Medicine is a Team Sport: My 50th Medical School Class Reunion
We came from across the entire United States. Although we were mostly men and white, we were a very diverse group. We were from cities and farms. Some came from wealthy families and some from humble origins, but we were all capable people. We knew there were seventy-six spots in Wake Forest Medical School Class of 1973, and over 5000 applicants. Gaining a spot in that class was an accomplishment, and I respected the credentials of my classmates so much that I worried I might not be able to keep up. Thirty-one of the seventy-six attended our 50th reunion this weekend—some from as far away as California. That’s a half century of experience. The reunion reminded me that our time together at the Wake Forest University School of Medicine was one of the greatest gifts and experiences in my life.
We had dinner together at the reunion in Winston-Salem, NC. After dinner, each of us got up in front of the class and spoke briefly about what we did and how our classmates had mattered in that journey. During the course of those comments a pattern arose, and I recognized that this experience was unique in my life. We were all accomplished individuals and we respected each other. More than that, we cared about each other. We had a collaborative and supportive relationship when we were in school. That was not like many of my experiences before or since. I have had people undermine me and attribute to me motives and intentions that I never had. That never happened with my medical school classmates. I don’t even remember a serious argument. We created a wonderful experience together.
The leader of our happy band, the class president Dr. David Mrazek, became the head of psychiatry at the Mayo clinic. Sadly, he died some years ago, and I would like to dedicate this piece to him. He was chairman of the board of the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology. This tribute to him is worth your time.
His favorite artists were Pete Seeger, Judy Collins, Joan Baez, and Bob Dylan-like the rest of us, he was a son of the '60s. These were tense times. Student unrest was widespread. Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy were murdered the year before we entered medical school. On May 4 of our freshman year the Kent State massacre occurred. David organized a group to go see Senator Jessie Helms to express our concern. His large office was almost filled with students from our class. Even then, we were genuinely determined to make the world a better place.
David was an effective leader then and he had plenty of leadership support. Most of us had been in very competitive premed environments. Sometimes even cutthroat settings. Our medical school experience was very demanding. It was a crucible that made us who we are. David led us to a conscious commitment to support each other. We wanted to cooperate and collaborate rather than compete for class rank. We would begin to make the world better by making ourselves better. And that is what we did. We even went to the extent of making it clear to the administration that we did not want to be ranked and compete. While we ultimately lost that battle, that is the way that we conducted ourselves.
This past Saturday evening we had dinner together. There was story after story of how we helped each other. Some of us were language majors. Classmates helped them succeed in biochemistry and physiology. We used one classmate’s strength to improve another’s weakness. We helped each other deal with other challenges in life. One classmate even went over to another classmate’s home at three in the morning to put a dislocated shoulder back in place. We were as serious about our preparation as anyone could be. Our collective accomplishments over the last fifty years document that, but our commitment to collegiality and collaboration was real and persists in our group to this day. We understood team-based medicine before it was cool! The human connection that we experienced together may have taught us better ways to socialize. It may have helped us deal with other medical professionals in a more constructive manner. Our continued enthusiasm for working with other people may even help us to stay healthier longer.
Our broader society could learn some lessons from our class. Leaders and professional people must respect each other and work together for the common good. Our class continues to prove it can be done, and the world is a better place for it. That perspective contributed to our love of lifelong learning to help our friends and neighbors live longer healthier lives. That is why I write in this space several times a week and work with other medical stakeholders to achieve better health at lower cost. Medicine is a team sport! We can slow aging and delay chronic disease now!
As I look at David’s picture, my main regret is that I did not have more time to enjoy him and the other members of my class. My eyes are clouding up with tears and I cannot help myself. He was a good friend. David wrote the following after he learned of his terminal diagnosis ten years ago: "I have lost much of my old life, but thankfully not my old friends... Time has taken on new meanings for me. I do not have enough time left and yet some days go on and on. It is impossible not to become increasingly philosophical. It is undeniable that we all will die and few of us will have much control of the process. However, it is also true that we will all have more control on how we choose to live, and hopefully we will make increasingly good decisions." Even at the end he was teaching us.
Thank you for this tribute. And all my sympathy for your loss.
I am moved by the actions and spirit of the team of doctors in your class. The work that you and your class members have done and are doing definitely improve the world and the field of medicine. Thank you for sharing this, Bill!