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OK- enough (for now) of the photo documentation of my past month of explorations!  While I am keen to write more about the environment, wildlife, and general experience of my last month in Utah, it’s time for me to get back to the reality of a med student and think (and write) about medicine.

 

A number of schools (and programs) offer Wilderness Medicine electives for medical students, but I chose (and was fortunate to get a spot in) the elective offered by UMass Medical School.  A few things drew me to this program.  First- it has been running for 20 years, so I initially suspected they were doing something right.  Second- many Wilderness Medicine courses are taught in classrooms with field trips and forays “into the wild” for practical experiences.  The UMass course is taught in the wild. With the exception of our first day of lecture, conducted in a hotel meeting room, all our lectures were done outside on snow, in boats, on beaches, or sitting in the desert.  Thirdly- we got to experience three different environments in the course of three weeks.  A few other courses are taught in the wild, but they are taught in a single environment.  Utah gave us access to three, very different, environments (as shown in my previous posts: alpine, river, and desert).

 

This was our main classroom in the alpine section.  We'd just arrived and are taking a quick break before setting camp, but this area was left open and we would congregate here for lectures.

This was our main classroom in the alpine section. A classmate snapped this shortly after we arrived when we were taking a quick break before setting camp, but this area was left open and we would congregate here for lectures. 

 

When I initially described this course to friends and acquaintances, many suggested that this course was basically Outward Bound for doctors.  The answer, I suppose, is yes and no.  There was certainly a lot of medical learning done in this class, but we also gained life skills that will not only help us in future endeavors in the wild but will also give us confidence as we go forward in our medical careers.  Broadly, it taught us to have confidence in our decisions and to use what we have available to do the best that we can.  I’m unlikely to ever have to improvise a splint in the Emergency Room, but knowing that I can, and having that confidence, will carry me and my classmates a long way as we progress to interns, residents, and one day attending physicians.

 

As you might expect, the medical topics that we covered were married to the environments and activities we were doing.  Before heading out on our first big trek we had a thorough lecture on blister pathophysiology, prevention, and treatment. Once in the alpine, we promptly learned about hypothermia, and how to create a hypowrap to help someone with hypothermia.  We learned about frostbite and non-freezing cold injury, as well as thermal burns, sunburns, and sun blindness.  While in the mountains, we also discussed various problems that occur at high altitude.

 

A lot of injuries in the wild are orthopedic, so we had multiple sessions on splinting, immobilizing, and caring for these injuries.  We also learned various lifts, rolls, and carries, utilizing minimal equipment- since you don’t always have a backboard and a team of people to help you.  Along those lines, we learned just how difficult it is to litter carry someone out of a bad situation (you need about 18 people to go 1 mile, and it will take you a LONG time).

 

It's not what you would do in a hospital setting, but how do you get someone with a potential cervical-spine injury free after you’ve just dug them out of an avalanche slide? Stabilize their neck with their arms and drag them! (And kudos to our instructors.  Not only did they dig a deep snow cave for us to locate with avalanche beacons, but one of the brave residents agreed to be buried down there for one of our “scenarios”. I wish I could have seen the look on my face when we realized there was a person 5 feet under the snow!)

It’s not what you would do in a hospital setting, but how do you get someone with a potential cervical-spine injury free after you’ve dug them out of an avalanche slide? Stabilize their neck with their arms and drag them. (And kudos to our instructors. Not only did they dig a deep snow cave for us to locate with avalanche beacons, but one of the brave residents agreed to be buried down there for one of our “scenarios”. I wish I could have seen the look on our faces when we realized there was a person ~5 feet under the snow!)

 

 

The slope that we dug our patient out of- the instructors made the scenarios very realistic while keeping everyone safe.

The slope that we dug our patient out of- the instructors made the scenarios very realistic while keeping everyone safe.

 

Injuries in every settings... here I’m sporting a mid-humeral splint fashioned out of a camping chair (in the rain and on the river).

Injuries in every settings… here I’m sporting a mid-humeral splint fashioned out of a camping chair (in the rain and on the river).

 

A number of dermatologic conditions occur in the wild, so we discussed their various etiologies.  We also discussed methods of wound management, including wounds caused by snakebites, insect stings, and mammalian injury.  (On that note, during our time in the desert our group spotted rattlesnakes, scorpions, and a black widow spider.)

 

A trio of beasties spotted on our trip.

A trio of beasties spotted on our trip.

 

Many of the topics we covered are much more likely to be encountered in the wilderness than in a clinical setting, but some topics are ever-present in any setting.  Anaphylaxis and allergies can occur at any time, and while you may acquire tick-borne illnesses or infections diarrhea in the wild, the incubation time for many of these mean that they frequently present at a primary care office.  Nonetheless, these were topics we covered on this course, frequently harking back to the “bible” of wilderness medicine: Wilderness Medicine written by Paul Auerbach.

