White Coat Reflections - Class of 2021

Between these pages are a collection of reflections on the first ten weeks of medical
school contributed by first year medical students in the Class of 2021 and a few of
their professors at the University of Maryland School of Medicine.

This booklet represents our continued effort to create an inclusive outlet of
expression tying together the intimate experiences of our students, faculty, and

families. Everyone in the Class of 2021 was invited to submit a piece.
We hope you enjoy them.

Congratulations on this milestone!

The Creative HeArts team
University of Maryland School of Medicine

Michael Sikorski, MS2 Zahur Fatima Sallman, MS2
Chelsea Alvarado, MS2 Kathryn Champ, MS1
Abby Goron, MS2
Danielle Day, MS2 Emily Min, MS2
Molly Himmelrich, MS1 Rutvij Pandya, MS2
Christine Server, MS1
Saachi Nangia, MS1 Ankur Vaidya, MS2
Meghna Ramaswamy, MS1 Gideon Wolf, MS2

Shterna Sofer, MS2
Lucy Wang, MS1

Thank you Dr. Neda Frayha and Dr. Sandra Quezada for your endless inspiration and support
and Katy Eslami and Mark Brodsky for your hours spent helping put together this booklet.

Table of Contents

Skipped Stone, Dr. David Pumplin, Faculty......................................................................................................................................... 1
Dissecting Loss, Lauren Pace, MS1 ....................................................................................................................................................... 2
Birthday Present, Kathryn Champ, MS1 ............................................................................................................................................... 3
Reading Palms, Christine Server, MS1.................................................................................................................................................. 4
A New Perspective, Anonymous, MS1 ................................................................................................................................................. 4
Haiku, Anonymous, MS1 ........................................................................................................................................................................ 5
Toe Nail Polish, Dr. David Gens, Faculty ............................................................................................................................................. 6
More than Med Students, Rebecca Fenderson, MS1 ............................................................................................................................ 7
A Supporting Role, Ari Goldstein, MS1 ............................................................................................................................................... 8
Running, Lucy Wang, MS1................................................................................................................................................................... 10
The Lost Child, Kanami Mori, MS1..................................................................................................................................................... 11
That’s Why., Esana, MS1...................................................................................................................................................................... 12
The whole of the parts; the sum of my notes., Molly Himmelrich, MS1 ....................................................................................... 13
Dichotomy, Kieran Tebban, MS1.......................................................................................................................................................... 14
Enjoy Being Here, Anonymous, MS1.................................................................................................................................................. 16
Just Can’t Give Up Now, Da’Kuawn Johnson, MS1 .......................................................................................................................... 17
DaVinci, Dr. Brett B. Clark, Faculty ..................................................................................................................................................... 18
Scalpel to Skin, Meghna Ramaswamy, MS1 ....................................................................................................................................... 18
Atlético MS1s, Stephan Olaya, MS1 .................................................................................................................................................... 19
“Nice.”, Anonymous, MS1 .................................................................................................................................................................... 20
“Never Before …” – Franklin D. Roosevelt, Carly Rosen, MS1 ..................................................................................................... 21
The Checklist, Dr. Adam Puche, Faculty............................................................................................................................................. 22
Rainbow Cloud, Anonymous, MS1 ..................................................................................................................................................... 24
Terrifying Beauty, Anonymous, MS1 ................................................................................................................................................. 26
The Bends: A Deep Dive into the Depths of Our Own Ignorance, Jonathan Siglin, MS1 ........................................................ 28
Scalpel, Ike Ibrahim, MS1...................................................................................................................................................................... 30
Untitled, Dr. Diana LaPasha, Faculty ................................................................................................................................................... 31
Ten Weeks, Matthew Tinkham, MS1 ...................................................................................................................... Inside Back Cover

Skipped Stone

David Pumplin, Faculty

Skipped stone, Bay of Fundy, Canada, 1987
I throw small stones of information – to land where?
Fledglings put on white coats, become doctors,
ripple outward, affect other lives,
save many, create new ripples.
Who will sense those ripples? I will not know
but perhaps one stone will make a difference.
1

