Will Silva, a bright and engaging M.D. specializing in Internal Medicine, came to Antarctica out of frustration. For 14 years Will was a very successful primary care doctor working for a managed group practice in Seattle, Washington. But when the company's administrators dictated his seeing ever-increasing numbers of patients, and restricted the type of care he could offer, his frustration grew.

Serendipity came to the rescue. His sister, also an M.D., called one day to tell him about an advertisement for a position in Antarctica she had seen in the back of the New England Journal of Medicine. He landed the job and found his niche in the snow covered frontiers of Antarctica. Not a bad place to be if among your many skills is mountaineering.

Before coming to Palmer Station, Will spent over a year at the U.S. South Pole Station as the winter-over medical doctor. But that's another story.

At Palmer Station, the M.D. has to be a jack of all trades. In addition to his role as sole medical officer (part-time anesthesiologist/ gastroenterologist/ orthopedist/ urologist/ gynecologist/ neurologist/ psychiatrist/ radiologist and surgeon), he is the director of the Search and Rescue Team, whose primary objective is to be ready at a moment’s notice to rescue the cook from the depths of a glacial crevice, a scientist stranded on a nearby island, a graduate student off for a hike who has fallen off one of the numerous rocks in the area, or a passenger in a small zodiac boat who has taken an inadvertent plunge into the freezing sea and is at risk for hypothermia.

Oh yes, and there is also the Fire Suppression Team, where Will helps organize a specially trained team of station employees whose job is to ensure the safety of personnel in the event of a fire and do what is possible to keep the station from burning down. Fire is a serious matter here. The nearest fire department is across the Drake Passage. Thus, the two buildings comprising the brunt of the station are each self-sufficient with respect to energy and food supplies. If one goes up in smoke, with any luck, the other is available for shelter until rescue.

Fortunately, to date Will's stay at Palmer station has been relatively benign, medically speaking. Muscle strains, sprained ankles, removing shards of glass from a visiting scientist's foot, nothing yet in the "serious" category. Of course in the event of a truly serious medical emergency, Will's job is essentially to try and stabilize the patient until they can be " med-evac-ed" to the nearest hospital by ship, or in extreme cases, perhaps by air (there really is no airfield here, but theoretically it is possible to land a ski-equipped plane on the nearby glacier).

Thus, when Will greeted us upon our arrival, his mantra was, essentially, “don't get hurt.” There's not much we can do for you this far from a trauma center. Words well-spoken.