Category: Slice of MIT

Pathology and the Allure of Analytical Thinking

Susan Fuhrman ’75 pursued pathology because she liked providing clear answers to diagnostic questions, and has spent her retirement making complex beaded jewelry, a hobby she started more than 30 years ago as a foil for the stresses of work.

Kathryn M. O'Neill | Slice of MIT
October 7, 2025

Susan Fuhrman ’75 became a pathologist because she likes providing clear answers to diagnostic questions. “As opposed to guessing what people have, you’ve got the lab results, you have reviewed the pathology slides,” she says. “It’s pretty analytical. Your answer is the answer.”

That clarity of focus was never more valuable than in 2020, when Fuhrman was charged with answering the question everyone was asking: Is it Covid?

As the system director for pathology and laboratory services at OhioHealth, a major hospital system based in Columbus, Ohio, Fuhrman led efforts to address the epidemic—through hospital protocols and, of course, testing—all while fielding seemingly endless requests for her expertise in identifying disease.

“Everybody—from hospital vice presidents to the chief medical officer for the system— was calling me late at night and multiple times on weekends. It was incredible,” she says.

Within a year, the system’s labs had performed over half a million Covid tests and Fuhrman had been featured several times in CAP Today, a publication of the College of American Pathologists. She discussed general testing challenges as well as whom to test when and on which testing platform.

As it happened, however, Fuhrman was already famous thanks to work dating back to the 1980s.

Understanding Renal Cancer

The daughter of two chemists, Fuhrman majored in biology at MIT and earned her medical degree from the University of Michigan in 1978. She then went to the University of Minnesota Medical Center for her residency in pathology and laboratory medicine and found herself in need of a research topic. “I remember asking the head of our surgical pathology department, Dr. Juan Rosai, ‘What is a question in pathology that hasn’t been answered?’” she says. “He said, ‘Well, we don’t have a good way of determining which renal cell cancers have a bad prognosis. Currently we go by size, but there must be more than that. No one’s cracked the code. Why don’t you try that?’”

So, Fuhrman teamed up with another doctor at the Minneapolis veterans hospital, Dr. Catherine Limas, and together they developed and proposed a set of parameters to grade kidney cancers that might predict cancer outcomes. Then, Fuhrman did the painstaking work of reviewing and analyzing thousands of tumor slides, as well as cancer registry clinical data and medical charts. Her husband, Larry Lasky ’72—whom she had met at MIT and who also became a pathologist—programmed the analysis and helped her run the data she found through an early computer. “I input everything with computer cards and a teletype, super primitive stuff,” she says.

The data produced clear patterns in the predictive value of the appearance of cell nuclei, and the three published a paper proposing a grading system classifying which renal tumors are most aggressive and likely to spread based on their findings. The system, which is still the standard, is known as the Fuhrman Nuclear Grade for Clear Cell Renal Carcinoma.

American Board of Pathology President

After her residency, Fuhrman taught laboratory medicine to senior medical students as an assistant professor at the University of Minnesota for 12 years before moving to Ohio in 1994. In addition to working at OhioHealth, Fuhrman served for several years as president and CEO of CORPath, a private pathology practice. In 2022, she served a term as president of the American Board of Pathology, which later named her a life trustee in honor of her many years of service.

Fuhrman retired at the end of 2020 and has since spent much of her time making beaded jewelry—a hobby she started 35 years ago as a foil to work. “The job was stressful, and beading uses a totally different part of your brain. The left side can rest,” she says. “I can sit and sort beads by size and color for hours. That’s really weird and mindless, but I love it. I also love bead weaving; it’s like physics and architecture, building beautiful, structurally sound pieces from tiny beads.”

She creates elaborate bracelets and necklaces, often giving them away to friends or donating them to charity. “Jewelry making doesn’t pay very well, but I’m very lucky I don’t need to support myself on my hobby,” she says. “I do this for me.”

Ophthalmologist Puts Mind and Hand to Art

Carmel Mercado ’09 describes herself as “existing at the intersection of health and art.” A Seattle-based pediatric ophthalmologist, Mercado is also a visual artist whose whimsical illustrations and colorful animal characters can be found in places as varied as a children’s hospital and a microbrewery.