Dissecting Loss

Lauren Pace, MS1
Next week I will receive earn my white coat. Your absence will be felt acutely.
Not being able to recount to you the experiences of these past few weeks has left a void that I can’t
figure out how to fill. The small victories of my day to day, the ones you would have celebrated so
vigorously, have passed me by without significance. But I will do my best to share some highlights.
On that first day, I was so eager. I know, that comes as no surprise. While everyone else hesitated, I
was all too ready to make that first cut. As scalpel met skin I ushered in my new beginning. I could
have used your guidance those first few weeks – you would have reminded me of the importance
of reverence, of respect, and of savoring the experiential learning that I was lucky enough to
undertake.
In the second week, we dissected our patient’s airway. Yes – that was the day she became my patient,
no longer just “the cadaver.” Knowing that I held in my hands the system that failed you in your
final hours somehow brought the realization that she was to someone else as you were to me. That
she was loved. Of course, I had known this on some level, but that day there was a palpable thread
of common humanity.
Last week I dissected the muscles of her hand. I was reminded of that joke you used to tell – you
know the one. Every time I’ve tried to retell it, it’s been clear that I lack your mastery of timing. You
were always going out of your way to make others smile. I can only hope, as I move forward through
this crazy journey, that I can share in that endeavor – for my classmates, for my colleagues and for
my patients. If I can be half as good a doctor as you were a person, I will be among the best.
Next week I will earn my white coat. In the four years ahead, I will strive every day to earn it over
and over again. Through it all, your absence will be felt acutely.

2

Birthday Present

Kathryn Champ, MS1

The day I turned 23, I was gifted a cadaver. I sat on the anatomy lab floor with my eyes closed, trying
to keep myself from losing consciousness while my colleagues eagerly made their first cuts. I felt
like I didn't belong. On my way to dinner that night, I shared my disappointment in myself with my
friends. I was surprised to learn that I was not alone in feeling emotional that first day of lab. I feel
so lucky to be surrounded by such a thoughtful and supportive group of people. My 23rd birthday
was one to remember to say the least.

3

Reading Palms

Christine Server, MS1

Could your fingers keep tempo with a brisk snap
restack a deck and shuffle it with ease.
Could they flick a lighter to set birthday candles aglow
sparklers cascading away into gloaming summer nights.
Did your hands grip the chains of flaking swing sets to
shouts of higher higher, buckle in swimming vests
safety seats, bicycle helmets
a combat helmet.
Were your hands sandpapered from clutching sawed-off steel scraps or
rounded soft from lobbing golf balls.
Were they the ones steering you home after the consultations, the
unexpected overnights.
What did you do with your hands while waiting?
Did they move searching from the bristle of your unshaven face to your thickened cuticles arcing in
small half-moons on your fingers, then
pick up the phone, cradle the receiving end the dial tone ringing empty?
Or stay stoic, still, one atop the other.

A New Perspective

Anonymous, MS1

That first day in the anatomy lab involved a lot. There was emotion of course, but honestly I did not
fully recognize the impact the lab would make on me until that first cut. I remember standing in
those clean, fresh scrubs over the uncut body and thinking about how I don’t believe anything I
have done before has prepared me for this. For years we did research on different molecules, learned
about cells, and studied various biochemical pathways. Our aim was to learn the foundation of
medicine. We were supposed to learn about the science that brings rise to the miracles of the human
body. But, standing in front of that body, I felt like I knew absolutely nothing. And after making
that cut, I realized I knew even less. Being able to see those muscles, bones, and organs for the first
time was completely different than in a book. It was an entirely new way of understanding why I
wanted to do medicine. Whether it was realizing the true size of the liver or being able to hold a
human heart, the experience was an academic experience like no other. And then one remembers
that these organs, bones, and joints belonged to a person. It belonged to a patient. And all that
together gave me an entirely new perspective.

4

Haiku

Anonymous, MS1

I’m holding your heart
Your source of life, hope, and love

K, what’s the next cut.