 

Thus far I’ve mainly focused on the didactic portion of the course, but much of the learning took place in “scenarios”.  I’ve never participated in simulation medicine, save for the standardized patients we get on our OSCE (Objective Structured Clinical Exam) at the end of most clerkships. While at first it can be awkward to “practice” medicine on people that you know are acting, once you get into the part it is a wonderful way to learn.

 

The beauty (and perhaps the terror?) of our scenarios was that our instructors would let us “play it out” in the field.  In clinical settings, while students may participate in discussions about patient care, they are never in the driving seat.  In our wilderness scenarios we were allowed to make the decisions and deal with the consequences.  At times this was frustrating (can’t I just ask the Wilderness Fellow standing over my shoulder what I should do), but it also allowed me to make mistakes that will stick with me for years to come.  For example, if a “helpful” stander by hands your patient some food, make sure they’re not allergic to it before they take a bite (that’s how a painful case of sun blindness can progress into life threatening anaphylaxis).

 

The scenarios also allowed (or I should say made) students make decisions about evacuation. Do we evacuate the patient? How? Can they walk? Do they need a litter? Do they need cervical-spine protection? Do we leave now or hunker down for the night and head out tomorrow? What’s the best evacuation route? Could a rescue team get a helicopter in here? A snowmobile? Maybe we should send runners to a ranger station? Where’s the closest location we can get cell phone reception?

 

The scenarios progressed with our wilderness medicine knowledge, as well as our knowledge of Incident Command Structure (ICS).  There were twelve medical students in our class, and when we had a scenario with one patient, it would be easy to have “too many cooks in the kitchen”.  On the other hand, when we had three patients, we could quickly run out of hands as people were relegated to “safety officer”, “equipment”, “communications”, and if the scenario necessitated it “runners” leaving the scene to make contact with civilization.

 

All in all, the medical education side of this course was excellent.  Some of the medicine was a review, but it was a much-needed review and one that frequently found we students (who are trained to practice medicine in well-stocked hospitals with multiple imaging modalities at our fingertips) asking “what do we have that we can use” and “how can we do what we need to get done”.

 

Medically, this class was a reminder of quite how much we’ve learned about medicine in the last few years.  It also emphasized that frequently there is no “right way” to handle a situation and your best guess and best efforts may save the day. We were also reminded of the reality that sometimes there is nothing you can do to save a life… and that is an important lesson to learn as well.

 

 

Not a bad place for a lecture...

Not a bad place for a lecture…

I’ve been hesitant to write this post.  This blog is certainly not a travel blog, and it was never intended to be a place where I posted my exciting travels (and to be honest, during the final years of my PhD and third year medical school I didn’t really have any exciting travels to write about).  That being said, I can’t help but post about my adventures in Moab.  If my antics encourage just one person to get outside and enjoy time in the great outdoors, I will consider this post a huge success…

 

Moab…

After completing my Wilderness Medicine Elective, I opted to take two weeks of vacation time (4th year medical students can get a rather absurd amount of vacation time if we play our cards right) to recoup, relax, and since I was already out west, spend time in Colorado with my best friend.  With over 100lbs of luggage to lug around, I managed to sweet talk my best friend into picking me up in Salt Lake City (where my elective wrapped up), instead of hopping a plane to Denver.

 

My best friend is a good sport about road trips (I suppose she should be, as I once drove 28hrs straight with her when she moved cross-country to Colorado), and she was happy to come pick me up, suggesting that we route our trip back through Moab for a bit of outdoor adventuring before heading back to Colorado.  I didn’t know much about Moab before I got there, but I knew Arches National Park was right next door and that the desert portion of my course was in Canyonlands National Park, so I thought it might be fun to swing back through and at least check out Arches on our way back.

 

That was before heading west… Once I met and talked with the river guides who work out of Moab and spent a “transition” day there between the river portion and the desert portion of the Wilderness Medicine elective, I was counting down the days until I would be back.

 

Moab is a stunning place- the rock formations and geology surrounding the town are truly “other worldy”, with the red rock shaped by time and weather into precarious and beautiful structures.  There is also a LOT to do in Moab for people who enjoy the outdoors.  The Colorado River can be enjoyed from rafts, boards, boats, or the shore, there seems to be a new hike for every day of the year, biking (mountain and road) is king, and the weather in May is wonderful for camping (sans-tent, for those-like myself- who are so inclined).

 

There are plenty of places to stay in Moab, but being on a budget and having spent the majority of the prior 3 weeks sleeping outdoors, I was more than happy to camp in Moab.  There are many campsites with RV hook ups, tent sites, and amenities such as showers, but I’m a fan of primitive camping.  Fortunately, for those in the know (or those who get the scoop from knowing river guides), there is plenty of dispersed camping to be had in spots around Moab.

 

view from one of our camp sites up off Klondike Bluffs, about ten miles north of town.

The view from one of our camp sites up off Klondike Bluffs, about ten miles north of town.