Sara Shay | MIT Technology Review
July 26, 2025

Carmel Mercado ’09 describes herself as “existing at the intersection of health and art.” A Seattle-based pediatric ophthalmologist, Mercado is also a visual artist whose whimsical illustrations and colorful animal characters can be found in places as varied as a children’s hospital and a microbrewery.

Looking back, Mercado says that even as a premed biology major at MIT she was pursuing both paths. She took a First-Year Advising Seminar in the arts and found a mentor in Michèle Oshima, then director of student and artist-in-residence programs at MIT’s Office of the Arts, who encouraged her to apply for the MIT Arts Scholars program. That gave her the opportunity to showcase her work in a gallery at MIT.

Mercado’s next stop was medical school at Johns Hopkins (she graduated in 2014). There, too, she gravitated toward opportunities for artistic expression, such as designing T-shirts and posters for an event welcoming prospective students. “That kind of helped me get through some darker days when I was really tired or really overwhelmed by the medical part of it,” she says.

She chose ophthalmology as her specialty in part because she found the eye itself visually appealing. “The first time I saw the fundus, the retina, the back of the eye, it was so beautiful to me,” she says. “Just looking at the optic nerve, the colors, the placement, I thought about how amazing it is that we can get such beautiful and complex imagery of our world from what looks to most people like a blob of jelly.”

Initially, Mercado assumed art would take a backseat to her medical career, but time in Japan—including a MISTI summer internship in Kobe—led her to realize she had other options. She connected with a mentor, Kenji Watanabe, while studying the history of medicine at Keio University in Tokyo during medical school. Watanabe “showed me a very different lifestyle,” she says: He didn’t limit his work to academia. “He had this really cool niche where he could do all this policy work. He was traveling to different countries to meet up with other physicians. It was eye-opening,” Mercado says. “He made me realize you can shape your career and your life to be able to pursue your passions. You shouldn’t just accept the traditional way. Being exposed to that early on probably gave me the courage to do what I’m doing now.”

As a practicing ophthalmologist, she began to involve art in her work by designing patient materials featuring characters she created. Colleagues noticed and offered her commissions. About four years ago, Mercado decided to pursue art full-time. The problem: She wasn’t sure how to promote herself. “I just about tried everything to see what would stick,” she says. She started an Etsy page and social media accounts, and she applied to art shows, art walks, and galleries. After about a year, her efforts paid off, and she started to get invitations for projects.

She has since exhibited her work in juried shows and galleries in the Boston, Orlando, and Seattle areas and has received commissions for public art from several cities in Washington. She even has a piece in the permanent gallery at Japan’s Sobana Museum.

Despite her artistic success, Mercado says she eventually missed the problem-solving and patient care involved in clinical work. She started tinkering with her schedule and settled on a roughly 60-40 split in favor of medicine.

In addition to seeing patients, she continues to pursue art projects, working mostly with acrylics and mixed media on canvas and with digital illustration; her style reflects her experiences with children and her observations of wildlife and folk art around the world, especially in Japan.

“I’ve found a space where I’m happy,” she says, “and where it feels a little bit more balanced for me.”

This story also appears in the July/August issue of MIT Alumni News magazine, published by MIT Technology Review. 

Alumni Spotlight: Distillery Founder with a Spirited Passion

Jennifer Yang, '97, has been drawing on her biology degree for making spirits at a craft distillery in Maryland.

Jessica R. Simpson | Slice of MIT
October 15, 2024

If you had told Jennifer Yang ’97 during her time as a Course 7 major at MIT that she would use her biology degree to run a distillery, she wouldn’t have believed you.

“When I was at MIT, I looked at entrepreneurs and I thought, ‘Oh my gosh, that’s not me. I’m not one of those people who are so innovative and gutsy and brave,’” Yang says.

Managing a distillery is a passion that matured in Yang over time—much like the complex flavor of a barrel-aged whiskey. After graduating from MIT, the New York-native moved to Washington, DC, to pursue a career in management and technology consulting, which involved a lot of after-hours networking events. While building connections with colleagues over a glass of whiskey—a drink that was particularly popular with clients—Yang discovered her passion. Over the course of 10 years, she researched the science of making spirits, explored different small distilleries, and even started a whiskey tasting club.

“Being a science geek at heart and being very curious, I went down this rabbit hole pretty quickly in terms of wanting to learn more about it,” Yang explains.

