhelmed. I thought that I knew how to study but I really didn’t have a clue. After long days,there were long nights with little sleep.The school year was broken up into quarters. We had exams every week with grades posted in thedownstairs lobby. I can still feel the sense of anticipation and dread when I went to check the grade postednext to my identification number. I was not a very competitive student but there was much competition,which only increased my anxiety.The “Dark Quarter” was the nickname for the winter semester. It was dark when we went to school, darkwhen we left the school building and got home. I don’t remember seeing much sunlight for that entireperiod. When final exams were over and I returned to Brooklyn, I will never forget the look on my mother’sface as she said, “What happened to you?” I explained the physical and mental turmoil that I had gonethrough and the toll it had taken on my body and psyche.The spring quarter, as I remember, was much more pleasant. Sunshine had returned to Chicago and I wasbeginning to figure out how to be a successful medical student.Year two: Pathology, Microbiology and Pharmacology. All were fascinating and very enjoyable. There wasmore work and studying than the year before, but I was now in the groove and could see a method to themadness called “Basic Science.” My roommate Ron and I became close friends.The big gorilla on the block was Part I of the National Boards at the end of the year. I don’t think that I everstudied as hard for anything in my life. When I saw that I had passed, I was elated and called everyone Icould think of from the pay phone at school. That is another day that I will never forget. CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 55
ALUMNI FEATURES DAVID FO RSTE D, MD ’70 The big event in my third year was my marriage, in the fall, to my wife Lenore. In the fall of 2018, it will be 50 years! Rotations at Mt. Sinai Hospital, Cook County Hospital and Michael Reese Hospital introduced me to the world of clinical medicine. We wore short white coats and white pants in the hospital and I felt that I was well on the road to becoming a physician. During that year, on my pediatric rotation at Cook County Hospital, I met Dr. Rogelio Moncada. He was a radiologist with sub-specialty expertise in Pediatrics. When we reviewed radiographs with him, I was transported into a new world of shadows, grays, blacks and whites. I wondered how anyone could make sense of them, but Dr. Moncada did. The radiograph became the basis for a story about the patient, supplemented by symptoms, lab tests and physical examination. The diagnosis was on the films; they don’t lie. I was mesmerized and knew that that’s what I wanted to be….a diagnostic radiologist. The fourth year was a year of anticipation. Where would I go for my internship and which type would I take? Also, we had to take Part II of the National Boards which did not generate anywhere near the anxiety as its predecessor. Match Day came in the spring and I was matched with my first choice, rotating first at The Albany Medical Center in Albany, New York. Graduation day was exhilarating as my mother, in-laws, brother-in-law and sister joined us for a very festive weekend in Chicago. There was a bittersweet feeling to the end of four years at CMS. We had made many friends with similar experiences that bonded us. We were now MDs and there was high anticipation for the next chapter in our development into competent physicians. Internship year was a bit of a blur. I was on duty every third night for my medical rotations and every fourth night for surgery. ER rotation was 24 hours on and 24 hours off. Good thing I was young. Part III of the National Boards was almost a non-event; I passed with flying colors. Following a Radiology residency at The Hospital of The University of Pennsylvania, I served two years in the United States Air Force as a Major and the chief of Radiology at a Strategic Air Command base in far upstate New York. Following discharge, I returned to Penn to be on its hospital staff as Assistant Professor. After realizing that the academic life was not a perfect fit for me, I joined three of my colleagues from Penn who had left to form a new department at a suburban Philadelphia community hospital. I later became chief of the department and president of the medical staff. Subsequently, when our hospital merged with two others, I became the chief of the combined department and chief of staff of more than 1300 physicians. I was active in local, regional and national Radiology societies and in several communal organizations. After 35 years of practice, I decided to retire. I am extremely lucky to be able to enjoy a wonderful retirement. My mantra for success is “Do something for my mind, body and the community.” I remain physically active, serve on the boards of two Jewish student organizations, audit undergraduate classes at The University of Pennsylvania and serve as a docent at The National Museum of American Jewish History. When Dean James Record asked to meet me, earlier this year, I was thrilled to be able to sit down with him56 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