 

We spent out first morning in Moab getting coffee (“That Paleo Guy”, Jamie Scott, would swoon at all the coffee spots in Moab) and sorting out plans for the next couple days.

 

Wicked Brew- home of a mighty fine shot of espresso

Wicked Brew- home of a mighty fine shot of espresso

 

After a morning in town we headed out for a hike at Fisher Towers.  This hike, while popular, is a bit off the beaten track (at least in comparison to the tourist heavy hikes in Arches National Park).  The rock formations are stunning and the plant life was beautiful. This place is popular for rock climbers, and it was breathtaking to see them atop the tallest towers.

 

Fisher towers- if you go on this hike, make sure you get on the proper trail… we ended up scrambling quite a bit looking for a trail on various dead ends when we erroneously got started on a “photograph trail”.

Fisher towers- if you go on this hike, make sure you get on the proper trail… we ended up scrambling quite a bit looking for a trail on various dead ends when we erroneously got started on a “photograph trail”.

 

“The Titan” is the tallest structure at Fisher Towers, and is very striking.

“The Titan” is the tallest structure at Fisher Towers, and is very striking.

 

 

Alas, I seemed to have a knack for attracting rain on this trip… As we rounded the turn at the top of the hike, we were greeted by storm clouds and a flash of lightning.  Needless to say, we made a rapid retreat (I did learn about lightning strikes on my Wilderness Medicine course, but like almost all aspects of medicine, the best solution is prevention, prevention, prevention!)

Alas, I seemed to have a knack for attracting rain on this trip… As we rounded the turn at the top of the hike, we were greeted by storm clouds and a flash of lightning. Needless to say, we made a rapid retreat (I did learn about lightning strikes on my Wilderness Medicine course, but like almost all aspects of medicine, the best solution is prevention, prevention, prevention!).

 

After our hike, we headed back towards Moab, making one stop at a local vineyard and a detour down Onion Creek Road.  If you are around Moab and have an AWD vehicle (or are comfortable taking your vehicle through multiple stream fords), definitely check out Onion Creek Road.  If you’re really lucky, one of the dispersed camping sites might be open and available (we didn’t have any luck on that front).

 

My best friend is an avid paddle boarder, and she’d contemplated packing her paddle boards down to Moab for us to use on the Colorado River.  It seemed that renting boards in Moab was a much better option, so after making some inquiries, we ended up renting two inflatable boards (Badfish MCIT) from Canyon Voyages, strapping then to our car, and driving them up river to our drop-in point.  We’d scouted the river the day before and had decided to drop in at Take-out beach and to get out at Lion’s Park: a ten-mile paddle downstream (with my friend opting for the hitchhikers shuttle after parking her car down at the pull-off site. Pro-tip: carry your PFD (personal flotation device) and catching a ride is pretty easy).

 

Boards- Ready for adventure.

Boards- Ready for adventure.

 

While a road parallels the Colorado River the length of our ten-mile paddle, the trip was still very calming.  I’ll be honest- I went through our lone rapids and a couple of the choppy fast-water sections firmly on my knees.

While a road parallels the Colorado River the length of our ten-mile paddle, the trip was still very calming. (Though I’ll be honest- I went through our lone rapids and a couple of the choppy fast-water sections firmly on my knees.)

 

The rest of our day was spent driving out to Dead Horse National Park, seeking out dinosaur footprints (yes really), cooking dinner at our campsite, and then meeting up with a new friend from my Wilderness Medicine Elective- one of the river guides from my travels down Desolation Canyon.

 

I can’t tell you if they’re Therapod or Sauropod footprints, but they were pretty cool!

I can’t tell you if they’re Therapod or Sauropod footprints, but they were pretty cool!

 

As much fun as the previous two days had been, the real adventures began when we started hanging out with a local… My river guide friend was just back from another long trip down Desolation Canyon, which meant that he had a bit of time off before heading back to the river.  The next morning he took us on a hike up to Cable Arch, an arch off the beaten track on an unmarked trail.  Our drive out to the trailhead took us past quite a few petroglyphs, including one that I found very interesting.

 

The birthing rock- my picture isn’t the best, but this petroglyph seems to show a breach position birth.  Some readers may remember that I’m interested in “traditional” positions for giving birth, so I found these depictions particularly interesting.

The birthing rock- my picture isn’t the best, but this petroglyph seems to show a breach position birth. Some readers may remember that I’m interested in “traditional” positions for giving birth, so I found these depictions particularly interesting. (Here’s a better picture.)

 

An arch all to ourselves… something you seldom get in Arches National Park

An arch all to ourselves… something you seldom get in Arches National Park

 

Not another person for miles...

Not another person for miles…

 

Scrambling up and down rock faces is a lot of fun (and an excellent work out)…

Scrambling up and down rock faces is a lot of fun (and an excellent work out)…

 

After a relaxing lunch in town, we headed up to the Sand Flats for an afternoon adventure of rappelling.  I’ve never been rappelling (save for the ~15’ rappel we played with up in the alpine on the Wilderness Medicine course), and I’ll admit that at the top of our first descent I was more than a little nervous.  However, as I lowered myself into the slot canyon (into an area aptly named “the medieval chamber”), my fear was replaced by exhilaration.

