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Tank-Mates and Forty Five Years

It hardly seems possible that I graduated from medical school forty five years ago.

It was a weekend of memories and catching up on classmates.

The first year was rigorous, filled to capacity with study, labs, lectures with the most demanding being that of Gross Anatomy.

Disecting a cadaver is not something done in a week—it took us the best part of two semesters to do so—the smell of formaldehyde forrever bringing that memory back.

We were grouped in teams of four. Three guys asked me if I had joined a group—and invited me. Sam and i dove into diseection; he became a gastroenterologist. Ashley, a medic serving in Viet Nam destined to become an ENT surgeon, and Greg who became the physician for the Olympic bicycling team were less enthusiastic.

They teased me—and admitted it was because it was so fun—. I grew up with five brothers, most of my college classes were with males–as I focused on math and science along with the engineers.

And here I am with Ashley.

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