Advertise on podcast: Researchers Under the Scope

How can oncologists predict which cancer treatment is most likely to work for a given patient? Dr. Andrew Freywald explores that question by growing tiny, living models of real-life patient tumours — organoids— then watching how each one responds to existing cancer drugs.   Freywald, a longtime cancer researcher and professor in the Department of Pathology and Laboratory Medicine at the University of Saskatchewan's College of Medicine, said establishing an organoid development protocol took a "lot of trial and error."   "This is a complex process. It requires a lot of factors and also requires a lot of technical expertise," said Freywald, crediting his laboratory team. He said it took several years to create the right conditions to grow miniature pancreatic and ovarian tumours.   Freywald and his team deliberately chose two of the most difficult cancers to treat. Only 13 per cent of patients diagnosed with pancreatic cancer survive five years.   In women, ovarian cancer causes more deaths than any other cancer.   "Both cancers need serious improvements in treatment protocols," said Freywald.   He said when first-line cancer therapies don't work, modeling tumours in organoids will allow researchers to narrow down the most efficient drugs.   "It was amazing for me how really closely these models represent the regional tumors in terms of their genomic organization and in terms of their morphology," Freywald said.   He said the challenge lies in the tumours themselves. Each one is slightly different from the next.    "This uniqueness makes it very hard for oncologists to predict which tumor, which treatments would or would not work."   Over the coming months, Freywald and his team will test organoids derived from 100 individual tumour samples, assessing them against thousands of approved drugs. Their research is still in the proof-of-principle stage; it isn't yet a routine way to choose a patient's treatment.   But if Freywald and his team succeed, this could help pave the way for clinical trials and more personalised cancer care.   "Our analysis would probably provide these options to them and that would obviously improve their chances for survival," Freywald said.   His research is supported by donations to Saskatoon's Bruce Gordon Memorial Pancreatic Cancer Research Fund, along with Genome Prairie, CIHI, the University of Saskatchewan, the Saskatchewan Health Research Foundation, and health start-up OncoForma.   "Our hope is that when we pass these through initial stages, including clinical trials, we will be able to convince Health Canada to accept it as a standard of care, at least for some cancers," said Freywald.  "It's really exciting."

Miniature human brains grown in a Saskatoon lab are upending the way researchers see neurology and immunology. Neuroscientist Dr. Tyler Wenzel is using brain organoids to challenge decades of rodent-based research, charting a new course for precision medicine.   As a high school biology teacher, Wenzel's students learned how hearts pump blood and lungs move air. But apart from neurological electrical activity, neither Wenzel nor the textbooks had many clear answers about the brain.   During his graduate studies, Wenzel realized the same experimental question tended to produce opposite results for mice and humans. The key difference, he found, lay in how each species' responded to toxins and injury,  leaving him skeptical of neurological therapies tested on rodents. Now an assistant professor of psychiatry at the University of Saskatchewan, Wenzel focuses on youth degenerative brain disease and the limits of traditional research models.   He grows human brain organoids — "mini brains" — from pluripotent stem cells derived from sources like blood or skin. Measuring two millimetres apiece, those organoids resemble tiny blobs of chewing gum. "We will turn [cells from a patient] into pluripotent stem cells, and we will make their mini brain, and because it has their genetic information, we get a brain that has their pathology," Wenzel said.  "If you do that same mutation, often in a mouse, the pathology won't appear. So it allows us to actually get a pathology we can actually study," he said.   When Wenzel was first hired at the University of Saskatchewan in 2024, the budget-conscious researcher built his lab on a shoestring, picking up secondhand centrifuges, balances, fridges and freezers from industrial start-ups. That move saved him time, and hundreds of thousands of dollars.  "All the money that we started off with, it is literally going to just the research team and directly to the research," Wenzel said, crediting NSERC and SHRF for their support. "I am so grateful."   Today, Wenzel studies childhood cerebral X-linked adrenoleukodystrophy (ALD), a rare degenerative brain disease that strikes children, and is fatal when left untreated. His organoids may provide proof of concept for new ways to target the brain and nervous system, without the need for radiation, chemotherapy, and lifelong immunosuppresant drugs currently required for hematopoietic stem cell transplants.  "Chemotherapy and irradiation makes holes throughout your whole body. So we can do it in just your brain, just your spinal cord, and then we can inject the immune cells specifically into those locations," Wenzel said. "That eliminates many of the things that make chemotherapy uncomfortable, many of the things that make any sort of stem cell transplant uncomfortable."   This spring, Canada's Stem Cell Network singled out Wenzel's work with a Rising Star Award, saying his work demonstrates "leadership, creativity and potential for major impact". If his method shows promise in treating ALD, Wenzel's approach could pave the way for more targeted, effective and far less invasive treatments for a range of degenerative brain diseases.