 

Rappelling down into the "Medieval Chamber".

Rappelling into the “Medieval Chamber”.

 

The second rappel, off a natural bridge, landed us at the focal point of a somewhat well travelled out-and-back hike.  My best friend went first, and her adventures were well documented by some of the sightseers below!

 

Kate, headed down off the natural bridge

Kate, headed down off the natural bridge

.

The next day found us rappelling again, this time in Arches National Park.  We were truly spoiled to have a local show us yet another awesome spot, for while we left our car in a crowded parking lot, we quickly backtracked along the road and scrambled up a rock fall to find ourselves isolated atop a large mesa.  Hundreds of feet above the other tourists below us, we spent much of the morning relaxing above Arches, in our own world, away from any other visitors to the park.

 

Above Arches- We spent quite a bit of time wandering around the top of the mesa, but eventually we settled down to soak up the sun, talk, and relax.

Above Arches- We spent quite a bit of time wandering around the top of the mesa, but eventually settled down to soak up the sun, talk, and relax.

 

Above Arches- I’m not sure the scale comes through…

Above Arches- I’m not sure the scale comes through…

 

After an hour or so of basking on the rocks, we started our descent back down into the canyons.  This (again, unmarked) path took us down a number of small descents before finally putting us atop a 100’ wall down to the canyon floor.  The rappel was a rush.

 

Can you find me? Hopefully the scale comes through now!

Can you find me? Hopefully the scale comes through now!

 

My best friend and I did plenty of other things in Moab, including taking a drive and some hikes through Arches National Park. Arches IS stunning, but after getting an insiders-tour to some stunning and relatively unknown-to-tourists spots, hiking along crowded groomed trails to ogle at postcard views lacked some luster.  I don’t mean to sound snooty, and I hope it doesn’t come across that way, but I think my favorite moments of this trip to Moab were the moments with friends around bonfires, scrambling up rocks, and quietly taking in all that our surroundings have to offer.

 

After more than a month away, I am finally headed home to New Jersey.  I am heading home physically tired but psychologically refreshed.  I have always believed that nature is *good* for humanity, but I have never experienced this goodness so intensely as in the last month.

 

Through the wilderness medicine elective, my trip to Moab, and then a Memorial Day Weekend camping trip in the mountains of Colorado, I have experienced many different environments.  A big part of experiencing these environments, to me, is learning to be present in the moment- to quiet the mind of all the banality and drama that so easily catches us and to really appreciate what surrounds us.  In the hustle and bustle of normal life this skill takes practice, but it is practice that pays back in dividends on the principle that nature satisfies a deep and primal part of our humanity, and we should seek it out and absorb it whenever possible.

 

Memorial Day Moonrise over Twin Lakes in Colorado- Not sure I can think of a better way to end the day…

Memorial Day Moonrise over Twin Lakes in Colorado- Not sure I can think of a better way to end the day…

 

Find your people, find your places, and enjoy the moment…

I have spent only 5 of the last 25 nights in a bed (4 different beds, to be precise). At this point I feel a touch claustrophobic in bathrooms and feeling clean is certainly a novelty.  My Wilderness Medicine elective is over and I have had an exceptional visit in Moab (more on that in another post). Tomorrow I head to the mountains of Colorado for one last stint in the wilderness before heading back to New Jersey where I will start a radiology elective on June 3rd.  From a month in the wilderness to an elective spent in dark, windowless rooms- the change in environment couldn’t get much more extreme (which is saying a lot, coming from someone who has gone from alpine camping to desert camping in the course of 3 weeks).

 

This is the final installment of “Pic of the Day”, at least for the Wilderness Medicine Elective.  I may not be able to resist a “Pic of the Day, Moab edition”… we shall see.

 

For the desert portion of the course we headed to Canyonlands National Park, specifically The Needles District of the park.  We spent 4 nights in 3 different sites, hiking up to 12 miles a day with heavy packs.  I found this portion of the course the most physically demanding, but at the end of the day it was unquestionably my favorite section.

 

I’ll write details in future posts, but for now: Pic of the day- desert edition.

 

Day 1- Canyonlands

 

The geology of Canyonlands (actually, the geology of much of Utah) is stunning and fascinating.  This is in the needles are, near Lost Canyon, where we spent our first night in the park.

The geology of Canyonlands (actually, the geology of much of Utah) is stunning and fascinating. This is in the Needles District, near Lost Canyon, where we spent our first night in the park.

 

Day 2- Perspective

 

Looking back at Lost Canyon as we hike out to Elephant Canyon, our next campsite. From many vantage points in the park you could see the snow capped La Sal Mountains.

