Sunday, August 20, 2006
I struck a happy balance of singing and science while I studied at the University of Vermont (UVM). For two exciting and rewarding years, I led a double life. In the daytime, I was a dedicated student of molecular genetics, a tutor and an undergraduate researcher. At night, not unlike a vampire, I emerged from the lab smelling pungently of glacial acetic acid to band together in song with ten gentlemen, the Top Cats.
In the fall of 2002, I auditioned for the all male A Cappella group at UVM. Before then, I had only sung in Rock bands. The A Cappella singing style—beautiful and raw—was markedly different than Rock’s familiar, but overpowering, instrumentation. However, I loved to sing and summoned courage to audition. That next morning at 1am the ten current members towing five surly alumni stormed into to my room to “sing me in”.
My time in Top Cats was demanding, enjoyable and chalk-full novel experiences that would later shape my aspirations. I adapted to not only the new singing style, but to working within a group—all of us having distinct egos and expectations. Soon after my initiation, we were performing at philanthropic events all around the North East. We sang, among other things, old Doo-wop standards such as “In the still of the night”. Smiles, accompanied sometimes by clapping, would fill the room. Everywhere Top Cats sang, either planned or spontaneous, we left an impressed and grateful audience. I was impressed that my presence and skill could affect such gratitude in people. This feeling was entirely novel and completely enthralling.
In college my love in the evening was song; my love in the daytime was science. I researched cell differentiation at UVM under Dr. Cedric Wesley. He became my mentor and model of a shrewd scientist. In the year that followed my graduation, our research blossomed into my first-author publication. This was exciting, but something was missing. Certainly, a life in basic science would be rewarding: exactly what a career should be. Yet, I felt disconnected from people, as my days in Top Cats were now over. I realized I wanted to strike a balance between these to facets of my personality. Medicine seemed to have this balance; I began consider medicine more seriously.
What is it like to be a physician? I had to answer this question. Since I was twelve, I have witnessed the trials that await a perspective student of medicine. My mother had returned to college, then medical school, late in life, and was just finishing her residency when I graduated college. She inspired me with her passion, tenacity, and regaled me with many rousing stories. Nevertheless, there was only so much I could learn from oral accounts. Personal experience in a clinical setting was what I required to make a solid decision on medicine as a career.
Clinical research was the marriage of the medical experience I sought and research skills I had. Also, I was ready to be out of my element. I’ve always been curious about city life, having grown up in rural Maine and spent most of my days in Northern New England. I decided to couple new employment in clinical research with a move to a city. After careful consideration, I chose San Francisco for two reasons. First, it is home to the University of California San Francisco: one of the most progressive and respected medical institutions in the country. Two, I would be most decidedly out of New England, and my element. I established a plan: find employment at UCSF and make San Francisco my new home. So, I bought a one-way plane ticket. Once there, began flooding the inboxes of investigators with my resume and a cover letter designed to pull at heartstrings. I received a reply from Dr. Karin Petersen of the Pain Clinical Research Center (PCRC) and was invited to a daylong interview. In the end, I was offered a position as a clinical research associate at UCSF.
My days in San Francisco have brought me closer to answering my original question: What is it like to be a physician? I will not be able to fully answer this question for many years yet. Although, everyday at the Pain Clinical Research Center brings fresh, enlightening events, all solidifying a choice well made. Every subject I interview, every piece of data I collect, every interaction with the doctors who oversee the studies, brings me a step closer to the answer. I am currently running a study that requires me to spend many hours with the subjects while they receive morphine. Every person I meet is different, and that is exciting. They’re as different in their aspirations, stage-in-life and humor, as in their response to the drug. Other ways they are the same. Each subject is curious about their body and what is happening to it. Each person has questions; they need a tailor-made and informed explanation. I am again excited that I never cease to learn. There is a unique dichotomy in medicine that suits me. This dual role of a physician—I’ve half experienced and half observed—is the perfect balance between scientist and singer. As an audience expects a singer to be skillful and passionate with song, a patient expects a physician to be skilled and keen with knowledge. I seek to fulfill that expectation. For now, I remain committed to my research, always edger to learn more.
