5 Facts to know about Classics in Medicine

Western medicine has roots deep in classical antiquity. Now that I’ve stated the obvious and created a great intro sentence, there are issues about this that I feel need to be addressed as someone who has a background in Classics. We’ll start with something simple first:

On the left you will see the Rod of Aesculapius, everyone’s favorite God of Medicine (though not the OG GoM). On the right is the caduceus, also known as the Staff of Hermes (the Messenger God), which is often associated with commerce according to Wikipedia. The caduceus is often confused for the Rod of Aesculapius because of the staff and snake similarities, though there are obvious differences if you look closely enough. If you are thinking of getting a cool medicine-themed tattoo, please remember to get the staff with one snake instead of the one with two snakes associated with a god who brought the souls of the dead down to Hades. This is a common mistake that I’ve even seen medical schools make, which kills a little part of me each time.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, many of you are probably wondering why I said Aesculapius isn’t the original God of Medicine, and why I keep spelling his name so weirdly (answer: because I have a BA in Latin and that’s the Latinized version). As many of you probably know, Aesculapius is the son of Apollo. Apollo is known to be the god of many things, including, but not limited to, the sun/light, oracles, disease, the arts, archery, and healing. While the centaur Chiron (the best trainer in mythological history) is credited for teaching Aesculapius most of the healing arts, I personally believe that being the son of Apollo also had something to do with his aptitude in medicine. Of course, this doesn’t stop people in the medical field from being overly obsessed with Aesculapius. Pre-meds wanting to look super good on apps often take Latin classes, and, when they have to write papers, 99% choose to write about Aesculapius (to the dismay of many a professor). Our own school has its own nod to him in the form of the Aesculapian Award. It’s an obsession that I can understand, but I also think goes a bit too far (like when I find a new song I love and play it on repeat for a whole week).

Part of our Aesculapian Awards includes the Podalirian Award for students. This took some research for me, but apparently Podalirius was one of four sons of Aesculapius. He served in the Trojan War with his brother, Malachon. Unlike Malachon, Podalirius survived the war, which I’m assuming is why whoever established this award chose him over Malachon (RIP). However, I believe that OU CoM’s choice in nomenclature reflects a couple important aspects of Classics in Medicine.

For one, Medicine tries way too hard to incorporate antiquity into whatever it can. With regards to medical terminology (which will be discussed in more detail later), it is understandable because much of what we know now was recorded in either Greek or Latin when it was first discovered. However, references to Classics often find their way into our lives through not only awards, but also our student resources (looking at you, Hippocrates), interest groups (@Lumina), and even new medical student blogs! Why is Medicine so obsessed with Classics? For me, it isn’t an issue with Medicine in particular (though it does need to chill a bit), but with Western culture.

Although they have been gone for centuries, the ancient empires of Greece and Rome continue to captivate the Western world in a way that other antiquated cultures have not. We are an Oklahoma school, yet we have more references towards Greek figures than Native American. I looked around a bit to see if anyone had written about Westerners’ obsession with classical antiquity which led me to Dr. Mary Beard’s reflection on how our society closely mirrors that of Ancient Rome. As Dr. Beard points out, our world is a hodgepodge of different cultures, yet we seem to resonate most with the Romans as “many of our most fundamental assumptions about power, citizenship, responsibility, political violence, empire, luxury, beauty, and even humour, have been formed, and tested, in dialogue with the Romans and their writing.” Although this is an extremely sensible reason for why Medicine is infatuated with classical antiquity, it also makes me wonder if medical schools/hospitals in East Asia have nods towards Ancient Greece and Rome as much as we do (currently too tired to do that kind of Googling).

Let’s jump back to Podalirius. Above, you’ll see Book II of The Iliad, one of the three great epics of classical antiquity (you all probably know the Odyssey, though I’m partial to Vergil’s Aeneid because Latin). The arrow is pointing at a highlight which signifies the one of two times Podalirius and Machaon are mentioned in all twenty-four books (aka chapters) of The Iliad (the second time it’s said that one of them is wounded in a medical tent and the other is fighting and obviously not having his bro’s back). So yes, whoever chose to name the student award the Podalirian was really looking around or a huge fan of Book IV of the Bibliotheca. Something I didn’t mention, however, is that Aesculapius also had 5 daughters: Hygieia (“Hygiene”, the goddess/personification of health, cleanliness, and sanitation), Iaso (the goddess of recuperation from illness), Aceso (the goddess of the healing process), Aegle (the goddess of the glow of good health), and Panacea (the goddess of universal remedy) [copied straight from Wikipedia]. While I personally believe that the student award should be the Aesculapian and the teacher award should be switched to the Apollonian or Chironian, it is somewhat interesting that the person decided to choose a healer who is barely mentioned in ancient texts (I’ve read the Iliad at least twice and had no idea who this dude was) over 5 goddesses who are directly related to our practices. I hesitate to call this sexism on the part of whoever established the awards, but I’d be a horrible writer if I didn’t point out that there’s been a movement in Classics, led by Donna Zuckerberg (yes, the sister of Mark Zuckerberg), condoning the use of Classics by white supremacists, and Medicine’s history of being dominated by white males. Make of that what you will.

Finally, let’s talk about medical terminology. This is a particularly touchy subject for me as well as many Classicists for one reason — it’s ridiculous that we still use Latin and Greek. Reminder: these are people who dedicate their lives studying these dead languages that are saying this. Yes, it gives me a huge advantage on Anatomy practicals when I can basically make up a Latin description for a facial muscle and be 100% correct without any idea what I’m doing (looking at you, levator labii superioris alaeque nasi). This doesn’t change the fact that it makes things confusing when Greek and Latin are mashed up together in phrases (see: myasthenia gravis). More importantly, it greatly isolates the patient when you’re talking to them about what’s wrong with them and start using medical terminology that makes no sense. When you talk to them about how they had an episode of syncope, they’re going to have no idea what you’re talking about and be scared sh*tless while naked under a hospital gown having just woken up from fainting. A lot of people don’t know what that word means, and the unknown is the most fearful thing to a patient. Additionally, it just gives us medical students that much more to study since we need to learn to associate these foreign terms with what they actually stand for, and, I don’t know about you guys, but I hate studying. Thankfully, in our modern world, medical English seems to be a more popular alternative, but Latin and Greek are still extremely prevalent in our medical vocabulary, both written and spoken.

Thank you to those who stayed until the end of my TED talk. While it was more ranting than anything, I hope that maybe you picked up a thing or two (at least realize that you need to redo that tattoo you got of a staff with two snakes) and are at least now aware of the presence of Classics in many aspects of Medicine.

Jenn Nguyen is a third year medical student at the University of Oklahoma College of Medicine. In her free time, she likes to bother her dog, Spike, as well as other people’s dogs, volunteer at charity events in cosplay, make said cosplay costumes by hand, and experiment with food recipes. She’s a giant nerd who will talk about Star Wars if you let her, owns a lightsaber and wants more, and likes to pretend she knows what she’s talking about when it comes to soccer.