Not so Cuil

img0077.jpgThis month a new internet search engine was released – Cuil (pronounced “cool”). It is a new endeavor by former Google employees meant to change the way we think about search results. Some highlights include 2 or 3 column listings instead of a single column in an attempt to emulate online newspaper layouts. It attempts to attach an image to each result from the web site in order to provide a visual cue on what to expect and finally, it touts a privacy policy that does not collect personally identifiable information.

Organization, access and privacy – the triumvirate of the information professional.

But now, let’s see how it works.

The search for Academic Health Center University of Minnesota (without quotes) sometimes brings up the AHC home page as the first result (as it should) and at other times, it isn’t even listed. A common variation on this search uses quotes to ensure inclusion so let’s try “Academic Health Center University of Minnesota.” No results were found. That seems a bit drastic. A different variation using “Academic Health Center” “University of Minnesota” does produce results, including the AHC home page, but occassionally the first result presented is the AHC’s dreaded 404 file not found page.

For comparison, the above three searches on Google consistently provides the AHC home page as the first result each and every time.

Let’s give it one last try with the simple search AHC History Project (without quotes). No direct results on the first page. In Google, this blog is number one.

As for the images associated with the search results, some are obvious, others are not even found on the page that is returned, meaning Cuil is just grabbing anything out of an image folder on the server.

Consistency during Cuil’s first week seems to be its biggest deficit. Search engines do get better over time and I may eventually be won over, but for now, Cuil, is not so cool.

 


Ten rules for Med School (and 5 absolute truths for the rest of us)

img0076.jpgA recent reference question asked if it was possible to track down the ten tips Dr. William Albert Sullivan, former Associate Dean of the Med School used to give incoming students. My original answer was a hesitant maybe.

Dr. “Sully” Sullivan was Associate Dean for Admissions and Student Affairs from 1968 until his death in 1990. Originally from Nashville, TN, Dr. Sullivan came to the U of M in 1947 as a resident under Dr. Owen Wangensteen. Dr. Sullivan is probably most well-known for his personal interviews with each Medical School applicant. Dr. Sullivan had the ability to separate the self-assured from the self-absorbed. He was a strong believer in a well-rounded education that gave physicians the ability to relate to their patients on a personal level.

I could find little archival material related to Dr. Sullivan, let alone his 10 rules. I paged through a clippings file with various articles on his service to the Medical School and a few obituaries. It became evident that Dr. Sullivan may have never recorded his advice for medical students.

And then I found it.

In the August 1990 issue of The Cutting Edge, the Department of Surgery’s newsletter, there was a reprint of Dr. Henry Blackburn’s eulogy for Dr. Sullivan. At the end of his prepared remarks, Dr. Blackburn noted that “in keeping with Sullivan’s own fabled love of language and zest for communication, it is fitting to allow him the last word.”

And, here they are for you. Dr. Albert Sullivan’s 10 rules for new med students (and 5 absolute truths for the rest of us):

1. If money is the only thing that leads you into medicine, you might as well give up now.

2. If you want to be in charge all the time, then start your own business where you can call the shots.

3. Medicine is fun, and in contrast to many other professions or skills, people rarely leave it.

4. Any physician who stops learning after medical school is doomed to mediocrity, to poor medicine.

5. The human component of your existence that says you are just as selfish and egocentric as all the rest of those persons who have gone into medicine will keep you going and lead you to that position where you do indeed heal the sick, comfort the afflicted, and have one hell of a magnificent time doing so.

6. You must continue to utilize [your] other interests while in medical school, whatever they may be – athletics, music, painting, etc. If you don’t you’ll be perfectly miserable, and you’ll make a lousy physician.

7. There will be many times when situations arise in which you will need assistance. You are equipped to handle these crises if you take advantage of the resources common to all Medical Students: your own good brains, the support of friends and family, and our Office of Student Affairs.

8. Medicine is not a science or an art. Things are not black or white, but rather shades of gray. The make of really mature medical students is that they can tolerate the ambiguities and uncertainties, as well as the discrepancies of different teachers, knowing that each represents the truth as he or she sees it.

