We’re at the end of the first year of medical school in our new school, the USC School of Medicine Greenville. Here is one of the things we love about our school, our home in the Health Sciences Education Building on the campus of Greenville Memorial Hospital. It’s so light and airy, the outside seeming so close you can touch it, that it’s easy to stay motivated even when you’re dragging after hours of studying.

Atrium of HSEB

Kyle Townsend

One of the cool things about medical school—despite the stereotype—is that we have each other’s backs. Sometimes that means helping someone understand some material, and sometimes it means staying late in anatomy lab to finish cleaning because your partners have to go. Other times, it means hoisting people up an eight-foot wall while covered in mud.

In the first week of Neuro module, one of my classmates called me over during a lecture break and asked, “Do you want to do a mud run?” This was puzzling to me. It is a well-known fact with my classmates that I don’t like running. I play keeper for our soccer team. I play tennis and volleyball. If I have to move any further than about ten yards, I am not interested. Last time I “ran” a 5k I didn’t move from my recliner for the rest of the weekend. Despite all of these things, I handed over my $20 and said, “Sweet, when is it?”

I had four weeks to train. I knew I wasn’t in shape for a mud run, so I worked out as much as I could (remember, we were in Neuro module; most spare time was spent studying). The training I did was not the right kind of training. I did a lot of bike riding, so that I could read and work out simultaneously. As it turns out, riding a bike is not running. One prepares you for a mud run, and the other lends you a false sense of security that comes crashing down around you as you run on and on chasing your gazelle-like teammates through 3.2 miles of mud and trees.

 There is one thing that can make a mud run even more miserable than its basal level of misery; that thing is weather. If it is too hot, it’s miserable. If it’s too cold, it’s miserable. One would think that a mud run scheduled for April 20 would be safe from a temperature problem. One would be wrong.

We arrived at Heritage Park in Simpsonville at 9 a.m., shivering in the 45-degree air. We ran around, warming up our muscles and stretching, waiting for our 9:34 start time. As that time approached, we moved to the start line, and I saw the pit of mud that was the first of 25 obstacles. I shivered harder. Our time came, and off we went. Our team arrived at the pit, and I decided to set the tone, jumping right in. One of the things about muddy water is that when you look at it, you have no idea how deep it is. It was deep and exceptionally frigid. I moved through the mud using a sort of army crawl/doggy paddle/swimming maneuver that I’m told was entertaining to watch, and hauled myself out the other side. My team and I then started jogging, overcoming obstacles as we came to them and suffering together. Or at least I was suffering. My teammates were all runners; during school we’ll be studying and any one of them might “go run a quick six miles to burn some energy.”

 Most of the race is a blur of pain for me. I trudged along, and my teammates took turns running with me to make sure I didn’t fall behind. It said a lot about how good of friends we’ve all come to be this year. They knew just what to say to keep me going, I cared about them enough to keep running, and at the end of the race we crossed the finish line together. Medical school has a stigma of being extremely competitive and cutthroat; and it can be. However it also helps form great friendships, and teaches lots of lessons about teamwork. Medicine isn’t a profession of independent operators anymore. We have to work together. We have to have each other’s backs. It was cool to see how that happens even outside the classroom, running through the cold and the mud.

Eric Fulmer

So, this is the week of our neuroscience exam. Personally, this is the one that I’ve been dreading, and I’m pretty sure that is a sentiment felt throughout my class.  As this is a four-week module, everything has been pretty crammed in (a.k.a. full time studying) but the week or two before the exam tends to be the most hectic.  I’ve found that one of the most important things to do during exam week is to not study. I know this is a point that seems counter intuitive, but over-studying can be a huge issue during exam week.  The human body/brain can only take so many consecutive hours of sitting in a study room learning material before starting to shut down, so destressing is really important.

This week, I did a poll of my classmates to see how everyone is taking time off to de-stress. Here are the results.

Exercising                                            20

Eating                                                  13

Getting Outside                                   10

De-stress?                                             6

Watching TV                                          5

Complaining about how stressed I am  4

Sleeping                                                2

Gaming                                                 1

Assuming everyone answered honestly, you can see that a large majority of my class enjoys exercising and getting outside (however, I suspect there may be some overlap in the top two responses). I was kind of expecting this result though, as I know many of my classmates hit the gym either before or after class or go jogging in the afternoons. While I’m not much for jogging, I do live in a nice neighborhood within walking distance of Cleveland Park so I head down to the park occasionally to people/dog watch. I will admit, however, I am the gamer. I like to take my mind off of school by playing multiplayer games online with friends from back home or undergrad.  It not only distracts me from school for a little while, but gives me a chance to keep up friendships.