5

Toe Nail Polish

David Gens, Faculty
We teach medical students to be “observant” as they meet and then examine patients: look for
jaundiced eyes, the protuberant abdomen, the gait, the motor skills. Feel the skin: is it warm or
cold, clammy and dry.
I have been doing this for 45 years.
But now I observe more. And sometimes it “gets” me.
I can’t remember the exact table number, but the quadrant was number 1 (I believe). The students
asked about something in the right leg; perhaps “where is the anterior tibial artery and where does
it leave the popliteal?”.
Here is what I observed out of the corner of my right eye:

Beautiful bright red, scarlet red toe nail polish
Put on with intention. Perhaps, with the intention of looking beautiful for her next visitor in
the hospital (I imagined). What were her thoughts as she put it on? “Will he come to visit?”
or “the grandchildren are coming today”.
Did she know it was her last day?
That got me.
After all these years.

6

More Than Med Students

Rebecca Fenderson, MS1
These photographs are my attempt at capturing a few things - the beauty and diversity of our
class, our initiation into the medical profession with our white coats, and most importantly the
things that we love outside of medicine that will ultimately help us become more humanistic-
driven people and physicians. As we have already begun to experience, this career requires us
to sacrifice a lot. We will give, and give, and give unselfishly and willingly; it is what we have
dedicated ourselves to and what a lot of us have dreamed of since we were children. We will
give a lot during our lifetime as doctors - but we should all have some aspects of ourselves
that no one can take.
Here are some of them.

7

A Supporting Role

Ari Goldstein, MS1

Everyone is the protagonist of their own story. This idea, albeit cliched, is something that I
try to hold close as a medical student. It’s hard to keep this in mind as individuals entering this field.
Striving tirelessly towards a single goal, we typically place ourselves as the main character in our
stories; we are the ones who will reach long-sought milestones as we work toward the betterment
of society. We work endless hours pursuing our craft so that we may attain that for which we have
striven. However, we cannot always occupy the protagonist role.

Occasionally, I find myself placing too much weight on my own path and becoming a little
too inflated with self-importance. To reestablish a balance, I remind myself of how each individual
whom I encounter has a narrative as rich and meaningful as mine. Even though we are each the
central characters in our own conceptions, every patient we will see (and, truly, everyone else as
well) is their own protagonist casting us in a supporting role in the grand production that is their
life. Their tales ought to be recognized for containing more depth and emotional weight than could
ever be captured in a movie or book. As we approach each person, it must be with the presence of
mind that they have made a profound gesture to allow us to become a character in their story. This
casting should not be taken lightly. Everyone we see trusts us to be the ones to help forge their path
ahead through whatever valley they are currently trudging through, so they can reach their next
peak. Although I too frequently see myself as the chief protagonist, I revel in the opportunity to be
a small but valued part of someone’s supporting cast. This role has the capacity to bring
transcendent meaning to anyone who is graced with it.

This decentralization of our personal role is part of what it means to be a truly effective,
patient-centered physician. Oddly, perhaps the most apt models for this difficult task are not alive
to enlighten us on its meaning. As we conclude our time in the anatomy lab, we should meditate on
the decision made by each person who elected to donate their body to become a cadaver. Every one
of them decided that our stories were important enough and filled with enough promise to warrant
donating their body to become a supporting character along our journey. Although we may not be
interacting with our cadavers directly anymore, they will forever be players in our stories and every
time we push our plot forward, it will be, at least somewhat, thanks to their generosity. As such, we
should heed their lesson and apply the same selflessness and genuine care towards our relationships
with our future patients to support them in moving ceaselessly forward in their illustrious stories.

8

Neha Amin – spin instructor Brent Hurt – hockey player

Andrew Pak & Johanna Thompson-Westra – clarinetists

9

Running

Lucy Wang, MS1

7 minutes. 12 minutes.
Length of my “Snooze” button Until the shuttle comes
Still dark out Pack up my things
But now there’s only… Run down the steps
Waiting…
3 minutes.
Until the shuttle comes 12 hours later.
One last gulp of breakfast Finally
Sling on backpack, slide into shoes I’m home
Lock the door… It’s my time
Except I should finish those flashcards…
2 minutes.
Forgot my ID 3 hours.
Dash back in Until “bedtime”
“MEDICAL STUDENT”... Settle down at my desk
Looking for that second wind…
4 minutes.
Before lecture starts ‘What’re you doing this weekend?”
Run up the steps “Sorry I’m unavailable”
Print one sided “The entire weekend?”
Yet again... “Yeah…”