As Researchers Under the Scope marks its 100th episode, we hand the microphone to Dr. Linda Chelico, who recently accepted a five-year term as Vice-Dean Research, Biomedical Sciences, at the University of Saskatchewan's College of Medicine.   Originally from Melfort, Saskatchewan, the virologist and biochemist outlines her two main priorities: upgrading research infrastructure and raising the public profile of her colleagues' work.   Since the Covid-19 pandemic, Chelico said biomedical researchers are now expected to team up producing multiple lines of evidence supporting the same conclusion, before publications accept their findings.   "Is it just specific to that cell? What about cells from other parts of the body, or other cancers?" she explained. "They might also want you to do the studies in an animal model."   Alongside a second vice-dean who will oversee the College of Medicine's clinical trial unit, Chelico wants to strengthen collaboration, pushing more discoveries toward real-world treatments.   She also says it's time to make biomedical research more visible to donors and the general public, through social media outreach and real-life tours of the Health Sciences complex.   "A lot of times people drive by this nice, shiny building, this new building that went up, you know, 10 years ago, on College Drive and they probably wonder, what are we doing in here?"    Chelico said connecting those dots should help boost health-related infrastructure investment from both the public and private sectors.   A yet-unnamed vice-dean will focus on clinical health sciences and population health, overseeing the College's clinical trial service unit. Together, Chelico says their goal is to more effectively link laboratory discoveries with investigator-led clinical trials that lead to new treatments for real-life patients.   She sees this as a time for renewal.   "I think it's a really great time to be here as a biomedical researcher, because there's a really big chance to have an impact on what the future will be," she said.    "People are really collaborative here."

Dr. Holly Graham never planned on nursing. She wanted a police badge, then a law degree and a judge's bench. Instead, she followed her mother's wish and walked into nursing school as the only student from a reserve in a class of more than 200. The isolation was real. So were the health gaps she saw every shift. In this episode, Graham traces her path from being the only Cree nurse in her graduating class, to becoming a professor of psychiatry, registered doctoral psychologist, and  Indigenous Research Chair in Nursing at the University of Saskatchewan. Her curiosity about widespread health disparities for Indigenous people pushed her back to university, into a master's degree and a PhD focused on Indigenous health. She continues to provide mental health counselling for patients carrying deep-seated trauma and symptoms of PTSD. She also explains why watching Grey's Anatomy during the pandemic inspired her to create a free pocket-sized 'CPR Racism' guide. "CPR underscores the urgency of life," said Graham. "People are unfortunately not having the best health outcomes, and in some situations dying as a result of racism." From that insight, Graham created a free CPR RACISM Guide that was mailed to every nurse in Saskatchewan. The goal is to name harmful behaviours, protect patients, and support colleagues without slapping labels on anyone. Along with founding a Professional Practice Group for Indigenous nurses and nursing students, she's found ways to turn loneliness and unanswered questions into mentorship networks, national training guidelines, and real-life tools that reshape the way nurses see their patients and themselves. "Health really is wealth," she said. "If we want to address health disparities, we need a representative workforce and a culture of caring that doesn't repeat past harms."

