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A rough guide to organising a medical congress
DISSECTING ROOM
LIFELINE Peter Fleming Peter Fleming qualified at the University of Bristol, UK, in 1972. He did his postgraduate training in adult medicine and then in paediatrics at Bristol, Great Ormond Street, and Toronto Sick Children’s Hospital. His clinical responsibilities are in neonatal and paediatric intensive care and his research interests are in developmental physiology, mother-baby interactions, and sudden death in infancy. He is now professor and head of the division of child health at Bristol University and a consultant paediatrician. Who was your most influential teacher, and why? Charles Brian at Toronto who taught me to ask difficult questions, and helped me start trying to answer them. Which research event had the most effect on your work, and why? Susan Beal’s suggestion in 1982 that prone sleeping increased the risk of SIDS—I spent 3 years trying to prove this notion was too simplistic to be true, and ended up convincing not just myself but everyone else that she was right! What is the best piece of advice you have received, and from whom? “Don’t believe what is in the books—look at the baby and find out for yourself”, from Peter Dunn who sparked my interest in the newborn baby. What alternative therapies have you tried? Did they work? Osteopathy, and the Alexander technique—both have their value. Do you believe there is an afterlife? Sometimes, it can help to deal with this one. What is your worst habit? My wife says getting up to go running at 0530h (I run marathons), but I see this as a merit. What apart from your partner is the passion of your life? My children and trying to understand as much as I can about anything and everything. Do you apply subjective moral judgments in your work? I very much hope not! What is the least enjoyable job you’ve ever had? Working on a production line in a tin can factory.
1918
A rough guide to organising a medical congress n retrospect, the idea of organising an international medical congress in Muscat, Oman, seemed reasonable. Who could resist our proposed title, “International Congress on Infectious and Tropical Diseases”? Moreover, the prospect of a meeting in such a romantic and adventurous location as Muscat, in the friendliest country in the Middle East, would surely prove irresistible to regulars on the international congress circuit. “But expense? Where is the money going to come from?” asked a pessimistic colleague. “No problem” we assured him, happily. Funds would flow like oil from a new gusher in the Gulf. The pharmaceutical companies would undoubtedly support our modest budget of £100 000, a hope that was subsequently confirmed: substantial sponsorship would be forthcoming. Meetings between the Ministry of Health and the university (the joint sponsors) went well, although some people warned us of possible disaster with few overseas delegates, empty lecture halls, and a colossal bill. We dismissed them with the contempt they deserved. We chose as our venue, the Al Bustan Palace Hotel, one of the finest hotels in the Middle East. All major tropical medicine themes were represented, and to spice up the programme, we included snake-bite and scorpion stings. Leading international authorities were invited and 1500 first announcements and posters were printed. Then we struck our first obstacle: the drug companies were withdrawing support, citing company restructuring and the end of the financial year. We broke up despondently for the summer recess. By the end of the summer, only 50 delegates had registered, then came a new shock: in a superseded e-mail address, 200 unopened enquiries from many major overseas associations and institutions, were discovered. Grovelling apologies were fruitless—almost all
I
had decided to go elsewhere. Despite this disappointment, we printed 1500 preliminary programmes and call for abstracts. Then in the new year the congress was again on the brink of collapse. Belated funding from sponsoring companies was inadequate to cover expenses. We also lacked secretarial expertise (a key secretary had emigrated), and the congress office was in disarray. Just in time, a super-efficient, cheerful secretary was recruited, who rapidly revitalised the office and got the congress back on track. Our morale was further boosted when Acta Tropica offered to produce a special issue on the congress. With 6 weeks to go, still only 150 delegates had registered! At an urgent meeting, cancellation was proposed, but the scientific committee resisted, with support from the dean who commented that late registration was the norm. The president of the congress had the casting vote— “The show will go on!”. A late surge of interest materialised as the final programme and abstract book went to print. With 2 weeks to go, registrations began as a trickle, then as a deluge until 450 had registered. Final crises included several invited speakers stranded overseas without the obligatory visa. The congress finally opened to packed, enthusiastic audiences. More than 700 delegates attended. Many visitors remarked that “Oman was now on the tropical medicine map”. To our treasurer’s satisfaction, we had a modest surplus. Finally, a word of advice to those planning a similar, do-it-yourself congress: start 2 years in advance, organise secretaries before speakers, use the web to its full potential, and check your email frequently. Above all, do not be discouraged by colleagues who say “it can’t be done”. As we say in Australia, “She’ll be right, mate”. Euan M Scrimgeour
THE LANCET • Vol 358 • December 1, 2001
For personal use. Only reproduce with permission from The Lancet Publishing Group.
