In the Beginning

Old Friends

Tos












Judy








Dave


















Sandy


















Mary Fish &
Joyce Geiman
Mike Hinman



Can you imagine us years from today,
sharing a park bench quietly.
How terribly strange
to be seventy.

Old friends -
memory brushes the same years,
silently sharing the same fears.

Time it was and what a time it was.
It was
a time of innocence,
a time of confidences.

Long ago it must be,
I have a photograph.
Preserve your memories,
they’re all that’s left you.

-Paul Simon
Old Friends

Lives of a Cell

Maria Ramirez












Mike Pesci



























Tom Lahut





“Statistically, the probability of any one of us being here is so small that you'd think the mere fact of existing would keep us all in a contented dazzlement of surprise. We are alive against the stupendous odds of genetics, infinitely outnumbered by all the alternates who might, except for luck, be in our places...

“We violate probability, by our nature.

"To be able to do this systemically, and in such wild varieties of form, from viruses to whales, is extremely unlikely; to have sustained the effort successfully for the several billion years of our existence, without drifting back into randomness was nearly a mathematical impossibility.

“Add to this the biological improbability that makes each member of our own species unique. Everyone is one in 3 billion at the moment, which describes the odds. Each of us is self-contained, free standing, individual, labeled by certain protein configurations at the surface of our cells, identifiable, with certainty by the whorls in our finger tipped skin, maybe even by a medley of fragrances.

"You would think we’d never stop dancing.”

-Lewis Thomas, M.D.
The Lives of a Cell: Notes of a Biology Watcher

Logical

Dayna Glatzer, Karyn Stolzenberg, Matt Abar













Sparky &
Jim Lombardo














Cynthia


















The Logical Song

When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful,
A miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.
And all the birds in the trees, well they’d be singing so happily,
Joyfully, playfully watching me.

But then they sent me away to teach me how to be sensible,
Logical, responsible, practical.
And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable,
Clinical, intellectual, cynical.

There are times when all the world’s asleep,
The questions run too deep
For such a simple man.
Won’t you please, please tell me what we’ve learned
I know it sounds absurd
Please tell me who I am.

Now watch what you say or they’ll be calling you a radical,
Liberal, fanatical, criminal.
Won’t you sign up your name, we’d like to feel you’re
Acceptable, respectable, presentable, a vegetable!

At night, when all the world’s asleep,
The questions run so deep
For such a simple man.
Won’t you please, please tell me what we’ve learned
I know it sounds absurd
But please tell me who I am,
who I am.

The Logical Song
-Rick Davies / Roger Hodgson
Supertramp

Faculty & Help

Luisa Ahlers




















Dr. T




















'Sparky' Spanbauer










Bill Muller
























Harold Singer














Norma Diehl















Wayne Cure














Karen Sparkes


















"Abbreviations are a code, a secret and
impenetrable language, the cabalistic symbols of
medical society. Letter abbreviations are particularly
favored in cardiology, with its endless usage of
LVH, RVF, AS, MR to describe heart conditions,
but other specialities have their own . . .
In pediatrics is perhaps the most unusual
abbreviation of all, FLK, which means
‘Funny-looking kid’.”
-Michael Crichton
A Case of Need

Cold Environment

“We’ll see you again," Billy said.
"No doubt about it," Francis said.
"You hanging around Albany or moving on?" Billy asked.
"Couldn’t say for sure," said Francis. "Lotta things that need figurin’ out."
"Always is," said Billy, and
They shook hands and said no more words to each other . . .”

-William J. Kennedy
Ironweed

Clinical Studies

Celebrations at Ends of Rotations

Dayna















Muriel Rose & Kathy Riley















Jan


















Pig Roast took a couple of days . . .






.