Most childhoods don't involve sitting at the hospital for an infusion of medication, transfusions on weekends, or worrying that classmates will comment on the colour of your skin. For one Saskatoon teen with an ultra-rare blood disease, that's everyday life. She was diagnosed with a form of anemia so uncommon only a handful of cases have been identified globally.  In this episode, Sarah Tehseen (MD) & Katie Felton (MD) share how they're working to change her "normal" by opening a phase 3 pharmaceutical trial and fighting for a better quality of life.   We hear how Tehseen and Felton each got into medicine, why they love working with kids, and what it's like to be there for families on "one of the worst days of their life."  "It's getting them through the next day, week, month and years ahead," said Felton. "So even though, yeah, I deal with blood disorders and cancer, which are really can be difficult conversations with families, we still have fun."   They pull back the curtain on the effort it took to bring a this drug trial for an ultra-rare form of anemia to Jim Pattison Children's Hospital. From having to respond to 40 or 50 e-mails a day, to forfeiting vacation time as their patient goes through blood draws and clinic visits, it's a heavy lift. "Definitely, it requires some changing and plans for us at times, to be able to accommodate and facilitate that," said Tehseen.  "Having two physicians doing it together, rather than being doing it alone, is has, has been super helpful."   They discuss the hidden financial realities of rare drugs, and the importance of blood and stem cell donation. Both physicians say they find true joy in detective work, and in finding the right treatments for their patients. And even simple things like learning a child's favourite video game or doing bunny-hop races down the hall can help kids coping with rare diseases feel a little less alone. Tehseen says it's worth learning more. "If she's your classmate, if she's your student, know what it is, how it's affecting her. Because the more you know, the better you're able to show up in the life of that person," she said.     OneMatch Bone Marrow Registry - https://www.blood.ca/en/hospital-donors-and-volunteers/become-donor/one-match Canadian Blood Services - https://www.blood.ca/en

Peter Hedlin (PhD, MD) recalls being a 'young, naïve medical student' when he asked a mentor a question that's stuck with him for years. "I remember asking how anaesthetics work on the brain," said Hedlin. "And he said, 'we actually don't really know'. And I thought that was crazy."   Today, Hedlin is an anesthesiologist and clinician scientist at the University of Saskatchewan's College of Medicine. He examines what surgery and sedation do to the human body — in particular, to aging brains. Trained first as a microbiologist who earned his PhD as a vaccine researcher at VIDO (Vaccine and Infections Disease Organization), Hedlin was always drawn to medicine. He gravitated toward helping patients one-on-one, and loved the immediate feedback of operating‑room decisions.  "I love to see immediate consequences of actions and anesthesia's perfect for that," he said. "Some people hate being in hospitals, but I love it."   In this episode, Hedlin unpacks post‑operative delirium: the "loopiness" many people feel a day or two after surgery. Most of the grogginess eventually wears off, but for those over age 60, it can persist. In older adults, cognitive dysfunction may appear as visible agitation, as patients hallucinate or pull out intravenous lines following surgery. Conversely, it can be easier to miss when patients enter a quieter, hypoactive state, withdrawing and not talking as much.    That 'acute brain failure' can last weeks, months, even years. It's linked to longer hospital stays, higher short‑term mortality and a greater chance of ending up in long‑term care.  "We don't have a great understanding why that happens," said Hedlin. "I'd love to make care for our elderly patients better, and we know cognitive dysfunction in the surgical period is common."   Hedlin says that work begins before long the patient's surgery date. Along with nursing managers, psychiatric and geriatric specialists, he's piloting a screening tool to assess older patients for frailty and cognitive risk. He asks patients to bring along a friend or a family member, who knows their baseline, to assist with daily delirium checks before and after the operation.  "When we can identify these patients several weeks before their surgery, then it gives potentially an opportunity to intervene and optimise that patient prior to their their surgical event," he said. Hedlin is also participating in larger, randomized studies, and is watching developments in other parts of the country with interest.   But Hedlin also points to simple fixes hospital staff can make, such as returning patients' hearing aids and glasses, and ensuring older patients get a good night's sleep after surgery. "Just returning people to as normal a situation as possible is really quite helpful for reorienting them in that post-operative period," he said.