9. As a group you have a high degree of social orientation and desire to be helpful to the patients you will treat. However, it does no good whatsoever to sympathize completely with patients if you don’t know what is happening at their cellular level or if you don’t know what organism is causing their infection.

10. Don’t ever get so over involved with the technical aspects that you forget about the humanness of the people you are treating. This sensitivity and feeling must be combined with your scientific competence in order for you to become a competent and thoughtful physician.

Five fundamental and absolute truths:

1. E=MC2
2. There is no cure for the common cold.
3. There are more horse’s asses in the world than there are horses.
4. Excrement always flows downward.
5. If you’re treed by a bear, enjoy the view.


An evening at the Veterinary Medical Center

Often times our work and personal lives overlap. Such was the case for me this past week as I spent some quality time with my beagle at the Veterinary Medical Center’s Small Animal Hospital Emergency Care.

While waiting in the examine room to learn about my dog’s test results, I began to wonder about the history of the VMC and the care it provides.

Clinical veterinary work first began at the University in 1888 with the appointment of the University’s first veterinarian, Michael Treacy. For the next 60 years, veterinary medicine was taught and practiced as part of the curriculum of the School of Agriculture. In 1947 the School of Veterinary Medicine was established and later reorganized into the College of Veterinary Medicine.

The Veterinary Medical Center grew out of the original veterinary clinics associated with the School of Veterinary Medicine. The clinic on the St Paul campus received state funding to construct new facilities, which opened in 1950. The Veterinary Clinic was to serve as “a hospital for animals just as the University Hospitals on the Minneapolis Campus are devoted to caring for humans. In the hospital, students will be able to observe treatment given by trained University veterinarians to ill animals.” You can read more about the 1950 dedication ceremony in the pamphlet below.

The Veterinary Clinic was reorganized as the Veterinary Hospital in 1969. It was renamed the Veterinary Medical Center in 2003 to better reflect the advanced care and outpatient services it provides.

The Lewis Hospital for Companion Animals is a component of the VMC and was dedicated in 1983. It was named after the MN State Senator Robert Lewis, an advocate for promoting health and welfare in various communities and who was also a trained DVM. There is a plaque honoring Senator Lewis behind the check-in desk above the floor scale.

As for my beagle, he was treated aggressively and released. All signs show him to be in good health. Thank you to all the staff that took great care of him!

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From here to Timbuktu

healthlogo.gifThe New York Times recently ran a story on the digitization of historic Arabic language manuscript material from Timbuktu dating back to the 17th century. The digitized texts represent works of law, science, medicine and the humanities. When the digitization project is completed, scholars will have access to material that will shed light on the methods of health care and medical education practices of the sub-Saharan region (See aluka.org/).

The AHC History Project hopes to shed a similar light on the health care delivery and health science education practices of the latter half of the twentieth century in the United States in order for researchers to better understand the educational practices, the relationships between funding institutions and their academic counterparts, and the areas of research focus during this time in academic medicine.

Although the Twin Cities is a far away both in time and space from the Golden Age of Timbuktu, the process of promoting health care education and practice are still subjects we record in written format and will be the things we pass on to future generations both near and far. Browse a few of the most recently added digitized texts to the digital archives from the AHC archives.


Googling your health

healthlogo.gifIf the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996 (HIPAA) was designed to give patients more control over their medical records in the electronic age, what does it say if twelve years later we decide we’d prefer Google to manage it for us?

In a recent article in the New York Times, it seems patients are eager to do just that:

The Google record … allows the user to send personal information, at the individual’s discretion, into the clinic record or to pull information from the clinic records into the Google personal file.

The move toward online control and access to personal health information changes the previously static, analog patient record into a dynamic set of data that serves multiple purposes. Our concepts of record management and documentation might have to change as well.


What did this place used to be?

Most people do not walk through Fairview’s Environmental Services in the “B” corridor on the first floor of the Mayo Memorial Building. Even if they do, they may not realize that this corridor was the former home to Station 12 of the old University Hospital. They also may not realize that this section of the “B” corridor was originally the Elliot Memorial Hospital which opened in 1911.