3 minutes over. 24 hours later.
Dash to the “pods” All is quiet
Yellow band across the door Turn my lock
“CLOSED FOR CLEANING” Change into scrubs
The other bathroom In eerie silence…
Line out the door...
“Running a few minutes late!”
14 minutes over.
Spray down Mr. Jones 3 hours.
Clip hemostats In the lab
Strip gloves off On Friday night...
Lather soap up my arms
What a long lab... But all my friends are here.

1:33 minutes. Outkast reverbs through the halls
Until leftover lentils As we make our triumphant exit
(Third day in a row) Together...
Stomach growling
Considering everything “to-do”... “Hey look! There’s free pizza in the lounge!!!”

“Do you have time to hang out today?” 22 minutes.
“Sorry, I’m in a study groove right now...” Until the next shuttle…

5 hours. “Let me know if it doesn’t come!”
In the library “Text me when you get home safe!”
Just fly by “See you tomorrow at 8!”
Where did the time go… Somehow, it’s not so bad......

10

The Lost Child

Kanami Mori, MS1

We were v dysfunctional and laughed way too much but we made it! Shout out to olecranon
bumps, spray boy, suction boy, cat forums, antihelices (or lack thereof), paper towels, scalpels,
big heads, dog pics, one person always reading the lab and one person always knowing what
was actually going on in lecture. And a very big thank you to our awesomely fit donor for
letting us learn from him :)

11

That’s Why.

Esana, MS1
I am so tired. And not just tired. I'm angry. I don't understand. Who planned it this way? Who made
it this way? Why am I learning an entire semester's worth of material in a week, a day? Who looked
at the human brain and thought that this was something that was really possible to accomplish,
something that should be accomplished? Who is trying to break my soul?

And what is the point? Tell me, what is the point of this whole endeavor? Who cares if I know what
muscle in the medial compartment of the thigh also extends the thigh as well as AD-adducting it?
Does it honestly, really matter in even the slightest sense of the word if I look at this histology again?
It's a bunch of stupid slides of cells that could not look more similar if they were secretly
collaborating to make sure I bombed the dry practical.

I am tired. And I'm angry. And I'm sad. I'm away from my home and my family and the people that
I love, and I never have time to talk to them or spend with them, and everyone around me is
preoccupied with the same things that I am, and there's no relief no matter which way I turn. It's
stress all the way around, every bleeding second of every moment wondering if I can force myself
to swallow just one more fact, so tell me, seriously, seriously, seriously, why?!

There is a woman lying on a bed smaller than a twin, and there are cords dangling from her body,
draped over the bars that line the edge of the bed to keep her from falling over. She is unconscious,
and there is a mask over her face, a tube down her throat. A machine beeps quietly next to her, its
cold screen keeping track as it forces her lungs to expand even as her body is trying to give up.

There is a woman next to her, and her hand is on one of the railings on the side of the bed. She is
gripping it tightly, and she might be shaking a little. Her mouth is gritted shut tight, one corner
tilted up in a grimace as she tries to force herself to stay calm. With a trembling hand, she brushes a
strand of hair off the unconscious woman's face and gives her a kiss on the forehead. She blinks
hard, fast, but she can't stop the tears, and oh, oh right -

That's why.

12

The whole of the parts; the sum of my notes.

Molly Himmelrich, MS1

13

Dichotomy

Kieran Tebben, MS1

Medical school is destructive.
We create pieces from what was once a functional human body and we can’t put these pieces back
together.
We’ve removed skin, intimately exposing that human body to our rapidly learning eyes.
We’ve held that person’s once beating heart in our hands.
We’ve held lungs that once breathed and spoke and laughed and digestive organs that provided
the nutrients to survive.
We’ve held reproductive organs that once created new lives that might one day be in this same
position.
We’ve taken that person’s eyes that once sensed their surroundings and their face that shared how
they felt about these surroundings.
We’ve exposed nerves that sensed the world this person once existed in.