So, all in all, I guess the results show that it’s not necessarily how you relax that is important, but that you find a chance to kick back and forget about school (if only for a little while). I think the majority of our class would definitely recommend getting outside and getting active as a great way to not only stay in great shape, but to keep the stress off as well.

Maglin Halsey

Today during class we found out about the explosions at the finish line of the Boston marathon. Wow. My heart sunk. I’ve spent today trying to figure out why this event hit me in a way different from any other traumatic event on the news.

It was only two years ago that I was crossing the finish line of my first marathon. When I crossed that line, I couldn’t talk. As soon as I tried, I found myself sucking in all the air I could muscle. The push to the finish line had taken my breath away. Today, runners and spectators also had their breath taken away as the explosions went off and chaos ensued. As I watched replays of the scene, I felt that same sense of gasping for breath that I had two years ago when I finished my marathon.

As I continued to watch news coverage, I found myself being specifically interested in the emergency medical services. Stretchers moving everywhere, bandages, splints, blood. It feels different to watch an ambulance and its sirens after becoming a certified EMT. I have found that since becoming certified and riding on the ambulances in Greenville, I am much more aware of the situations around me. Anytime I pass a car accident, I’m automatically thinking. What happened? How many people? Are there any life-threatening injuries? There are always ambulances sitting at the scene already as I pass, but this is how I am programmed to think now. Any time I see someone in the crowd at a football game looking faint in the heat, I’m starting to think about what I’m going to do if they get sick. What medical conditions do they already have? With that frame of mind, the events today struck up the same thoughts. How did they triage the patients at the scene? Who needed attention first? What were the life threatening injuries?

What would I do?

And every time I hear a siren now I’m thinking, how do I get out of the way for the ambulance? As the truck passes me with its sirens on, I quickly glance to see if one of my classmates is on the way to the call. When I hear a story on the news, I wonder if one of my classmates was at the scene.

Every emergency event becomes personal to me.

I finally realized that if anything like what happened in Boston happened in Greenville, my classmates and I would, all of a sudden, be available resources. We ride in the ambulances once a month to continue learning how to handle emergency situations, but what would we do in a situation like this? I have quickly come to realize how close to my heart any emergency situation hits. My thoughts and prayers are with all of those affected by the explosions and all of the emergency personnel who were there saving lives.

Matt Eisenstat

Imagine being given the opportunity to choose your clique in high school. Do you want to be a jock? All the attention and free sweat pants you can imagine. Is it worth the higher likelihood of being a washed out gym teacher who always talks about being “state champs” 40 years ago? Do you want to be a nerd? Can you put up with the social stigma and friends with questionable body odor for a shot at being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company? Imagine having that opportunity with only a week to decide your fate for the next four years. Oh, and if you get two weeks into the school year and suddenly get cold feet with your decision you have to repeat the 8^th grade to get another shot. That’s how I would liken the decision of picking a specialty in medical school.

Saying you’re a physician is as vague as saying “I’m in business”. Surgeons, pediatricians, internists, and every doctor in between begin in the same medical school boat. Their journeys quickly diverge after graduation. There are currently 26 specialties and over 120 subspecialties. Undersea and hyperbaric medicine is a subspecialty. I don’t even know what that means. I’m imagining two guys in old timey scuba suits and one of them has a stethoscope and doctor’s bag. I doubt one could use a stethoscope in a scuba suit but this is my imagination and there are no rules. That being said, as a student in the Upstate how am I supposed to know that I wouldn’t enjoy practicing medicine under the sea. There is an entire world of choices and only a limited time to discover what you’re passionate about.

Senior year of college I found myself standing in front of two attending physicians in the emergency department of a local hospital. A gray-haired male physician sat spinning idly in his office chair while the female physician behind him typed harshly on an antiquated keyboard. The grey-haired physician stopped the chair with his sneakers and looked up at me.

“Come on. Tell me what you think of Obamacare.”

“Bill, quit harassing the poor kid!” The woman physician rubbed her temples as she stared intently into the electronic medical records.

Before I could answer the double doors of the department burst open and three figures stood in the doorway. A tattooed man in an orange jumpsuit stood defiantly, shackled head to toe, between two annoyed looking police officers.

“Man I told you. I fell in the shower!”

The tattooed man seemed to be trying to explain a large laceration on his forehead. The laceration had the clean edges of a wound made by a razor blade, shiv, maybe even a knife. Unless the showers were lined in barbed wire, my inclination was that this man’s story was better than he was letting on.

