University of New England

No Other Place on Earth: Lacey McIntosh, '10

[Editor's Note: The following profile originally appeared in the November 2007 COMmunicator]

Four hundred autumns ago Bartholomew Gosnold caught sight of the low-lying island with its brush-cut head and tumbling bluffs, thanked God, and dropped anchor to its lee. Sailors aboard the Concord probably let down a longboat or the captain’s gig, held it fast against the blue swell, then cast off with an iron belly full of armored English soldiers and Gosnold in the bow. Perhaps he stood. More likely he sat, scanning the beaches for natives as the sailors stroked their oars.

Gosnold was young – just 30 – but courageous, and he had pioneered a direct sailing route from the Azores off North Africa to the rock-ribbed coast of New England. The week before, he had arrived at Cape Elizabeth, Maine, then skirted the coast and anchored in York Harbor. After a few days, Gosnold proceeded south, where he christened Cape Cod and encountered the island now steadily rising before him with each pull of the oars. 

A bump and a scrape and the boat shuddered to a halt, beaching itself just a few feet from land. Gosnold probably leapt out with a shout as his men piled into the surf, splashing their way to the virgin shore. Of course, it wasn’t really virgin – it was inhabited by the Wampanoag tribe – but English explorers didn’t tend to view things that way. Gosnold quickly trekked the island, glimpsed some wild twists of grape, and promptly named it “Martha’s Vineyard” after his second child.

Martha would have been pleased, no doubt, to see such a fine island bearing her name, except that Martha never saw anything of the sort – she was dead. So much for island romance. Within five years, Gosnold himself perished from dysentery and scurvy - the diseases sucking the moisture from his body and torching him with fever - after helping to pioneer a colony on the malarial stretch of lowland in Virginia called Jamestown. The Vineyard, in retrospect, would have offered a better shot. Hindsight is always 20/20. 

A Finer Sort of Life

Take a map of the Eastern Seaboard. Five miles off the hard-scrabble coast of Massachusetts, Martha’s Vineyard appears like an upside-down, legless heifer; the town of Aquinnah (formerly Gay Head) forming its muzzle, and portions of Chilmark, West Tisbury, and Edgartown rounding out its back and haunches until a little tail of land tucks around toward Nantucket Sound. In the lee, the popular towns of Oak Bluffs and Vineyard Haven form the udder. 

In the late 1800s, the United States Board on Geographic Names went on a quixotic crusade to remove all possessive apostrophes from U.S. place names. Their zealous fires burned throughout the land, leaping even briefly to include the re-named “Marthas Vineyard,” until another Board thought better of it and sheepishly reinserted the singed apostrophe. Today, Martha’s Vineyard is one of the few place names in the country to bear that possessive punctuation.

The island is home to 11,000 year-round residents, but in summer that number swells to a happy 150,000 or more, with gingerbread cottages and sputtering mo-peds inciting a quiet culture war between hardy Vineyarders and their softer, sometimes-neighbors from “off-island.” Lacey McIntosh knows all about The Vineyard and its peculiar quirks. She also knows that it is her home and that she really doesn’t want to practice medicine anywhere else. There’s no other place like it in all the world.

Daddy’s Girl

A picture from Lacey’s childhood shows her and older sister Katie peering curiously at baby sister Amanda, all blond. “No love is like a sister’s love,” Lacey says. “Having these two people in my life who I never need to explain anything to is incredibly comforting. They are always on my team, rallying behind me for everything that I am and everything that I want to be.” Lacey’s father, Bruce, owns an auto body shop in Edgartown. Without boys, Bruce was never without sons, teaching his daughters to bat and field a ball from their earliest days. The Vineyard had few all-girls’ leagues, so Lacey found herself competing in co-ed matches that tested her skills and validated her ability. She could often out-throw the boys.

She was a Daddy’s girl – still is – but never the violet sort to blush and back away. She learned to fish for bluefish and striped bass, spent every summer day at the beach, or out on the boat with a rod and tackle. “I had to reel the fish in,” she remembers, “and carry it myself, no matter how big it was. At the annual bass and bluefish derby, my dad bought us the registration pins each year.” The Derby – in its 62nd Year – is one of the largest of its kind in the nation. Bruce McIntosh won the bluefish division this year – Lacey beams and thinks it’s better than winning the White House. 
 
While she is her father’s daughter, Lacey knows that her mother gave her many gifts, as well. “My mother gave me passion with tranquility,” Lacey reflects. “She is a wonderful, bright, and committed woman with the sweetest disposition. She raised me to be a strong, independent-thinking woman whose goals are never out of reach. She is the supporting mainstay in my journey to medicine. She has an inner peace even under the most chaotic conditions. I hope that she has passed along not only a middle name – Joy – but also some of these traits that make her an amazing person.”

