Dean's Letter

As mentioned in past writings, one of my greatest joys in my role as dean is being involved in the personification of medicine at so many levels. It’s a rewarding experience to place the white coat on the shoulders of each eager first-year student, to share the pride at commencement exercises, and to meet with working alumni and enjoy their accomplishments at the very peak of

their professional careers.

I find different enrichment when I have the pleasure of visiting with our retired alumni; however, because it is this important group that continues to remind me that what they gave throughout their career in medicine did not stop with their retirement.  Seldom do I meet a retired physician that does not volunteer at a healthcare clinic or with a reading program or garden club or some other civic or community organization.

One of the physicians I speak of is William Schwartz, M.D. (B.S.Med. ’55), Hillsborough, CA. Dr. Schwartz gave his life to medicine and during his “extra” time founded and operated a free

clinic recognized today as one of the best in California. He also writes his thoughts in prose and poetry. Last month he sent me the following words. It reminded me again, about the kind of doctor this school has always educated. I would like to share it with you.

H. David Wilson, M.D.

Vice President for Health Affairs and Dean

Covering the ER

By William Schwartz, M.D.

On a warm balmy night many years ago I was

covering the emergency room.  All was quiet.

Suddenly the doors exploded open and two men rushed in holding a thin elderly man.  “He collapsed in the street and we picked him up and brought him here!”

I bent over him, my face close to his.

“What’s the fuss about?” he whispered.

I introduced myself and told him what had happened.  Around us, everyone was jumping into action: 02, IV, ECG, blood, fluids, meds…

Somehow in the turmoil, he and I created a serene conversation.

He told me was 90 years old and had been out for his evening walk…The pain... His ECG revealed a complete heart block …insert a pacemaker.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer and said, “Don’t worry about me; I will be fine.”

I explained to him his condition was very delicate.

He asked, “Will I die?”

“You may”, I responded, “but we are doing everything we can for you to live.”

“Either way is fine. I have lived a very full, happy life and I am prepared to die. Don’t worry”, he said. “You look so serious”.

I felt a heaviness that always attends this kind of situation lighten.  For a moment there was a calm over the battlefield.  He smiled gently and died.

Who treated who?

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