LIFELINE Peter Fleming Peter Fleming qualified at the University of Bristol, UK, in 1972. He did his postgraduate training in adult medicine and then in paediatrics at Bristol, Great Ormond Street, and Toronto Sick Children’s Hospital. His clinical responsibilities are in neonatal and paediatric intensive care and his research interests are in developmental physiology, mother-baby interactions, and sudden death in infancy. He is now professor and head of the division of child health at Bristol University and a consultant paediatrician. Who was your most influential teacher, and why? Charles Brian at Toronto who taught me to ask difficult questions, and helped me start trying to answer them. Which research event had the most effect on your work, and why? Susan Beal’s suggestion in 1982 that prone sleeping increased the risk of SIDS—I spent 3 years trying to prove this notion was too simplistic to be true, and ended up convincing not just myself but everyone else that she was right! What is the best piece of advice you have received, and from whom? “Don’t believe what is in the books—look at the baby and find out for yourself”, from Peter Dunn who sparked my interest in the newborn baby. What alternative therapies have you tried? Did they work? Osteopathy, and the Alexander technique—both have their value. Do you believe there is an afterlife? Sometimes, it can help to deal with this one. What is your worst habit? My wife says getting up to go running at 0530h (I run marathons), but I see this as a merit. What apart from your partner is the passion of your life? My children and trying to understand as much as I can about anything and everything. Do you apply subjective moral judgments in your work? I very much hope not! What is the least enjoyable job you’ve ever had? Working on a production line in a tin can factory.
1918
A rough guide to organising a medical congress n retrospect, the idea of organising an international medical congress in Muscat, Oman, seemed reasonable. Who could resist our proposed title, “International Congress on Infectious and Tropical Diseases”? Moreover, the prospect of a meeting in such a romantic and adventurous location as Muscat, in the friendliest country in the Middle East, would surely prove irresistible to regulars on the international congress circuit. “But expense? Where is the money going to come from?” asked a pessimistic colleague. “No problem” we assured him, happily. Funds would flow like oil from a new gusher in the Gulf. The pharmaceutical companies would undoubtedly support our modest budget of £100 000, a hope that was subsequently confirmed: substantial sponsorship would be forthcoming. Meetings between the Ministry of Health and the university (the joint sponsors) went well, although some people warned us of possible disaster with few overseas delegates, empty lecture halls, and a colossal bill. We dismissed them with the contempt they deserved. We chose as our venue, the Al Bustan Palace Hotel, one of the finest hotels in the Middle East. All major tropical medicine themes were represented, and to spice up the programme, we included snake-bite and scorpion stings. Leading international authorities were invited and 1500 first announcements and posters were printed. Then we struck our first obstacle: the drug companies were withdrawing support, citing company restructuring and the end of the financial year. We broke up despondently for the summer recess. By the end of the summer, only 50 delegates had registered, then came a new shock: in a superseded e-mail address, 200 unopened enquiries from many major overseas associations and institutions, were discovered. Grovelling apologies were fruitless—almost all
I
had decided to go elsewhere. Despite this disappointment, we printed 1500 preliminary programmes and call for abstracts. Then in the new year the congress was again on the brink of collapse. Belated funding from sponsoring companies was inadequate to cover expenses. We also lacked secretarial expertise (a key secretary had emigrated), and the congress office was in disarray. Just in time, a super-efficient, cheerful secretary was recruited, who rapidly revitalised the office and got the congress back on track. Our morale was further boosted when Acta Tropica offered to produce a special issue on the congress. With 6 weeks to go, still only 150 delegates had registered! At an urgent meeting, cancellation was proposed, but the scientific committee resisted, with support from the dean who commented that late registration was the norm. The president of the congress had the casting vote— “The show will go on!”. A late surge of interest materialised as the final programme and abstract book went to print. With 2 weeks to go, registrations began as a trickle, then as a deluge until 450 had registered. Final crises included several invited speakers stranded overseas without the obligatory visa. The congress finally opened to packed, enthusiastic audiences. More than 700 delegates attended. Many visitors remarked that “Oman was now on the tropical medicine map”. To our treasurer’s satisfaction, we had a modest surplus. Finally, a word of advice to those planning a similar, do-it-yourself congress: start 2 years in advance, organise secretaries before speakers, use the web to its full potential, and check your email frequently. Above all, do not be discouraged by colleagues who say “it can’t be done”. As we say in Australia, “She’ll be right, mate”. Euan M Scrimgeour
THE LANCET • Vol 358 • December 1, 2001
For personal use. Only reproduce with permission from The Lancet Publishing Group.