From that moment I was hooked. The patients were interesting and their stories were more so. Every problem under the sun came through those double doors and an immediate impact could be made. I was lucky to find my passion so early and so definitively but for many it’s much more difficult.

Choosing a specialty in medical school is a rite of passage. It determines the patients you will see, the procedures you do, and the lifestyle you live. More often than not it also determines the peers you surround yourself with, the stereotype you cast yourself as, and the professional values you hold. For some people they have dreamed of being one type of doctor and one type of doctor only. Some people wait for year three and just cross off rotations they hate. Others may have their “Ah-Ha” moment at any random time and place. Even with all the research and shadowing in the world eventually you have to make a leap of faith.

I’m reminded of a white water rafting trip I took in high school. Halfway down the rapids, we pulled to the side to “enjoy” a jump off a small cliff into the rapids at a spot that was “safe.”

“Aim for that spot right there. There are rocks to the left and on the far side. If you hit that spot right there you should miss the rocks and a current will shoot you into a clear lane in the rapids. Oh and don’t miss the rope at the end or well have to come rescue you.”

As I jumped, I immediately thought, “Did he say rocks to the left or right…Guess I’m about to find out. Oh well this is fun.”

That’s the great thing about medicine. In such a high stress career with so many critical decisions along the way, you never can be one hundred percent certain that you’re jumping off in the right direction. You can be certain it’ll be an exciting jump.

Maglin Halsey

Today during class we found out about the explosions at the finish line of the Boston marathon. Wow. My heart sunk. I’ve spent today trying to figure out why this event hit me in a way different from any other traumatic event on the news.

It was only two years ago that I was crossing the finish line of my first marathon. When I crossed that line, I couldn’t talk. As soon as I tried, I found myself sucking in all the air I could muscle. The push to the finish line had taken my breath away. Today, runners and spectators also had their breath taken away as the explosions went off and chaos ensued. As I watched replays of the scene, I felt that same sense of gasping for breath that I had two years ago when I finished my marathon.

As I continued to watch news coverage, I found myself being specifically interested in the emergency medical services. Stretchers moving everywhere, bandages, splints, blood. It feels different to watch an ambulance and its sirens after becoming a certified EMT. I have found that since becoming certified and riding on the ambulances in Greenville, I am much more aware of the situations around me. Anytime I pass a car accident, I’m automatically thinking. What happened? How many people? Are there any life-threatening injuries? There are always ambulances sitting at the scene already as I pass, but this is how I am programmed to think now. Any time I see someone in the crowd at a football game looking faint in the heat, I’m starting to think about what I’m going to do if they get sick. What medical conditions do they already have? With that frame of mind, the events today struck up the same thoughts. How did they triage the patients at the scene? Who needed attention first? What were the life threatening injuries?

What would I do?

And every time I hear a siren now I’m thinking, how do I get out of the way for the ambulance? As the truck passes me with its sirens on, I quickly glance to see if one of my classmates is on the way to the call. When I hear a story on the news, I wonder if one of my classmates was at the scene.

Every emergency event becomes personal to me.

I finally realized that if anything like what happened in Boston happened in Greenville, my classmates and I would, all of a sudden, be available resources. We ride in the ambulances once a month to continue learning how to handle emergency situations, but what would we do in a situation like this? I have quickly come to realize how close to my heart any emergency situation hits. My thoughts and prayers are with all of those affected by the explosions and all of the emergency personnel who were there saving lives.

Jennifer Reinovsky

Busy lately. Went to dinner with a dear friend last night. She says I look like I’m doing wonderfully . Easter last Sunday. Able to lunch with family for hour and a half before returning to Neuroscience. Do I study all the time? Some days. Other days, I sit for hours reading lightly and making notes. Does that count as studying? Possibly not. But it’s work that has to be done before real study can begin sometimes…so possibly. Does everyone study that much? I don’t know. It’s difficult to tell. Does everyone do what it takes to master the material? Yes. If interested in staying and moving forward, people figure out what they need to do for themselves to understand and remember course content.

Last week: suturing workshop with Surgery Interest Group (see photos of fun).

Evening Surgery Interest Group (SIG) event: tons of fun for students and residents (instructing in knot tying and helping practice suturing pig’s feet). L-R: Madison Merritt, Alexis Cannon and Christina Shelley

Thanks to all of the SIG planners and coordinators who made this training/education possible! Thomas Cochran

Peacefully focusing on the task in front of them. These little piggies are in good hands !!” Shea Bielby and Shelly Caskey

Also last week: first public speaking occasion at small ceremony. Went well, good (free) catering afterwards . Why so many emoticons? I don’t know. Why so many word choices, but so few emoticons choices? I enjoy words, but find myself frustrated by fresh awareness concerning their constraint. Might as well stick to emoticons. Maybe one day, better words will roll around in my brain and fall out of my mouth. Recent reliance on actions to communicate intentions, ideas, values, and feelings has spoiled me. It may be some time before this word bounty. We will see.