Looking back at Lost Canyon as we hike out to Elephant Canyon, our next campsite. From many vantage points in the park you could see the snow capped La Sal Mountains in the distance.

 

Day 3- Druid Arch.

 

Before we packed hiked our big packs out to Chesler Park, we took an early morning park out to Druid Arch.

Before we hiked our big packs out to Chesler Park, we took an early morning hike out to Druid Arch.

 

Day 4- The Joint Trail

 

Probably one of the coolest trails I have every hiked, winding through a narrow slot canyon.

One of the coolest trails I have every hiked, The Joint Trail winds through a narrow slot canyon.

 

 

Day 5- Sunrise and out.

 

We left camp at 4am for the 3+ hour hike out.  I led the group of 19 by head lantern for 2 hours before stopping on a bluff to watch the sun rise around 6am.  Pre-dawn hikes are something I will be adding to my repertoire.

We left camp at 4am for the 3+ hour hike out. I led the group of 19 by head lamp for 2 hours before stopping on a bluff to watch the sun rise around 6am. Pre-dawn hikes are something I will be adding to my repertoire.

 

I did not expect to fall in love on this trip, but I have certainly fallen in love with the desert.  I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I hope it is soon…

 

Chesler Park.

 

Chesler Park

My Wilderness Medicine elective has officially come to a close. In the last three weeks I’ve experienced three very different environments (alpine, river, and desert) and learned lots of pre-hospital medical care for emergencies that arise in the wilderness.  I have quite a bit to write about, but I liked doing a “pic of the day” for the alpine session, so before I get to a thorough write up of the course I’ll post a “pic of the day” for the river and desert portions.

 

While the course is over, my adventure hasn’t come to an end.  I’m currently taking 2 weeks of vacation time to visit with my best friend, first spending more time in Utah in and around Moab and then heading back to her home in Boulder Colorado.  I hope to get some good writing in during this time… we shall see!

 

Without further ado- “pic of the day” river style!

 

Day 1- We started our adventure at the Sand Wash put in on the Green River where we camped, sans-tent, under the stars…

 

Camping under the stars.

Camping under the stars.

 

Day 2- Over the next 5 days we travelled ~87 miles down the Green River, passing through Desolation Canyon and Gray Canyon.  We saw a few different areas with petroglyphs, presumed to be from Fremont people.

 

Petroglyphs carved into "desert varnish", which according to the river guides (and wikipedia) is at least partially made of manganese.

Petroglyphs carved into “desert varnish”, which according to the river guides (and wikipedia) is at least partially made of manganese.

 

Day 3- Sun rising on the cliffs of Desolation Canyon.  This pic is a bit deceiving, as we actually had more “bad” weather than good.  I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky that we got to experience rain in the desert, but getting hammered with more than a third of the area’s average annual rainfall over 4 days could get a bit demoralizing!

 

A great view by which to enjoy your morning coffee...

The morning view from our campground. A great view by which to enjoy your morning coffee…

 

 

Day 4- Please allow me two pics for this day- I couldn’t chose just one (it would be easy to pick a gorgeous landscape for each day, but there really was a lot more to see).

 

The view from another campground...

The view from another campground…

 

Equipment at an abandoned ranch. During our float down the river we saw abandoned ranches, old mines, and even an old moonshine distillery.

Equipment at an abandoned ranch. During our float down the river we saw abandoned ranches, old mines, and even an old moonshine distillery.

 

 

Day 5- At the end of the day we would gather around a fire recapping the day, telling jokes, and marveling at where we were.  Off the grid, without technology or the distraction of modern society, it was wonderful to decompress.

 

Social gathering place and hot spot for heating evening beverages.

Social gathering place and hot spot for heating evening beverages.

 

Day 6- Our last day of camp was spent just below Rattle Snake Rapids (I loved going to sleep to the sound of rapids).  We were pampered on this portion of the trip, being taken care of by river guides- renaissance men of the modern age.  They’re guides, chefs, handymen, naturalists, historians, and fascinating individuals… I hope to reconnect with some when I return to Moab.

 

The nomadic life, with a new campground each night, was great- especially when gear was being floated down the river and not packed on our back!

The nomadic life, with a new campground each night, was great- especially when gear was being floated down the river and not packed on our back!

 

I’ll post some pics from the desert section when I get a chance!

 

——-

 

And for the skeptics, who question whether there was any medical learning on this trip…

I’ll write more on the medical learning in a future post, but here you can see me rocking an improvised humeral fracture splint… in a torrential downpour (thank goodness for Gortex!)

I’ll write more on the medical learning in a future post, but here you can see me rocking an improvised humeral splint… in a torrential downpour (thank goodness for Gortex!)

 

If you read my last post, you’ll know that I’m currently away in Utah on a Wilderness Medicine elective.  I’ve just come back from the first evolution, the alpine section, and have one night in Salt Lake City before hitting the road tomorrow morning to head to the Green River and Desolation Canyon to take on the next portion of the course.