Destruction happens within us as well.
We all lost a little of ourselves when we made the decision to take this journey.
I had hobbies and time to pursue them.
I did not feel guilty when I took a much needed day off.
I did not regret the days I went to sleep early to catch up on the constantly disappearing hours of
rest.
I spent time with friends away from learning.
I had never separated the parts of a human body.

And sometimes I wonder why I chose this destructive journey.
But I’m glad I did.

Because medicine is constructive.
Talking to that first patient reminds you that the end of this tunnel is far in the distance, but it is
worth it.
We meet patients where they are and build a plan around them to make their lives better.
And they trust us. Because we are constructing something foundational to their functioning as the
a human body that we are beginning to understand.
And we construct that trust as we practice and refine our interactions, as we provide more care.
And we connect with them because they are more than human bodies.
The patients we see are people, much like those we sometimes remember to be, who need us.
And they want us to help them and connect with them and build something they cannot build
through any other relationship in their lives.
And the possibility of touching even one life by constructing these connections is why we chose
this journey.

14

Gina Savella – competitive Latin ballroom dancer Alexa Ciesinski – dancer

Carly Rosen – animal shelter volunteer Nickole Kanyuch – figure skater

15

Enjoy Being Here

Anonymous, MS1
“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now
have was once among the things you only hoped for.” (Epicurus, 341-270 BC)
I often found myself having to think about this quote throughout the last 10 weeks of Gross
Anatomy to keep my emotions at bay or regain some sense of perspective. I would wonder what I
was doing here in Baltimore, often feeling lost, inadequate, and unsure about my future almost
daily. I was angry at myself on the days when I despised going into lab, thinking back on the days
before I started medical school where I was so excited to have the opportunity to learn from a donor
cadaver. We all grinded to get here, to get that MCAT score, land that interview, get an acceptance
to a phenomenal school. But, unfortunately the intense and creative human imagination constantly
leaves us with a thought of “what’s next?” We all hoped and fought to merely have this honorable
opportunity to become a physician and some days we need to simply enjoy being here, even if that
means taking some time for yourself regardless of what others are doing. I’m sure there will be a
time somewhere down the road where every single one of us wishes to be back in Gross Anatomy
lab. I’m incredibly grateful for the new friends and support system I’ve made at UMSOM thus far,
especially those that helped me to keep my head up on the rough days.
- Anonymous.

16

Just Can’t Give Up Now

Da'Kuawn Johnson, MS1

Coming into medical school, I knew it would be tough. Starting with a course that is both mentally
and emotionally taxing often made me question if I was cut out for medical school. Being a musician,
I found myself thinking about the lyrics to a song I heard a lot as a child when I would go to church.
It served as a source of comfort because it acknowledged the fact that I knew the path to being a
physician was difficult and I came too far to give up. I played a slow almost classical rendition of
the song because as I went through anatomy, this was the rendition that mentally provided me the
most comfort and reassurance. Here are a few of the lyrics:

I just can’t give up now
I’ve come too far from where I started from
Nobody told me, that the road would be easy
And I don’t believe he brought me this far to leave me

Scan this QR code or visit the link
below to listen to Da’Kuawn play!
https://youtu.be/_iVax6cupmM

17

DaVinci

Dr. Brett B. Clark, Faculty

Scalpel to Skin

Meghna Ramaswamy, MS1
My grandmother chose to donate her skin after she died. She was a woman who gave up her home
and moved to a different city after marriage. She was made to give up her education as the daughter
in the family and then learned two languages after she had children. She gave her time to
volunteering after her children were married and moved out. She accepted situations with a steely
resolve to adapt, and never gave up her adventurous spirit. And after she died, she gave her skin
away.
On the first day of medical school, we made our first cut – scalpel to skin. And I thought of my
grandmother in the hospital, held together by bandages. I thought of her giving her time, and finally
pieces of herself to someone she would never know. The donors in anatomy lab did this too. They
gave themselves over to us, people they would never know, trusting us to learn. So we do. We take
their gift, even on days when we are not sure we can do it justice. We respect the gift, and we take
the learning we can get from it.
I do not know what the donor’s life was like. I do not know if she had children, or if she liked the
color of the nail-polish painted on her fingers and toes. I do not know if she spoke different
languages or if she loved hugs. I do not know if she liked cooking. But she let us take scalpel to skin,
just like my grandmother did. And so I learn what I can; as much as I can.