In the fall of 2002, I auditioned for the all male A Cappella group at UVM. Before then, I had only sung in Rock bands. The A Cappella singing style—beautiful and raw—was markedly different than Rock’s familiar, but overpowering, instrumentation. However, I loved to sing and summoned courage to audition. That next morning at 1am the ten current members towing five surly alumni stormed into to my room to “sing me in”.
My time in Top Cats was demanding, enjoyable and chalk-full novel experiences that would later shape my aspirations. I adapted to not only the new singing style, but to working within a group—all of us having distinct egos and expectations. Soon after my initiation, we were performing at philanthropic events all around the North East. We sang, among other things, old Doo-wop standards such as “In the still of the night”. Smiles, accompanied sometimes by clapping, would fill the room. Everywhere Top Cats sang, either planned or spontaneous, we left an impressed and grateful audience. I was impressed that my presence and skill could affect such gratitude in people. This feeling was entirely novel and completely enthralling.
In college my love in the evening was song; my love in the daytime was science. I researched cell differentiation at UVM under Dr. Cedric Wesley. He became my mentor and model of a shrewd scientist. In the year that followed my graduation, our research blossomed into my first-author publication. This was exciting, but something was missing. Certainly, a life in basic science would be rewarding: exactly what a career should be. Yet, I felt disconnected from people, as my days in Top Cats were now over. I realized I wanted to strike a balance between these to facets of my personality. Medicine seemed to have this balance; I began consider medicine more seriously.
What is it like to be a physician? I had to answer this question. Since I was twelve, I have witnessed the trials that await a perspective student of medicine. My mother had returned to college, then medical school, late in life, and was just finishing her residency when I graduated college. She inspired me with her passion, tenacity, and regaled me with many rousing stories. Nevertheless, there was only so much I could learn from oral accounts. Personal experience in a clinical setting was what I required to make a solid decision on medicine as a career.
Clinical research was the marriage of the medical experience I sought and research skills I had. Also, I was ready to be out of my element. I’ve always been curious about city life, having grown up in rural Maine and spent most of my days in Northern New England. I decided to couple new employment in clinical research with a move to a city. After careful consideration, I chose San Francisco for two reasons. First, it is home to the University of California San Francisco: one of the most progressive and respected medical institutions in the country. Two, I would be most decidedly out of New England, and my element. I established a plan: find employment at UCSF and make San Francisco my new home. So, I bought a one-way plane ticket. Once there, began flooding the inboxes of investigators with my resume and a cover letter designed to pull at heartstrings. I received a reply from Dr. Karin Petersen of the Pain Clinical Research Center (PCRC) and was invited to a daylong interview. In the end, I was offered a position as a clinical research associate at UCSF.
My days in San Francisco have brought me closer to answering my original question: What is it like to be a physician? I will not be able to fully answer this question for many years yet. Although, everyday at the Pain Clinical Research Center brings fresh, enlightening events, all solidifying a choice well made. Every subject I interview, every piece of data I collect, every interaction with the doctors who oversee the studies, brings me a step closer to the answer. I am currently running a study that requires me to spend many hours with the subjects while they receive morphine. Every person I meet is different, and that is exciting. They’re as different in their aspirations, stage-in-life and humor, as in their response to the drug. Other ways they are the same. Each subject is curious about their body and what is happening to it. Each person has questions; they need a tailor-made and informed explanation. I am again excited that I never cease to learn. There is a unique dichotomy in medicine that suits me. This dual role of a physician—I’ve half experienced and half observed—is the perfect balance between scientist and singer. As an audience expects a singer to be skillful and passionate with song, a patient expects a physician to be skilled and keen with knowledge. I seek to fulfill that expectation. For now, I remain committed to my research, always edger to learn more.
# posted by Matt @ 9:59 PM 