SYNAPSESDAV I D FO R ST E D, M D ’ 70and tell my story and hear about the amazing progress of CMS. The dean’s enthusiasm is contagious andI feel he is the type of leader who can take CMS to a higher level of national recognition which it certainlydeserves. CMS is a very different institution today than it was 50 years ago. From my discussions with thedean, I was assured that the same guiding principles of the South Wolcott campus are still followed on theNorth Chicago site; educating compassionate, well-trained and highly qualified medical students remainsthe hallmark of my medical alma mater.My story would not have been possible without CMS. They took a chance on me and gave me thefoundation that I needed to become a successful physician.My 50th reunion is in two short years. My hope is that my class will be able to come together again torenew our commitment to this most wonderful and influential institution. Thank you to all in the CMSfamily, both current and past, who made my life so meaningful and successful. I wish you nothing but thebest in the years to come. CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 57
ALUMNI FEATURES M E LV I N YO U N G , M D ’ 6 3 My Last Day After 43 years of practice, I’m still not ready! In spite of falling reimbursement, the Obamacare conundrum, malpractice headaches, hospital closings, unreasonable administrators, and a host of other unpleasantries, I still love being a physician. Not a “doctor” in the 21st-century definition, but one who listens, cares, treats, assists, guides, communicates, advises and, of course, heals when possible, and commiserates when necessary. I always answer my phone, take my own medical history and physical of my patients as well as enter my own notes into a medical record. No scribe, no PA. My patients are my friends, my family, and in some cases my alter ego. I have lived with their stories, shared in their gains and losses, oftentimes suffered their abuses, and sadly, I sometimes attended their funerals, wakes, or “shiva” calls. It is hard to put a dollar sign on what I do since I often am called upon to do the same for the indigent or uninsured, out of a sense of responsibility, caring, and pride in what I do and how I will be judged. This morning I arose knowing it would be my last day, and the last day of a corporation started all those decades ago. The practice will go on under hospital ownership. It will remain in the same location, 123 Grove Ave, Cedarhurst, NY, where it came to life in 1971. However, I will no longer be part of it. It will no longer be officially named The Long Island Cardiovascular Group (LICG), but bear the name of the hospital that acquired it. As I made rounds, I savored the privilege of logging on to the computer, examining my patients, exchanging ideas and thoughts with the residents and fellows, and of course, lots of hugs from people I have known for decades. Nurses, technicians, transporters, janitorial staff, and security officers. The ghosts of old friends; patients; departed colleagues; moments of glory, power, and influence; triumphs and the inevitable failures, all rushed by me as my morning rounds were completed. My last hospital note was on Mrs. O.D. with intractable arrhythmias only controlled with Betapace and Cardizem (neither of which existed when I started practice), administered via a nasogastric tube. I entered my note, made my goodbyes and exited the coronary care unit for the last time! Chapter 2 was in my office where I dutifully saw my patients, savoring each encounter, entered my notes and reassured one and all that my partner and the practice would still be here to serve them. One memorable visit was with a long-time patient, Zach, whom I had cared for over the last twenty years. At the end of our visit, we hugged and wished each other farewell. It was especially memorable because Zach was a burly 250-pound African American who was alive today because of the modern marvels of cardiology: statins, stents, thrombolytics, defibrillator, an IVC filter, and various antiarrhyhmics, none of which existed when I began practice... And then, they were gone. No more patients to see. My staff and I shared a pizza, salad and a bottle of red wine. I shared a drink with my partner and bid all good luck and a Happy New Year! I cleared out my remaining “stuff” and made ready to leave. However, there was one more doctorly act; it was, sadly, a condolence call to the widow of a long-time patient who I had learned passed away in a nursing home in Florida. I expressed my condolences, told her I was honored to have been her husband’s cardiologist, and then it was over! Long Island Cardiovascular Group will be no more, and I will move on to newer ventures and newer horizons and relationships. My feeling of ennui was offset by expectations of what lies ahead.58 ROSALIND FR ANKLIN UNIVERSITY
SYNAPSESM E LV I N YO U N G , M D ’ 6 3A door closes, a window opens!My children and grandchildren sent me lovely emails, and beautiful sentiments were expressed.....andencouraging words from my wife Roberta — my special Roberta who accompanied me to Chicago over 50years ago, where this incredible journey began at 710 South Wolcott Avenue. She was always supportive,always positive with her powerful words of spirituality and kindness. She keeps my light shining and she iswhy my light will continue to shine, even as the flame of my medical practice goes out.How fortunate I have been! How fortunate I am! Medicine has afforded me more than I could ever hopefor. Nothing can be more rewarding than helping people in need, with skills and knowledge that have nobounds.And a special prayer for former CMS dean Dr. John J. Sheinin, who had a dream and a vision. Without him,all of this might not have happened! CHICAGO MEDICAL SCHOOL 59
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