18

Atlético MS1s

Stephan Olaya, MS1

A little “fútbol” to bring us closer together and away from our studies.
Cheers to a fun and successful first intramural season, Atlético MS1s!

19

“Nice.”

Anonymous, MS1

“Nice”

Call me kind
Call me honest
Call me courageous or fair or smart
But do not call me nice

N-I-C-E is a four-lettered word that describes literally nothing about a person
Except they can pass out faux compliments through gritted teeth
It is a word reserved for those who smile meekly in the face of injustice
For those who bewilderedly ask “but what could I do?”

So do not call me nice

Call me a badass or witty or beautiful

Let me take on the world with my voice
Empower me to run into the storm
And shout to the thunder, “I can do this!”
Teach me my destiny is my choice
And that I am an autonomous being emboldened by my own divine rights

Do not ask me to sit quietly, a porcelain face

Call me “angry” and let my anger fuel comparative training on male and female health

Call me “a gunner” and let me treat the sick to the best of my abilities

Call me “bold” and let me embolden each patient I meet

Realize your words have value. They have meaning, and they have an impact
So do not call me nice

20

“Never Before Have We Had So Little Time In Which To Do So Much" -
Franklin D. Roosevelt

Carly Rosen, MS1
UMSOM: Learn the entire body anatomy in 10 weeks.

Carly: makes over 3000 flashcards
UMSOM: Do not forget about embryology, histology and radiology

Carly: learns to study flashcards while walking

Photo by Matthew Chu
21

The Checklist

Adam Puche, Faculty

“Nice”

Call me kind
Call me honest
Call me courageous or fair or smart
But do not call me nice

N-I-C-E is a four-lettered word that describes literally nothing about a person
Except they can pass out faux compliments through gritted teeth
It is a word reserved for those who smile meekly in the face of injustice
For those who bewilderly ask “but what could I do?”

So do not call me nice

Call me a badass or witty or beautiful

Let me take on the world with my voice
Empower me to run into the storm
And should to the thunder, “I can do this!”
Teach me my destiny is my choice
And that I am an autonomous being emboldened by my own divine rights

Do not ask me to sit quietly, a porcelain face

Call me “angry” and let my anger fuel comparative training on male and female health

Call me “a gunner” and let me treat the sick to the best of my abilities

Call me “bold” and let me embolden each patient I meet

Realize your words have value. They have meaning, and they have an impact
So do not call me nice

22

Erin Zisman – volleyball player

Serge Tzeuton, Jalal Baten, Jack Peng, Maniraj
Jeyaraju, Danielle Murray, Daphine Mugayo

Kwesiga – basketball players

Kieran Tebben – biker

23

Rainbow Cloud

Anonymous, MS1

Sometimes I feel very small.
A tiny creature with so much to learn.
A long journey ahead.
But every now and then,
Happiness shines through,
Like a rainbow cloud.
That inferior phrenic artery is beautiful.
And I smile.
Thank you, donors.
Thank you, preceptors.
Thank you, lab group!

24

Tricia Tyson – backpacker Chris Parrino – pilot

Jack Peng – pianist

25

Terrifying Beauty

Anonymous, MS1

Every time I look at this picture I am amazed by the beauty of nature. To know that a view as
amazing as this exists in the world makes me believe anything is possible.
But the beauty of nature is not only in scenery. Thanks to the generosity of my donor and her
family I appreciate the beauty of the human body more and more each day.
Every part I see is like the piece of a puzzle that together form the whole.
Every cell of every tissue working together in harmony to support life.
The more I learn the more I am amazed at the capabilities of my body. But at the same time, I
am terrified. Terrified of all the things that can go wrong and destroy a life at any moment.
Every day I learn about these illnesses and the same questions come into my head.
What if these things happen to people I care about? What if I cannot save them?
Then I look at this picture and tell myself to take a breath. I remember that anything is possible,
and something that cannot be fixed today may be fixable tomorrow.
I tell myself to keep learning about the things that scare me so that one day I can conquer them.
I tell myself that I cannot go through life thinking about everything that can go wrong; the best
I can do is to learn so I can be prepared to help when they do.