Truly composed people are content – that’s their secret. To a secure person, joy may be found in the unspectacular and the overlooked. Without the need for constant stimulation, a turning leaf or a trolling lure becomes the highlight of a season. Lacey McIntosh knows something about all this. “The Vineyard is so beautiful,” she says, trying to find the right words to describe what can only be felt and experienced. “It’s home. The people are like a huge family; everyone belongs, everyone is very secure. I never felt like I was different than other students in my high school; we were all friends and yet we were fine on our own. It’s a weird composure.”

Off-Island

Lacey learned in high school that she was very good at field hockey. The team was new, the whistles frequent, and the field pretty awful, but a great coach and good players helped The Vineyarders advance to the Massachusetts Division II championship. “I played defense,” she recalls, “and had lots of power from baseball; there were corner hits where I would just wind up and wail the ball.” Another girl was specially designated to stop the missile, and time after time they converted the play to a goal. They didn’t win the championship, but the trip to Worcester’s turf field gave Lacey a taste for what it might be like to live off-island.

“I had island fever when I was in high school,” she reflects. “I loved to take trips off-island and didn’t really appreciate how secure and lovely it was. Now, I feel like there’s no other place on earth like this – that’s how I want to raise my kids. I want to serve these people.” Her parents were excited for Lacey to go to college and she flirted briefly with UMass, but the relationship never went past the kissing stage. “Almost a third of the Island kids go to UMass,” she says, “and many of them tend to live together, hang out all the time, and create their own Island community off-island. With insecurity comes growth, so I felt that in order to grow up and truly get a taste of the real world, I would need to go and start a life of my own.” Her advisor recommended Holy Cross, and as soon as she visited the campus on a hill, Lacey was smitten. “It’s beautiful,” she says.

Off-island was definitely different. She was surprised by the psychosis many young women off-island seemed to have with their appearance. “It was eye-opening to see the insecurity and self-esteem issues that so many had,” she recalls. “It was a culture shock, really. It just wasn’t like that at home; most girls I knew felt comfortable in their own sun-kissed skin. At college, girls would take forever dressing themselves and putting on makeup before going to dinner. I’d be like, ‘Come on, we’re going to dinner… at the Dining Hall; we’re not going out to eat.’ It was just totally different than what I was used to.” That first September, she went to the mall in Worcester and picked out a winter coat. “My friends were like, ‘You can come back, you know. You don’t have to buy that yet!’ But I was always used to hoarding things!”

“I Wouldn’t Take My Car Anywhere Else.”

Entering college, Lacey hadn’t put all the pieces together in what turned out to be an obvious puzzle. “I love science,” she smiles, “and I love people, but I didn’t realize yet that I would become a physician. I entered Holy Cross as a physics major, then switched to history and earned a B.A. I loved writing, and I loved dissecting other people’s writing, and I wouldn’t have changed that part of my undergrad at all.” Lacey is articulate and writes very well, and her communication skills are obvious in even casual conversation. Still, she hadn’t yet found her calling, until a recurring theme developed in conversations with other Vineyarders.

“People would always tell me, ‘Lacey, your dad is so honest, I would never take my car anywhere else,’” she says. “And I began to realize that my dad was providing a critical service to the entire community, and that they all respected my dad and trusted him with their vehicles, which, in a way, is sort of like patients entrusting themselves to a doctor. After all, most people don’t know much about engines or how to fix their own vehicle, so it is very much a relationship based on trust. I realized that I want to have the same relationship with my community and provide a service to them.”

Armed with her newfound vocational goals, Lacey got an internship at Massachusetts General in a nuclear medicine lab and continued with pre-med classes. The lab was more rewarding than she had hoped. “I was able to design my own experiments and see them through from start to finish,” she says. “We had plenty of funding, and we were doing cutting-edge research studying neuroblastoma tumors in infants. Our goal was to find a non-invasive way to detect tumors in infants, and we were successful. That really introduced me to the whole non-invasive approach to medicine.” The experience prepped her for osteopathic medicine. [As an aside, Lacey’s research for this project was just published on 10/30/07.]

