Doctor - a zigzag journey

Part 29 - An experience at Dartmouth, USA (1)

Background: 2003 (Age 36 years)

With assistance of Professor Jerry Yeo (Professor of Pathology at Dartmouth Medical School, and Director at the laboratory in Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, USA) and Professor PN Yeoh (Professor of Pharmacology at the International Medical University (IMU), I submitted my application for a scholarship to do my elective term at Dartmouth Medical School. My excellent performance of 7 A's in Master of Science (at the National University of Singapore) and my industrial working experience as a statistician were my strengths. I would like to contribute and enhance my skill in medical research and attend clinical teaching especially autopsy at the institution in USA.

After a few weeks, I received an offer letter for a scholarship from the Dartmouth Medical School/ Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, New Hampshire, USA! The elective term was in winter. The joy and excitement were indescribable! Booking air-flight, applying for a student visa to USA, and preparing winter clothing were my main things-to-do. Professor Jerry Yeo assisted in arranging my accommodation in his colleague's house. I was blessed with the opportunity and assistance.

After a 20-hour flight, I arrived at New Hampshire, USA, for the very first time! Once I stepped out of the airport, I realized that I had underestimated how cold the winter was. It was minus 5 degrees C! Without an inner thermal clothing, I felt the chilly wind found its way through my jumper to gnaw my skin and bone. My teeth were chattering. Following the instructions and map, I managed to get on the Dartmouth Coach to head to my destination. The heater in the coach saved my life.

"Welcome, KC," Prof Yeo greeted me with warmth. The warmth was greatly appreciated amidst the chilly winter.

"Your jumper can't keep you warm enough, the temperature may drop to minus 10 degrees C. I will ask your landlord, Peter, to loan a proper winter jacket to you," Prof Yeo cautioned me.

I met my landlord – Peter and his wife (Joyce) and their daughters. A friendly and lovely family. The house was heated and cozy. They oriented me around the property and showed me the direction to the public transport. The campus and library were within reasonable walking distance.

That night, I was exhausted. I slept soundly.

I woke up to thick snow covering the driveway. I helped shovelling the snow. It was fun. Joyce gave me a lift to the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center (DHMC) on my first day.

Prof Yeo introduced me to his colleagues in the laboratory in DHMC. They were helpful and caring. In the two-month elective term, I attended clinical lectures, pathology microscopy session and autopsy.

The first week was mainly spent in orientation to the people and facilities in DHMC and the campus. I felt comfortable settling in the environment.

One day, I had a surprise.

"KC, get changed into this doctor scrubs and come with me to the autopsy room," Dr. JJ spoke as he handed doctor scrubs to me. He signaled to me that it was urgent as the team was waiting in the autopsy room.

Clad in the green scrubs,I tailed Dr. JJ.

"A 51-year old man died of AMI (acute myocardial infarction/ heart attack)," Dr. JJ briefed me as we walked into the autopsy room.

The room was cold. The team stood by. The bench where the corpse would lie was made of stainless steel with drains surrounding it to collect blood and body fluid during the autopsy.

Within a few minutes, the 51-year old gentleman who had died was carried onto the bench. The team observed a minute of silence. Heads down, some prayed, and we showed respect to the gentleman.

"KC, stand on this side, you can help to weigh the organs when we remove them," Dr. JJ instructed.

"OK," I replied. I had put on gloves, face mask, and safety glasses.

The gentleman was tall and bald, and he had a large body. He was pale.

The scalpel cut through the body. Through the face mask, I could still smell the blood that was flowing down the drain in the bench. Using many types of surgical instruments, the doctors worked their way through to the targeted organ in the body. The heart was removed and handed to me. I felt overwhelmed at the moment handling a dead human's heart in my gloved hands. The heart had served the gentleman for 51 years and it came to a sudden death because of a blocked major artery. 

At the end of the autopsy session, I had reflections: how vulnerable a human can be! A human, living or dead, deserves due respect.