26

Dominique Gelmann – marathon/triathlon runner Molly Himmelrich – knitter

Zach Bolten & Chris Parrino – swimmers and water polo players

27

The Bends: A Deep Dive into the Depths of Our Own Ignorance

Jonathan Siglin, MS1

More than 500 years ago, the Italian polymath Leonardo da Vinci looked inside a human heart. He peered
into the depths of a veritable black box, and he saw logic and order. He observed, manipulated, sketched, and
pondered— and in time, he fixated on one prevailing mystery. The aortic valve— the channel through which blood
leaves the heart— didn’t seem to have any discernable mechanism of closure. Rather, it just DID— and Leonardo
couldn’t figure out how.

Searching for answers in the anatomy, he built a model. He created a glass heart, complete with an aortic
valve trimmed from a pig specimen, and pumped through it water containing grass seeds so he could appreciate
the precise fluid dynamics. He saw three miniscule indentations in the walls of the valve, and concluded that they
must be creating eddy currents that slam the valve closed.

It took a half-millennium to prove him right. In 1972, a British researcher named BJ Bellhouse, using tools
significantly more user-friendly than grass seeds, arrived at precisely da Vinci’s answer. While perhaps also
demonstrating the value of doing a preexisting literature search before embarking on a research project, Bellhouse
proved something else: with nothing but his eyes, rudimentary dissection tools, and some critical thinking,
Leonardo da Vinci had arrived at a cornerstone physical principle of human anatomy.

500 years later, a group of first-year medical students— armed with the same tools as da Vinci— peered
into a human body and wondered aloud: “is that thing, uh, the heart?” While perhaps it’s unrealistic to hold
ourselves to the standard of one of the greatest thinkers in human history, I had hoped that anatomy lab would be
a bit like driving somewhere new with a GPS. Instead, it’s been a heedless plunge into a world of colors (helpful),
smells (not helpful), and structures that only materialize at the touch of a preceptor’s probe (supremely unhelpful).

Indeed, these first few months of medical school have been acutely demonstrative of how little we know.
It feels a bit biblical— I relate to Adam and Eve, frolicking in the garden unaware that their only clothing is their
Bachelor of Science, blissful in ignorance of what medical school entails. Then the first bite of apple hits— Structure
and Development— and the illusion is broken. God then appears— but in our extended biblical analogy, he has a
lovely Australian accent and would like us to tell him through which foramen the maxillary division of the
trigeminal nerve passes, please.

So here we stand, less than three months into a four year exploration of our own intellectual nakedness.
Where da Vinci saw logical design, I still see homogenously-colored clusters of structures I can’t identify, that run
to places I can’t name, to go about functions I can’t describe. Looking ahead, metabolism awaits. Lurking around
the next corner, integrative physiology. Soon after, neurology. And pharmacodynamics. And parasitology. And
presumably somewhere along the line, as those of us with unfavorable genetics begin to thin at the temples and
go grey, actual patients, with actual problems, will rely on us to tell them that the real doctor will be in shortly.

And that’s a gift. Medical school has taught me that there’s an inconceivable, daunting amount to learn
about the human body. But it’s also taught me that watching YouTube videos on 1.5x speed is an efficient way to
procrastinate, that nobody truly understands embryology, and that you can catch your daily rays of sun as it sets
over the horizon if you know where to sit in the library. And that’s an experience I wouldn’t trade for the world.