Swampmen

Matt Abar









Tim Foley
Mick Resio











Muriel Rose
















Mike Pesci
Mark Tosiello & Judy Tucker


Tent Number Six, the home of Forrest, Pierce and McIntyre, became a center of social activity. It also became known as The Swamp, partly because it looked like a kind of haunt one might come across in a bog and partly because Hawkeye Pierce, while in college and unable to afford a dormitory room, had lived just off the campus in a shanty that his classmates had called The Swamp. The words, in big capital letters
-THE SWAMP-
were painted in red on the door of Number Six.

Cocktail hour at The Swamp began at 4:00 PM, the hour at which the night shift normally awakened and had a few hours before supper and the hour at which the day shift, if underemployed, could begin to relax. Cocktails consisted of better booze than most of the crew had ever had at home, and martinis were a favorite, served in water glasses filled to the brim.

A frequent visitor to The Swamp was the Catholic chaplain of the area, Father John Patrick Mulcahy, a native of San Diego and former Maryknoll missionary. He was lean, hungry-looking hook-nosed, red-haired and, in the eyes of the Swampmen, one of a kind. . . . it was the Duke who hung the name of Dago Red on the Father, and the Father accepted it with good humor.

Prior to being in the Army, Dago Red had spent five years in China and seven years on the top of a mountain in Bolivia. His contacts had been limited. With Duke and Hawkeye and Trapper John he found stimulation in conversation that included politics, surgery, sin, baseball, literature and religion. Dago Red combined the dignity of his profession with the wisdom, understanding and compassion of an honest missionary with the ability to tolerate the Swampmen. He became one of them.

At two o’clock on morning, Hawkeye and Trapper John were fighting what seemed to be a losing battle in the OR with a kid who had been shot through both chest and belly. Despite control of hemorrhage and administration of blood, the patient, whose peritoneum had been contaminated for ten hours by spillage from his lacerated colon, went deeper and deeper into shock.

“Maybe we’d better get Dago Red,” said Hawkeye.
“Call Dago,” ordered Trapper John.
A corpsman when for him. Within minutes he appeared.
“What can I do for you fellows?” asked the Father.
“Put in a fix,” said Hawkeye, “this kid looks like a loser.”

Father Mulcahy administered the last rites. Shortly thereafter, the patient’s blood pressure rose from nowhere to 100, his pulse slowed to 90, and he went on to recover.

From then on Dago Red put in many a fix. With the Swampmen it was mostly a gag, but one they could not quite bring themselves to forgo when things were rough. As far as Red was concerned, of course, it was no joke. He spent many sleepless nights applying fixes and feeding beer, whisky, coffee or consolation to distraught surgeons whose patients had not responded to the fix, or who were waiting for the fix to take.

-Richard Hooker
M*A*S*H*

.

M*A*S*H

Through early morning fog I see
Visions of the things to be,
The pains that are withheld for me,
I realize and I can see - that…

Suicide is painless,
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it
if I please.

Try to find a way to make
All our little joys relate
Without that ever-present hate
But now I know that it's too late

And suicide is painless,
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it
if I please.

The game of life is hard to play,
I’m going to lose it anyway,
The losin’ card I’ll someday lay;
So this is all I have to say:

That suicide is painless,
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it
if I please.

The only way to win is cheat
And lay it down before I’m beat
And to another give my seat
For that’s the only painless feat.

‘cause suicide is painless,
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.
And you can do the same thing if you please.

The sword of time will pierce our skin
It doesn't hurt when it begins
But as it works its way on in
The pain grows stronger, watch it grin,

For suicide is painless,
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.
And you can do the same thing if you please.

A brave man once requested me
To answer questions that are key
Is it to be or not to be
And I replied, oh, why ask me

'Cause suicide is painless,
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.
And you can do the same thing if you please.

And you can do the same thing
If you please

-Johnny Mandel and Mike Altman
Suicide Is Painless
(the M*A*S*H theme)













.

Recollections

Man’s youth is a wonderful thing;
It is so full of anguish and of magic
and he never comes to know it as it is
until it has gone from him forever.

-Thomas Wolfe
Man’s Youth








.