Hard Ball

The only downside to Lacey’s B.A. track at Holy Cross was a perceived lack of clinical experience, which her pre-med advisors decided would cripple her chances to get into medical school. Lacey fumed. “They had plenty of time to tell me that before my senior year,” she says, “and no one did. I was pretty irritated with the whole situation.” Fortunately, she was able to continue her work at the radiology lab, and in the meantime, she looked for something to brighten her spirits. It had to be a passion. But far from the clean beaches and friendly security of The Vineyard, Lacey didn’t see how she could thrive. Then she Googled “women’s softball or baseball leagues,” and one of the first hits was the NAWBL, the North American Women’s Baseball League. With one click she had found her passion.     

The NAWBL is a professional league with four divisions, one of which is based out of Lynn, Mass. “I didn’t really know if I had a chance,” Lacey admits, “so I went with no expectations. But when I arrived at the first of three tryouts, I gauged myself against the other women.” She found that her skills and power were quickly polished, and before she knew it, she’d been invited back for the next round. And the next. Before she knew it, she was drafted to play shortstop for the North Shore Spirit. She was delighted. “I’m not gonna lie to you,” Lacey laughs, “about the only spectators were family members, but it was still professional ball and it was competitive.”

Movement on the ball was different than in softball, but there was also more time to react. Lacey started most innings and batted well. Her red and black uniform with white pants looked downright mean. “It was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had!” she laughs. “Games were in the afternoon or evening, since everyone had day jobs, but it got me through that year.” The League continues to grow and improve, and the ultimate goal of the women is to gain entrance into the 2008 Olympics. Lacey, though, had other goals.

Easy to Complain If You Want To

With a year of clinical experience under her belt, Lacey applied to medical school. “I applied to both osteopathic and allopathic schools,” she says, “but the more I researched, the more I thought that osteopathy fit my mindset and values. Plus, the Island has a really holistic sort of feel to it with an appreciation for many types of healing and an expanded definition of health. There are no D.O.s on the Island, but I think that one would be well-received.” After she interviewed at UNECOM, Lacey didn’t want to go anywhere else. “I love it here!” she says. “This is where I want to be.” The beautiful campus, vast ocean, and friendly people made it a place like no other. Well, almost like no other.

“I love medical school, but it is difficult,” Lacey confesses. “It is easy to complain if you want to. You have to remember that studying so much isn’t who you are as a person. I tell myself, ‘It’s not me, but it’s something I do. I fought for this; it’s a difficult journey to get here, and there are hundreds of people who would want my spot.’” The perspective keeps her grounded and humble, and her optimism and love for people keeps her cheerful. Plus, she’s been able to direct some of her passions into the many opportunities afforded her. After a year of involvement in the Student Government Association, co-editor of the yearbook, and membership in various clubs, Lacey ran for the SGA presidency and won.

“I love the SGA!” she says warmly, with a sincerity that makes a listener smile. “I love learning more about our profession, then sharing that information with my classmates. It can be a challenge trying to get other people to care, but they should care. They need to care. We can make a difference. I love the opportunities we are given to get involved in leadership positions.” Lacey is a member of the Dean’s Search Committee, and has also traveled to the national COSGP meeting (Council of Osteopathic Student Government Presidents) and the AOA. She participated in the recent UNECOM Strategic Planning Retreat, and gives well-reasoned and carefully articulated student perspectives on a wide range of issues.

The Wind and the Sea

At times, the load of leadership can seem overwhelming when combined with a healthy burden of academics, but Lacey remembers the words of wisdom given by last year’s SGA President, Jake Budny. “Jake gave an honest assessment of the position and the time involved, as well as some of the frustrations that come along with it,” Lacey says. “He said, ‘If you’re in it for the wrong reasons, you’ll hate it.’ And I can see how true that is. But I love it, and I try to keep a balance. I have to learn to say ‘no’ to other things, and pick and choose what’s most important.” Lacey is president of the Student Radiology Association and plays intramurals to keep herself sane. She is also involved with the research club on campus – “Just to keep my toes in the water!” – and loves to travel home to The Vineyard on school breaks or long weekends to spend time with her dad and fish for stripers and crab.

Though nothing’s written in stone, Lacey likes immunology and radiology and figures that rotations will help sort out any future specialty. “I’d like to do research,” she says, “to help contribute to the whole of medical practice and treatment. I’d like to make medicine better overall, and be part of a bigger thing.” In five years, Lacey will be “poor but happy,” and getting closer to the day when she can return to The Island to raise a family and serve the people she grew up with. If only he’d had more forethought, Gosnold would have called it “Lacey’s Vineyard.”

There’s no other place on earth she’d rather be.

- Steve Smith, RSAS

Lacey and her Dad. Photo courtesy Lacey McIntosh, MSII.