 

I certainly don’t have time for a thorough write-up of the last week, but I thought I’d give a quick “pic of the day” from the last week to give you an idea of what I’ve been up to.  The pics certainly can’t show all the learning that’s been going on- while there is certainly a large component of this course that many would consider recreation, I think I’ve learned more practical medical skills in the last week than I have in quite some time.  Sure- I don’t know when I’ll next be using an avalanche beacon or when I’ll next use an ice axe to “self arrest“on the side of a cliff, but the skills of dealing with medical emergencies is non-hospital settings and with limited means is certainly important.

 

Without further ado (and because I don’t have much time…)

 

T-minus 1 day… I went shopping.  I knew I wouldn’t be enthusiastic about much of the food available on our trip, so I packed a significant personal stash to keep me going (I ate more nuts in the last week than I have in the last few months).  I also rented double plastic boots, snowshoes, and an ice axe from REI.

 

Yes- I packed a stick of butter and a jar of coconut oil up the mountain... And if I never eat cold, unseasoned, packages of salmon again, it will be too soon

Yes- I packed a stick of butter and a jar of coconut oil up the mountain… And if I never eat cold, unseasoned packages of salmon again, it will be too soon

 

Day 1- The hike up.  I’ve never hiked in snowshoes with a big pack before, so why not add in dragging a loaded sled to the process! Our group of 20 (12 students, 4 residents, 2 fellows, and 2 attendings) hiked up to our site near Lower Red Pine Lake in the Wasatch Mountains.

Wool was definitely my friend on this trip, starting on day 1. Can you spot the avalanche beacon I'm wearing?

Can you spot the avalanche beacons?

 

Day 2- Water. Our group was broken into 4 teams of students and residents, and each day we had different tasks. On our second day my team was in charge of water, which we filtered from this lake.

It is incredibly peaceful out on the lake pumping water (at least when it was warm enough the water didn't freeze within minutes in the tubing.

It is incredibly peaceful out on the lake pumping water (at least when it was warm enough that the water didn’t freeze almost instantly in the tubing).

 

 

Day 3- Snow.  Yeah… this happened. A good 6” of “dust on crust”.

Fresh pow

Fresh pow

 

Day 4- Home. This tent was my home for 6 days. I shared it with two other medical students, and with overnight temps dipping  into the teens (F) I got very familiar with the workings of my 0o mummy bag.

 

Our camp was quite impressive- 7 tents, a double kiva with dug out benches and tables beneath, and a kitchen dug into the snow pack.

Our camp was quite impressive- 7 tents, a double kiva with dug out benches and tables beneath, and a kitchen dug into the snow pack.

 

 

Day 5- Hike day. On our last full day we hiked up to the ridge leading to the false summit of Pfeifferhorn. The views were stunning.

View

 

Day 6- Out.  This morning we woke at 6 to pack camp and head back to civilization.  My feet won’t miss the heavy double-plastic boots, but I will definitely miss these mountains.

Out

 

I plan to write more about the actual medical aspects of this course, but for now I hope you enjoy these pics!

 

And for those that see the t-shirt picture and think this was a warm-weather hike, this is how I was dressed most mornings in camp.  

 

Cold

No- this isn’t another post about books (though I did enjoy the book of this title by Jon Krakauer and I love the soundtrack by Eddie Vedder).  Rather- I wanted to let you all know what I will be up to for the next few weeks.

 

Wilderness Medicine is, well, kind of what it sounds like- providing acute medical care in various outdoor environments.  Being an outdoor person, this was an area of medicine I’ve been rather interested in exploring.  My school doesn’t offer a Wilderness Medicine elective but many schools do, and they generally welcome students from other schools.

 

A number of months ago I set to, looking at a number of Wilderness Medicine electives offered by other schools and organizations.  There are quite a few options, but one, run my U Mass, really caught my eye.

 

I should interject at this point to say that, due to the timing of my PhD defence, I started the clinical years of medical school half a year off schedule with most students. Unfortunately, that meant that when I started looking at wilderness electives, I was a bit behind the eight-ball timing wise.

 

A number of months ago I sent an e-mail to the organizers of the U Mass Wilderness Medicine elective enquiring if they took students from other schools.  They replied, kindly informing that they did but that the course usually fills up a year in advance (and it runs from the end of April for three weeks).  Somewhat disappointed, I set up my schedule for the remainder of fourth-year medical school, sans wilderness medicine elective.

 

Fast forward to three and a half weeks ago when, out of the blue, I got an e-mail from the program coordinator asking me if I was still interested in the Wilderness Medicine elective.  After some frantic shuffling of my schedule I was able to say yes, and have been hustling to get myself prepared ever since.

 

Bags are packed and I'm ready to go (both under 50lbs, though I'm getting close).

Bags are packed and I’m ready to go (both under 50lbs, though I’m getting close).