In this episode, medical student and researcher Vaidehee Lanke shares what large provincial datasets reveal about opioid use disorder, maternal mental health, and pregnancy. Armed with data, she hopes better support —before, during, and after birth—can change outcomes for mothers and babies.   Lanke spent her summer working with epidemiologist Dr. Nadeem Muhajarine and the Saskatchewan Population Health and Evaluation Research Unit on a pan-Canadian project tracking opioid use in perinatal populations across five provinces. "The question we set out to answer was: What is the association between opioid use disorder and perinatal mental health conditions?" Lanke said. Opioids in excess are linked to maternal death, stillbirth, and poor fetal growth.   Using hospital discharge records, ambulatory care data, and physicians' billing data from 2016-2024, Muhajarine's team is assembling a provincial cohort of pregnant patients to study when, and how often opioid use disorder and mental health challenges collide.   "It's like that critical thinking piece, like how to look at massive amounts of data and make sense of it," said Lanke, who earned her masters in epidemiology at McGill before returning home to Saskatoon to attend medical school.\ "Sometimes [with code] you're poring over it, and it's like that little comma or like, you know, semi colon, that makes all that difference."   Lanke calls strong public health the 'backbone' of medicine. She sees computational biology as a way to pinpoint when and where to intervene more effectively with high-risk mothers and infants. "This was a dream project for me, because it brought together all my different worlds," she said.

As a student, Jack Walther's friends often came to him when they needed a listening ear, or help with relationship struggles. This summer, Walther took his fascination with the brain and mood disorders to Dr. Darrell Mousseau's psychiatry laboratory, learning to untangle some of the tiny molecular threads that might explain why depression so often shows up alongside dementia. Walther and the research team dug into the physical interactions between serotonin and the beta amyloid peptides that build up in patients with Alzheimer's disease. . He admits going from the classroom to the laboratory felt like a sharp learning curve. "It was totally different," he said. "It's daunting once you get onto it, but once you get going, it makes a lot more sense and you feel way more comfortable." Using human embryonic kidney cells, Walther and lab staff used cross-linking chemicals to literally 'catch' proteins interacting.  In this episode, Walther recalls the day Mousseau hustled into the lab, results in hand. "I could see the excitement in his face and it just made kind of the lab buzz a little," said Walther. "We found there is actually some kind of physical interaction between these beta amyloids and the serotonin receptor." Mousseau's laboratory is narrowing down biochemical events common to depression and Alzheimer's disease, looking for modifiable targets in the depressed brain that could slow or delay the onset of the neurodegenerative disorder. Walther said being part of that laboratory work felt 'incredible'. "I want to bring some good into this world," he said. "I would like to focus on people that struggle to help themselves. Whether that's neurodegenerative or it's people that are just stuck in place and don't know what to do." He aims to earn his honours degree in neuroscience, then keep pressing on. "Whichever way that takes me, that's when I'll be happy with what I've accomplished," Walther said.

Eve Simpson knows from experience scientific research doesn't always follow a linear path. In the first of three student research episodes, the fourth-year biochemistry, microbiology and immunology student looks back at a summer spent decoding Eastern Equine Encephalitis Virus (EEEV) in Dr. Anil Kumar's lab. Simpson said she loved doing bench research, but felt frustrated in the moments where she hit setbacks and moments of doubt. "I felt like I was letting everyone down," she said. "But everyone I spoke to said they'd been through that. It's part of being a researcher. That's what drives us to do better and keep being curious and learning." Simpson realized those failures still tell researchers what doesn't work, and provide data for the greater scientific community. She is now pursuing her honours degree, and plans to return to Kumar's laboratory as she looks at graduate studies, driven by curiosity and a commitment to public health. "I want to do better. I want my research to help people and I want to do better for the world," she said.