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Karly Lebherz & Cynthia Gao - yoga instructors

Sam Day – wine-maker Christine Server – violinist

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Scalpel

Ike Ibrahim, MS1

Sitting in Davidge, waiting for a call
Looking around, no one knows who you are
Twiddling thumbs, Scanning eyes are the norm
Waiting for my name on the class registrar

Carrying doubt, in my head and my heart
Searching around, I don’t know where to find
A chair, a desk, myself, some books
Wondering when my stars will align

Anticipating the worst, first exam is nearing
Unaware of what is expected in testing
Barren fingernails, laundry is piling up
Exam day over, my heart is singing

Looking for a break, stress is overbearing
I’m not studying, time was a waste
I am studying, feeling like a waste
The end is near, all I want is a little taste

Pacing around, wondering how to know it all
Fumbling papers, I don’t know where to start
Remind myself, I’ve gotten this far
Keep it up, keep going, you won’t fall apart

Elevating my motivation, grasping for my grit
Cranial nerves make me want to sleep
Naps and ice cream, what I tell myself I need
Open the books and got to take the leap

Looking up, excited for my future
Making a conscious effort to be happy, I insist
Positive, joyful, content is not enough
Because I breathe, I live, I’m healthy and I exist

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Dr. Diana LaPasha, Faculty
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Ten Weeks

Matthew Tinkham, MS1

Through all the emotions I’ve had during these first 10 weeks of medical school – excitement to begin,
(misguided) confidence in my grasp of embryology, panic at how fast it was starting to go, passion in
witnessing the inside of a human heart, anxiety over my perhaps flawed study habits, joy in the new friends
I had made, euphoria after the first test, and yes, fear of the first cut into somebody’s loved one, fear to gaze
into their eyes – gratitude is still strongest.

I mean, I’m grateful just to be here. In the middle of the second anatomy exam (which was noteworthy
for being grueling), while putting on my scrubs in the changing room, I would jokingly say to my peers, “well,
med school was fun while it lasted, fellas. Time to fire up plan B.” And whenever studying was becoming
considerably burdensome, I’d inform my friends of my lucrative alternative career path – bartering pasta to
hungry concert-goers outside Phish shows (I’m convinced it’s a viable route). But I never really thought of
discarding this way of life. I know all too well that there are a few thousand people who would happily trade
places with me – the people who didn’t get accepted into school. The fear and pain of that rejection, the thought
that you might not be good enough, it can fester. Self-confidence has never been more important to me;
hopefully self-confidence still preserves their dreams. And so that same relief I felt at my NIH desk on the day
I got the “I choose you” email from Admissions still floats on in my head. The first person I told was my PI;
he was so happy (to be rid of me?) he called his wife, before I even called my parents.

I’m grateful for the simple interactions I’ve had here. My roommate, Serge, and I were going to the
Admissions office to drop off our forms to sit in (and be fed) at the Interview Day lunches. I hadn’t been there
since my interview day – on that day that office felt like a courtroom and I was irrevocably guilty of some
crime I never committed (but that I’m still worried I did). Well, the day I was there with Serge, that place felt
like the cheeriest place on Earth. “You’re both first years? How exciting! Do you want some candy?” Kathie
asked us. “Take a few. Come by whenever!” Wow… that interaction was sweet, and it entirely changed my
perspective of that room. At the Medical Alumni Association Phone-a-thon, an alumnus to whom I spoke over
the phone heard the first line of my “asking for donations” script. “Yeah yeah, you can save the sales pitch.
I’ve got the pledge card here, I’ll write a check for it later this week. I want to hear about how school is going.”
A stranger was asking me to complain about studying the muscular layers of the foot out of a sense of nostalgia
and camaraderie. That was a warm moment for me.

And I’m grateful for my donor in the anatomy lab. How many people have seen the vessels in a lung?
How many people can claim to have looked at the horns of the spinal cord? Is there a feeling quite like holding
a heart in your hand? And none of it would’ve been possible without him, my donor. It is downright strange
for me to know so few and yet so many particular things about his life… He had a knee replacement, his heart
really was the size of his fist, and he found it important enough to share his body for my education. For all the
intelligent and wise things Dr. Puche has said to us, nothing resonates with me more than how much of a
privilege it is to be able to study in the anatomy lab. “Anatomy professors teach for their life plus one
semester,” he joked with my lab group one day. I agree with that sentiment, and while I might not ever be an
anatomy professor, I too, plan on teaching in the lab for one semester.

And so to my peers, our professors, and the School, I just want to say thanks for these ten weeks. I’m
elated for the next 186 weeks, too.

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