In November 2022, she and her husband opened Covalent Spirits, a craft distillery, tasting room, and event space in Westminster, Maryland. In addition to producing bourbon whiskey, Covalent Spirits distills and blends vodka, gin, rum, and liqueurs. One of the bar’s unique and in-demand offerings is the “pH,” or “power of hydrogen,” cocktail, which uses the acidity of lemonade to turn a blue tea into a vibrant purple. Yang still works in consulting, but you can find her in her element behind the bar, engineering “pH” (and many other) cocktails Thursday through Saturday.

In her spare time, Yang is a committed MIT volunteer. An active participant in the Club of Washington DC, she is the regional alumni ambassador for the Baltimore area as well. Yang is also an educational counselor and the current president of the Class of 1997. She notes that she and her ’97 classmates were the first to organize pi reunions, a tradition in which alums gather in Las Vegas 3.14 years after graduation. “We’re glad our class could leave a little bit of a legacy,” she says.

In fact, the shared MIT connection between alumni inspired Yang to name her company Covalent Spirits. One year, at an MIT gathering, Yang started talking to another alum about planning events for undergrad classes that shared years at MIT—what they called “covalent classes.” Yang has since incorporated literal and metaphorical covalent bonds (a chemical connection between atoms formed by sharing) into every facet of her business: from the chemistry of making spirits, to the design of the distillery logo, to the company’s emphasis on community.

“While we are striving to create really good products, we also want to create a space and experiences for people to get together and geek out over a common interest, to celebrate an occasion, or to connect over anything,” Yang elaborates. “You share a drink, you share an experience, you share a community. Bonding through sharing is the covalent spirit.”

Transforming Veterans’ Lives, One Kidney Transplant at a Time

When Reynold I. Lopez-Soler, SB ’94, saw his first kidney transplant, during his medical residency, he found his life’s work.

Kathryn M. O'Neill | MIT Technology Review
September 6, 2024

When Reynold I. Lopez-Soler ’94 saw his first kidney transplant, during his medical residency, he found his life’s work.

“It’s such a magical and incredible thing that you can do this,” says Lopez-Soler, director of the renal transplant program at the Edward Hines Jr. Veterans Affairs Hospital outside Chicago. “You’re watching this organ that was taken out [of the donor], practically lifeless and inert, and through the expertise of surgery it comes to life and becomes pink; it starts to make urine.”

About 100,000 people in the United States are currently waiting for a kidney transplant; on average, they will wait five to seven years. Lopez-Soler is expanding access to this care for veterans.

Kidney transplants are life-changing, he says, not only because kidney disease can make people very sick, but because the main treatment—dialysis, which does some of the kidney’s job outside the body—is so demanding that many patients can’t work or even travel. “Getting a kidney transplant not only fixes the problem, but fixes their lives going forward,” he says. “There is this substantial transformation.”

Growing up in Puerto Rico, Lopez-Soler always expected to become a surgeon (his father is a surgical oncologist). During high school, he discovered the MIT Introduction to Technology, Engineering, and Science (MITES) program, spent a summer on campus, and fell in love with the Institute. “MIT was an incredibly inclusive place,” he says. “Whatever you did, you were welcome. I’ve brought that acceptance with me in my ethos in how I deal with people.”

After majoring in biology at MIT (with a minor in Spanish literature), Lopez-Soler earned his MD and PhD from Northwestern University and completed his surgical residency at Yale New Haven Hospital. Then he practiced in Virginia and New York, where he was director of research at Albany Medical Center.

In 2019, Lopez-Soler was tapped to establish the VA transplant program at Hines, and in its first year, it completed 36 kidney transplants. Last year, the center did 105. He now chairs the Department of Veterans Affairs Transplant Surgery Surgical Advisory Board, which helps develop transplant policies and procedures for the whole VA system.

The grandson of a brigadier general, Lopez-Soler is proud to serve veterans. “I was lucky enough to fall in love with the job because of the people we treat,” he says. “It exposed me to these amazing veterans who have done so much for this country.”

This story also appears in the September/October issue of MIT Alumni News magazine, published by MIT Technology Review.

Photo illustration by Mary Zyskowski; image of Reynold I. Lopez-Soler courtesy of Lopez-Soler.