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ERIE, Pa. (AP) — Her day begins long before the sun rises, 3 a.m.
By 5 a.m. Anna Miller is at the Lake Erie College of Osteopathic Medicine, dressed in a white coat, staring at a computer screen.
The 25-year-old checks patient charts, reads labs, looks at test results from the night before.
She'll need to know this stuff cold and be ready to report to the attending physician. Before that, she'll visit all of her patients, sometimes waking them up to listen to their hearts and lungs.
"Some people are not excited to see people at 5 in the morning," Miller said and laughed. "But I just try to be as happy as possible and see how they're doing, see if they have any major complaints right then and attack those first."
Such is life for a third-year student at the nation's largest medical college.
More than 6,000 students have graduated from LECOM since physicians and administrators at Millcreek Community Hospital established the school in 1992, most from its College of Osteopathic Medicine. LECOM also operates schools of pharmacy, dental study and graduate studies.
Nearly 2,250 medical students are enrolled this year.
Their path to becoming a doctor starts in the classroom with a full immersion: gross anatomy, first semester, first year. They don their white coats after finishing that class, shorter than the long ones the physicians wear but a point of pride still.
Coming in, they think they're prepared for the road ahead: four years until graduation, followed by many more years of postgraduate training in a specialty.
But the full picture doesn't become clear until those early mornings and late nights begin. Many students are coming to Erie for the first time.
It's a tough transition for some, said Regan Shabloski, assistant dean for clinical education.
"The hardest one is folks coming in with a family, trying to balance that 'I'm a father, I'm a husband, I'm a med student. I've got to set aside time and protect time so I can be a father to my child, a husband to my wife, and I always have to set aside appropriate time to be a med student,'" Shabloski said.
Time management is critical. The best students are those who are there for the right reasons, who feel a calling, Shabloski said.
"It's a second marriage, and unfortunately the second marriage is a very jealous mistress," he said. "She wants more and more of your time. To be a physician you have to be mindful to set boundaries and enforce those from time to time to make sure you have a healthy life."
On a recent day, Miller and a small group of other third-year students huddled around a computer monitor in the inpatient rehab unit, looking at an X-ray of a man's lungs. Patients here have had surgery, knee replacements, strokes and need some intense therapy before they're ready to go home. The average stay is two to three weeks.
The man whose lungs were under scrutiny had been complaining of shortness of breath. The X-ray shows pulmonary vascular congestion — fluid on the lungs, in layman's speak. The students need to know this because they'll need to present the case to an attending physician, who will grill them.
"You ask questions until they (the students) don't have an answer," said Danielle Hansen, D.O., a 2005 LECOM graduate. "It helps them learn about different patients and what they're supposed to be learning in the rotation."
Hansen and the group traveled en masse to Judith Wahlenmayer's room.
Wahlenmayer has been in the unit for more than a week, recovering from surgery to her ankle, and her room is dotted with comforts of home: colorful drawings from her grandchildren, flowers, a stuffed bunny named Bun.
A former teacher, she is used to being under the gaze of many pairs of eyes and unfazed when the group of students crowds in.
One of the students, Sanket Patel, listens to her heart. Later, he and Miller will take turns supporting her as she does physical therapy, learning how to navigate steps.
"He listens very well and compassionately," Wahlenmayer said of Patel. "I can tell in his body language."
Hansen smiled. That's what she wants to hear.
"While we can teach them technical skills, it's those things that we can't teach, or are hardest to teach," she said.
The chance to work on her bedside manner and develop connections with patients is part of the reason Miller likes to get to LECOM early every day. She talks to the patients, and not just about their health.
"You don't just always want to focus on what's wrong with them," Miller said. "You want to talk about the happy things, or the little things, like did you have a good dinner last night. If they had surgery, everybody's going to be asking them about their surgery. We're the people who can go in and spend a little more time."
The day that began at 3 a.m. for Miller ends 14 hours later.
Most days she goes to the gym, maybe does yoga. Then she goes home and studies for the rest of the night before going to bed, ready to start all over in a few hours.
She sleeps with a sense of accomplishment.
"I helped people," she said. "I helped them get better, and they're happy."
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Information from: Erie Times-News, http://www.goerie.com
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