Georgetown University
Med students get eye-opening crash course [The Journal]
by Hope Katz Gibbs
The Journal
Nov. 9, 1997
Sixteen-year-old Laura Bruno may not have understood everything the lecturer explained, but she did get an experience most never will have in a lifetime. She held a human heart.
Bruno was among an unusual group of 150 “medical students” who never plan to put the initials M.D. after their names. They just want to know how to best communicate with one.
“On the first night we got to see the anatomy lab,” she says of Georgetown University’s new mini-medical school—a part public relations effort / part public education program designed to improve patient-physician relations.
Adapted from similar programs offered at medical schools across the country, this one is an eight-week abbreviated medical school curriculum. Participants get crash courses in anatomy, pharmacology, immunology, physiology, rheumatology, endocrinology, and ethics. All are taught by doctors and professors affiliated with Georgetown Medical School.
The Heart and Soul of Dining: Robert Giaimo [Georgetown Magazine]
by Hope Katz Gibbs
Georgetown Magazine
Fall 1997
ROBERT GIAIMO (B’73) WAS JUST A freshman at Georgetown when hunger got the best of him. His craving for hot food during 2 a.m. study sessions led him to open his first restaurant, a Blimpie’s sub shop franchise, at 19 years old. More than 25 years later, the founder of the Silver Diner restaurant chain has 10 restaurants that create a 1950’s dining atmosphere, including jukeboxes and milkshakes. Giaimo hopes to extend his chain to every main street in America. Thanks to a 1996 cash infusion from George Naddaff—the multimillionaire franchising whiz who helped turn Boston Chicken (now Boston Market) into a national chain—Giaimo may get his wish. After one meal at the Silver Diner, Naddaff invested $16.2 million.
Back on His Feet: Tony Mazlish [Georgetown Magazine]
by Hope Katz Gibbs
Georgetown Magazine
Fall 1996
TONY MAZLISH (G ’81) DIDN’T SET OUT to be in the back business. Quite literally, he fell into it. During a move in 1986, he leapt from the bed of a Ryder truck with a boxed television set in his arms. “I heard something snap,” says Mazlish, 31. “It didn’t really hurt at first. It started as a twinge, but the pain kept getting worse and worse. Within six months I had gone to several doctors, but none of them could really help me.” Finding little consolation within medical community, Mazlish became intrigued by the idea of a store that catered to back pain sufferers. He started researching similar stores across the nation. “No one was doing it the way I would do it,” he said.