Documenting History
When the ¶¶Òőpro School of Medicine held a virtual fiftieth-year reunion for the Class of 1970, pediatric cardiologist Paul Pitlick, M.D., (SOM â70) was struck with an idea: to reconnect with his graduating class, create a book of their stories, and memorialize the unimaginable progress made in medicine over a half-century.
The finished project, Our Stories: Journeys of the Class of 1970, features input from nearly 30 physicians, clinicians, and scientistsâall of whom called the SLU School of Medicine home through the tumultuous years from 1966 to 1970.
Recording the Careers of the Class of 1970
From shifting social values to innovative advancements in medicine, Dr. Pitlick was inspired to document the changing face of medicine as told through his classmatesâ professional biographies. âIâd lost track of most of my graduating class, and I got to thinking, âI bet a lot of these people had interesting lives,ââ Pitlick remembers. âItâs been an amazing 50 years to be in medicine.â
To bring his vision to life, Pitlick reached out to his former roommate, William Gruber, M.D. (SOM, â70), an orthopedic surgeon who, through the four years of medical school, had taken over 500 photos trying to capture studentsâ everyday experiences of what it was like to become a doctor. âThose slides had been stored in my basement for decades,â he recalled, âBut talking with Dr. Pitlick inspired me to digitize and edit them and begin telling our story through the photo narrative that concludes the book.â
As the initial direction of the book took shape, Pitlick and Gruber began reaching out to fellow members of the Class of 1970â50 years after they graduated and began their professional livesâand asked them to write their stories.
The result? âThe book is incredible,â says Gruber. âWhy? Because its stories document the remarkable diversity of careers in medicine that our education made possible.â After graduation, the book details the many different paths that the Class of 1970 pursued, from depth psychoanalysts to clinical pulmonologists to lab researchers to the challenges of a medical missionary. âThe bookâs stories reveal the incredible spread of opportunity available when a person emerges from medical school during such a transformational era.â
Learning How to Learn
Pitlickâs own journey to becoming a pediatric cardiologist wasnât linear. After graduating from University of Notre Dame with a degree in engineering, he realized it wasnât the right path for him, so he opted to attend medical school.
âMost people had humanity or general science backgrounds,â he says. âBut for the age that we lived in, engineering was a very good background for medicine.â With proficiency in math and science, Pitlick could grasp complicated concepts in the field of cardiology: âThe signals we work with are families of sine waves,â he explains. âIf youâre a mathematician, you know what a sine wave is. It turns out the stuff we learned in engineering school was very useful for cardiology.â
Reflecting on his career and his contributions to Our Stories, Pitlick recalls the most important lesson he gained from medical school came from a graduation speech by Dr. C. Rollins Hanlon, chief of surgery: learning how to learn. âThe purpose of medical school is not only to learn all the stuff they were teaching usâyou also had to learn how to teach yourself, because thatâs how you keep up and stay on top of the field. Medical education never ends.â
With a number of technological advancements in medicine, particularly in Pitlickâs field of pediatric cardiology, the ability to continue absorbing knowledge was vital. âYou have to do a lot of reading, talking to people, going to meetings, and just observing,â he shares. âStay open to the experience. When something doesnât seem right, ask yourself: âWhy is that? What are we missing here?â Developing an inquiring mind is most important.â
Navigating Unforeseeable Changes
For Gruber, a life in medicine stemmed from his fascination with living systems and a deep interest in becoming a clinicianâbut he encountered a number of unexpected challenges along the way. After being drafted to Korea for 13 months, Gruber built a career in orthopedic surgery. âAfter residency, I practiced at a conventional community hospital in Seattle for 22 years,â he says.
But in 1999, everything changed for him: âI was diagnosed with hepatitis C, which I acquired in the course of doing surgery,â he says. âAt the time, it was a slowly fatal disease with no effective treatment. I was told, âYouâll just have to live with it.ââ âBecause I was infectious to patients, Hep-C ended my surgical career.â
Ten years after living with that diagnosisâand seeking new sources of meaning in lifeâGruber faced whether or not to start chemotherapy. âSerial liver biopsies showed progressive liver fibrosis,â he said. âIn 2009, current oral treatments werenât available. I had to make a choice.â âI underwent a year of chemotherapy and it worked. Iâve been free of the virus ever since.â
After retiring from orthopedics, Gruber pursued a new priority: writing and teaching about the difference between curing and healing. âCuring is the objective part,â he says. âYou work with data, procedures, and cognitive knowledge. But healing is the intuitive connectedness that comes from reaching out and helping another human being.â
For many of Gruberâs and Pitlickâs classmates, these personal connections with other doctors, patients, and colleagues remain a consistent highlight: âYou reach a stage of life where itâs important to preserve your story and to recognize what youâve accomplished,â Gruber says. âThe choices we made, the chances we took, the care we gave our patients, and our contributions to the professionâit matters now to look back on all of that.â