Week before last: first Emergency Medicine Interest Group meeting. Helped planning this one. Very exciting, but no pictures. Too busy ensuring things ran smoothly. Still busy making sure things run smoothly as they can. Do I glorify busyness? That’s not my aim. I couldn’t sustain this amount and intensity of productivity were I not profoundly joyful going about this work. Constant smiling would be required to communicate this joy. Is that possible? Probably. Is that advisable? Uncertain. Face may get stuck that way. Really? Uncertain. Pathology is next year. Have to get back to you on that.

Too busy for reflection? No. Never. That’s my “thing.” Find a day when I haven’t thought about growth occurring this year in medical school. I trend towards reflection and pastoralism. Too busy to reflect and edit for public consumption online? Yes. I am internet shy. This is healthy. Daily, I learn more about physicians being admired and emulated as exemplars. Know that I strive to a set good example with my behavior and public interactions. Know that I am busy lately learning to balance health and happiness. I hope you appreciate and respect these attempts. I celebrate your moving forward, your learning, and your pursuit of your own sustainable happiness. Best wishes to all of us questing together .

Jensyn Cone

Sometimes, medical school seems insurmountable. Trying to master volumes of information, with tests constantly reminding me what I don’t know, I often feel incapable and insufficient. My daily phone conversations with my mom often riff on this theme: “Well, we got our grades back for _. I got a _. I mean, I guess that’s okay, but if I hadn’t [insert dumb mistake] I could have gotten a _.” But recently, during one of those phone conversations, my mom stopped me.

“Jensyn, I was cleaning out the basement and found something.” Slowly, distinctly, she read a list of my personal goals from 2008. They touched on the “impossible” challenges facing me then: finishing college well, surviving the MCAT, and getting into a med school while navigating the minefield of life strewn with financial difficulty and my mom’s cancer. At the end, she paused, “Jensyn, you did all those things.” Her sentence was simple, but her point profound. Through the support of a wonderful family and the strength of an Almighty God, I am here.  Yes, I am incapable and insufficient. But my family’s support is unending and my God’s strength is infinite. The hymn Amazing Grace rings true: “Through many dangers, toils and snares I have already come/Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far and grace will lead me home.”

Eric Fulmer

With med school and all I don’t really get much of a chance to get out (with the exception of the recent spring break, during which I spent almost a whole week outside).  When I do get some spare time, however, the Greenville area provides some awesome green spaces to go out and enjoy the sunshine and recreation.

Tablerock State Park

Falls Park

Reedy River, Downtown Greenville

Many of you know I was in the Marine Corps, what many of you may not know is where the Marine Corps started. The Marine Corps Birthday is 10 November 1775. Since that time and even in modern times, Marines gather to celebrate the birth of the Corps. So, where was the delivery room? It was in a Bar. The Tun Tavern in Philadelphia. Perhaps an auspicious start to what many consider, especially Marines, the best fighting force in history.

So, with the premise that good things can happen at drinking establishments and with a little exaggeration on my part, let me tell you what will be happening at a modern day Tun Tavern. This Friday evening we will be having a Nurse Anesthesia Graduation Party at Larkin’s Sawmill.

When it comes to Academics in Greenville, much has happened these last 100 years and in particular, the last couple of years. A lot of energy and excitement has been generated about the USC School of Medicine Greenville and our first class is on track to arrive this summer. But, there is this is small group that is making history now.

Here is what Richard Wilson, the Nurse Anesthesia Program Coordinator let me know: Prior to January 2010, we were an affiliated site for the USC Nurse Anesthesia Program. In January 2010, we became a primary training site for the USC Nurse Anesthesia Program as part of a workforce development project and to strengthen our collaboration with USC. The Nurse Anesthesia Program, on the GHS campus, is the first program where the students complete their entire training – classroom and clinical – at GHS.

This year 5 students graduated from the program and 3 of them will come work for GHS. Why I love this story is that we not only address clinical needs for our hospital, but we train nurses, therapists and physicians that help other hospitals in the state and the region.

The Marine Corps Motto is Semper Fidelis (Always Faithful), perhaps when I drop by this Friday I will toast the Graduates with Semper Primus (Always First).