A passerby will also not know that at one time an artist, who was also a patient, painted a scene of this corridor and that it hung behind the desk at Station 12. The painting depicted the patient’s view of the hallway while suffering from a detached retina. The upper left portion of the picture is shadowed from the loss of vision. I ran across a copy of this painting in a former newsletter published by the University Hospitals; however, I do not know where the original is located. It no longer seems to be hanging on the wall at the former Station 12.

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Seen your video

Yesterday, Peter Brantley of the Digital Library Federation was on campus to discuss areas of focus for future initiatives. One of those areas was the use of moving images as a source of information.

Without quoting him directly, Peter discussed how YouTube has demonstrated the online use of video to communicate complicated stories through moving images. These videos are compelling and promote the passing of first hand experiences and knowledge onto an audience.

A quick search of YouTube for related University of Minnesota health sciences content produced the following video that is an example of Peter’s discussion. It features prominent U of M medical researchers, Dr. Richard Bianco, Director of Experimental Surgical Services and Dr. Doris Taylor, Director of the Center for Cardiovascular Repair.

Of course, not all University of Minnesota health sciences content on YouTube was of the same caliber, as is seen in this medical student film documenting student housing by mimicking the popular MTV show Cribs.


Part of the process

img0069.jpgWhen collecting the records of an active institution, material trickles in over time, sometimes out of sequence and almost always with the promise of “there’s more where that came from.”

There are also discreet sets of material within an institution related to a particular project or office that is no longer in operation. This material is easier to bookend with a beginning and an end, but often comes to the archives in batches over a period of time. Such is the case with the records of the Board of Governors, an institutional body charged with the management of the University Hospitals from 1975-1996.

In October 2006 I discussed the acquisition of an almost complete run of the BoG minutes. I then identified an existing collection of BoG material already located at University Archives. A year later, my good friends at the Wangensteen Historical Library opened up a locked filing cabinet and discovered nearly 12 boxes worth of additional material related to the Board of Governors’ activities.

For an institutional body that ceased to exist almost 12 years ago, the BoG had the ability to generate records faster than I could collect them.

Now, with the assistance of University Archives, all sets of material related to the Board of Governors are being organized as a single collection that will be available for research and administrative use.

Read the minutes from the first Board of Governors’ meeting held on January 15, 1975:

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Old school spreadsheets

Are you an Excel guru? Or, does the sight of that little green X make you shudder? Either way, I thought you might like to take a look at a few examples of how it was done not so long ago when computing power equaled an adding machine and the flare of a graph was limited only by a straight ruler and your selection of colored pencils.

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What did this place used to be?

A reader sent in the following photograph in an effort to help identify unique and obscure locations within the Academic Health Center.

img0068.jpgThe scale is an 850 kg capacity flat scale (also known as a platform scale) located in the A (north) wing on the fourth floor of the Mayo Memorial Building. It was manufactured by the Toledo Scale Company with its motto, “No Springs, Honest Weight,” printed on the back of the lollipop scale. The scale’s design used a pendulum weight rather than a spring for measurement. The model number indicates it might have been manufactured in 1921, thirty-three years before the dedication of the Mayo Building.

At the time of the Mayo’s opening, the fourth floor was designated as the Department of Surgery including space for operating rooms, recovery rooms, and patient rooms. This type of flat scale is used to record weights of patients (minus the bed or wheelchair) in intensive care or surgical recovery. The scale’s platform was built into the floor and offered a seamless surface in order to role a wheelchair or gurney onto the scale.

The scale is no longer operational. The platform is fixed in place. A few unanswered questions remain: Why was a possibly thirty year old scale installed in a new facility and was the scale in use in the University Hospitals prior to its placement in Mayo? Did the scale serve some other purpose over the years before being disabled?

If you witnessed the use of the scale or used the scale yourself your input would be appreciated in the comments below.

After all, history is a matter of weighing perceived facts counter balanced by interpretation and local knowledge.