 

Tomorrow morning I leave New Jersey to head to Salt Lake City (and to think- I was there less than 3 months ago).  After spending a couple days meeting up with friends and seeing the sights of SLC, I meet up with the students, residents, fellows, and faculty who will be participating in the Wilderness Medicine elective.

 

The main reason I was particularly interested in the U Mass elective was because it is a 3 week elective taught almost exclusively IN the wilderness (unlike some other programs that do a lot of classroom-based learning and then have excursions into remote areas).

 

The elective is broken up into 3 components, an alpine section, a river section, and finally a desert section.  In each we receive faculty taught lectures, participate in scenarios, and hear (and give) student lectures (my topic is diarrhea and communicable diseases).  I’ll write more when I return, but this is what I know for now.

 

The alpine section

 

We head up into the Wasatch Mountain range where we set up a base camp that we will be living in for the next 6 days.  We snowshoe in with all our gear (apparently about 50lbs in our packs, plus pulling sleds, and then camp on snow for the next 5 nights.  Here we learn how to live in the alpine environment, the basics of mountaineering, avalanche training, how to lift and move patients with spinal injuries, as well as attend lectures on topics relevant to the alpine environment.

 

The river section

 

After snowshoeing out of the mountains we have a day to recover in Salt Lake City before heading to the Green River for the river section of the course.  Over the next 5 days we raft down the river (camping on the banks each night) and learn about water-associated injuries (drowning, of course), as well as other injuries and illnesses that occur in the bush, including fractures (and improvised splints), dislocations, wilderness dermatology, mammalian injuries, and evacuations.

 

After a transition day in Moab (where we can apparently opt to participate in outdoor activities of our choice, or perhaps enjoy a needed day of R&R), we then head to the desert portion of our course.

 

The desert section

 

Having had a chance to check out Moab, we head to Canyonlands National Park.  Here, we hike into the desert (in smaller groups, so as to decrease our impact), and set up camp for 4 days.  We meet daily for lectures on topics such as snakebites, heat illness and injuries, communicable diseases, wilderness toxicology, and other relevant topics while also learning skills such as orienteering and mass casualty training.

 

Throughout the course, in addition to many lectures, we participate in 12 “scenarios” which further train us for practicing medicine in the wild.  There will be 12 medical students, 4 residents, and 2 Wilderness Medicine fellows, as well as faculty.

 

I’ll be interested to see what happens when it comes to camp dinners.  They asked if anyone had “dietary restrictions”, with a special shout-out to vegetarians.  While I’ll be willing to eat things that I usually don’t consume (rice and beans, for example), I really hope I’ll be able to largely avoid processed foods, grains, and vegetable oils… we shall see.  I’m also a little nervous that I’ll get some foul looks for my choice of footwear.  The packing list suggests bringing hiking boots (or maybe hiking shoes) for the desert and river portion: I have neither, and imagine that trying to get some and break them in would not be a good idea (not to mention that I am kind of opposed to thick soled heavy hiking boots). Instead, I have my minimalist trail running shoes and my vibrams… I’ve climbed a 13er in Colorado with them, hopefully I can hack it carrying a heavy pack!

 

Up Matterhorn in Colorado, happy in my VFFs.

Up Matterhorn in Colorado, happy in my VFFs.

 

So there you have it- starting Monday morning (maybe sooner) I’ll be off the radar for large chunks of time (though you wouldn’t know I was on the radar with the frequency of my blog posts).  When the course is done, my best friend will be picking me up in SLC and I’ll be heading back with her to Colorado for a vacation before coming home to start a radiology elective in June.  On the way back to Colorado we plan to spend a couple days in Arches National Park- since I’m sure my appetite for the outdoors won’t yet be sated.

 

More posts to come!

A few months ago I did a two-week elective with our hospital’s Emergency Medical Services. Over those two weeks I saw all manner of medical “emergencies”.  Some were true emergencies, but plenty were BS calls where first responders and ambulances were called into action when what was really needed was an $8 taxi ride to the emergency room (or even better, $8 worth of broth and a couple days in bed to get over the flu, but I digress).

 

I met some wonderful first responders on this rotation. People that really want to help others and who obviously get a high from the adrenaline of being called to duty in an emergency.  As I saw bits of the recent Boston and Texas events unfold I imagined how the EMTs and medics I worked with would have jumped to duty in these situations.  Indeed, many of them did 11.5 years ago when they responded to the attacks on the World Trade Centers.  One of the women I worked with lost a friend who was responding that day.

 

Unlike the hospital environment, where people usually avoid any controversial conversations, I frequently found the topics of religion, politics, taxation, healthcare reform, and gun-control being discussed. The disagreement was sometimes vehement, and the conversations often heated, but there were never any hard feelings at the end of the day.

 

I worked with a number of EMTs and medics on my 2-week elective, but I bonded with one in particular. I think we had matching (or perhaps complementary) streaks of cynicism and optimism (yes, you can be both a cynic and an optimist. In my case, I think my cynicism protects my optimism from being snuffed out by reality).  He asked if I had read The House of God [1], by Samuel Shem, (the nom de plume of psychiatrist Stephen Bergman), and when I said I had not he insisted that I must.

 

I ordered the book right away, but like so many excellent book recommendations, it took me a while to get around to reading it.  I finally started a couple weeks ago, and quickly devoured the whole book.

 

The House of God is a satirical novel that portrays the life of a medical intern in the early 1970s.  A lot of things have changed for interns since this book was published- the most notable (for the sake of this novel) is work hour restrictions. Nonetheless, there is much about this novel that made me, even as a mere medical student, laugh, cringe, and nearly cry.  I have since recommended it to many other medical students and residents with the description that it is “brilliant, hilarious, and terrifying”.

 

The book is, of course, fiction, but it is, in essence, true.  It is as poignant today as when it was first published in 1978.

 

Some of the scenes are things that I can relate to, if not describe verbatim, from my experience as a third year medical student.  Some of the patients I have seen are the embodiment of the caricatures described in this novel. “The Yellow Man” with his failing liver, the (relatively rare) young patient who invariably has some condition we can not treat and who sadly dies, the (common) old patient that we can not treat effectively but that we can patch up well enough to carry on… These are patients I know, even though they are fictional.

 

I won’t write a review of the book- it is brilliant, and I think everyone involved in the medical community should read it. I find myself wondering what non-medical people think of the book… I suspect it would be hard to decipher satire from actuality- the line is definitely not clear, even for those who work in the medical community.

 

The House of God uses terms that are familiar to those who work in a hospital- and I’m not talking about words you find in a medical dictionary. The term “turfed” is when a patient is moved from one medical team to another (such as from a general team to a specialty team, or vice versa), a “bounce back” is a patient that your team treated who was then transferred to another team or discharged from the hospital, only to “bounce back” to your service.  The term “gomer” is one that I write with some reluctance.  It is a word that I have never heard uttered in the hospital, and have only heard in “humanism” lectures (in which it was made clear that no one should ever use the term), which describes “a human being who has lost-often through age-what goes into being a human being”.  The House of God is how this term first became well known, a term that is an abbreviation for “Get Out of My Emergency Room”.

 

The same author, again under his pen name, published a piece in 2002 in the Annals of Internal Medicine entitled “Fiction as resistance” [2], in which he describes using storytelling to illustrate, and retaliate against, the brutality and inhumanity of medical training and the practice of medicine. Fiction makes reality palatable.

 

In this article Shem writes about how he encourages people to resist the inhumanities of medicine. The keys, he believes, lie in (1) learning our trade and being aware of the world around us and our patients, (2) avoiding isolation, (3) speaking up, and (4) learning empathy. I am not sure how one learns empathy.  Sadly, some aspects of medical practice almost seem designed to dispatch it.

 

Just as I finished The House of God, my mother sent me a book for my upcoming birthday.  I’ve quickly read about half of On Call: A Doctor’s Days and Nights in Residency [3], written by Emily Transue, an internist on faculty at the University of Washington.

 

Reading these books in immediate succession is powerful.  One is satirical fiction while the other is reality, but if you changed the writing styles you could easily swap the real stories for the fiction.  Both write of the dehumanization that occurs during medical training, but Shem follows the adage “if you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they’ll kill you”.

 

Sometimes I think I’m too young, too “wet behind the ears”, to write about dehumanization in medicine.  I’m only a fourth year medical student, how much have I really seen.  Other times (well, most of the time), I worry that expressing my feelings, especially in writing especially on the internet, is just asking to have things I say come around and bite me at some point in the future…

 

Another part of me, however, thinks that medical students are best positioned to recognize dehumanization in medicine.  We are the least indoctrinated, the least hardened.  As students, we also know that there’s a lot we can’t do. The idea, of course, is that with training we will be able to fix people, heal people, make things better.  Sometimes we can; frequently we cannot.

 

As students, we know that we are fairly powerless in the management of a patient’s medical care.  This can be frustrating when you think there is something that could be done that might help a patient, but also leaves you in a position where you don’t feel like you’re personally failing a patient when there is little to be done (at least medically speaking).  When those with more medical clout, more medical ability, are faced with a situation where the best medicine we can offer will do little good, they sometimes have a hard time letting go.  As if saying “there are no more medical options we can try” or “this isn’t going to get any better” is admitting defeat.

 

Perhaps it is defeat. But maybe in this circumstance admitting defeat makes you better.  When you realize that you have exhausted your medical options, perhaps you can finally treat the person, not the disease.  It’s just a shame that we don’t always treat the person first.

 

1.            Shem, S., The House of God. 1978, New York, New York: Dell Publishing.

2.            Shem, S., Fiction as resistance. Ann Intern Med, 2002. 137(11): p. 934-7.

3.            Transue, E.R., On Call: A Doctor’s Days and Nights in Residency. 2005: St. Martin’s Griffin.

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