Jessica Sheldon (PhD) is on a mission to starve out Acinetobacter baumannii —one of the world's most virulent hospital-borne pathogens. Notorious for its speedy evolution and multi-drug resistance, the hospital-borne bacteria lingers on dry surfaces and infects critically-ill patients, leading to sepsis, pneumonia and high mortality rates. In this episode, Sheldon delves into the real-life events that drove her to investigate histamine, and its role in bacterial survival and immune response. In 2022, Sheldon joined the University of Saskatchewan's College of Medicine as an assistant professor of Biochemistry, Microbiology & Immunology -- something she now laughs about after an ill-fated high school placement in an immunology laboratory. "Cytokine cascades, pathways, the signaling just got way over my head real fast," said Sheldon. "I didn't really know what I was doing." Sheldon enrolled at Lakehead University, drawn to the tiny pathogens with outsized roles in movies like Outbreak. She estimates she read the book The Hot Zone 20 times. Her persistence paid off. "One of my second year microbiology teachers said, 'you know, I think you're kind of good at this. Maybe you should try it as a career.' Sheldon zeroed in on metals and wrote her doctoral dissertation on the role iron plays in the proliferation of bacteria such as Methicillin-resistant staphylococcus aureus (MRSA). Today, she studies both Morganella morganii and Acinetobacter baumannii —  the multi-drug-resistant bacteria singled out twice in the last decade by the World Health Organization as a 'priority 1-critical pathogen'. "I'm perpetually fascinated by the idea that something so small can change the course of history," said Sheldon. "And we've seen that recently with COVID." Sheldon was already studying the metal uptake and signalling systems that grow and sustain A. baumannii when the bacteria ripped through hospitals during the pandemic, attacking Covid-infected patients on ventilators. By 2023, Sheldon landed a five-year CIHR grant of $900,000 to study A. Baumannii and the way it turns histidine into histamine. Her goal is to pinpoint the way the pathogen uses histamine to evade its host, as it sends out siderophores to steal iron and other nutrients. The compound appears to serve as a signalling mechanism for both the host and the invading pathogen, she said. "We know the bacteria are using histamine in the synthesis of these molecules to get iron, but they're also secreting it into the environment. We're not really sure why," Sheldon said. Her laboratory is working to trace and target those pathways, so researchers can identify and potentially develop new treatments — small molecules or antibody inhibitors that could disrupt multi-drug resistant pathogens. Beyond A. baumannii, histamine may hold the key to how some of the world's most notorious bacteria grow, spread, and evade immune defences, Sheldon said. "We're running out of drugs, but there's really not a full appreciation for the fact that we're losing the ability to treat bacterial infections," Sheldon said.  "We need to develop supplementary therapies or alternative therapies."

Kirk Haan graduated from high school, thinking he'd study pharmacy at the University of Saskatchewan, and walk out five years later. After one summer at a pharmacy, Haan realized he was after a more 'hands-on' career in medicine. "I've kind of worked with my hands my whole life, just between rummaging around on a farm and always kind of building things," he said.  "Now it's using them to help people in a direct way." Then, Haan found his passion — inside the laboratory. In 2018, Haan landed a summer position in Dr. Thomas Fisher's lab, studying osmoregulation — the mechanisms that govern our bodies' salt and fluid intake and output. He never looked back.  By the time he entered medical school, Haan had completed two summer research projects, his honours degree, and his master's thesis in osmoregulation, all under Dr. Fisher's supervision. "He was a really good role model," Haan said, noting he returned to Fisher's lab for up to 30 hours a week during his first and second year of medical school.  Haan is set to resume his work at medical school next summer, after he's completed his PhD.  Until then, he and Fisher are unravelling mechanisms involved with Synaptotagmin-11, and later Endophilin-A1, proteins associated with keeping the body's fluid-salt balance in check. Changes in those complexes are often seen in patients with neurodegenerative conditions, such as Parkinson's, ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) and Alzheimer's disease. Dehydration and fluid imbalances also become more common as patients age. Haan calls this "low-hanging fruit" when patients arrive at Emergency Departments, worried about pharmaceutical interactions. "The more drugs you take, the more likely you are to have a drug interaction that causes a perturbation in this system," said Haan. He believes Synaptotagmin-11 and Endophilin-A1 may play "a massive role" in the long-term regulation of our body fluids. Haan also credits his wife — who just entered medical school with her own PhD — and an "incredible community" of friends in Saskatoon for their support during his decades-long journey through two academic worlds. Although they will likely have to leave Saskatchewan to pursue his residency as an ear, nose and throat surgeon, Haan said the plan is to return. "With some of the things that I've learned and my passion for blending this basic science with clinical medicine, maybe somewhere down the line we find something that's really cool that can really help people," he said.

Sébastien Gauvrit (PhD) was only ten when his family let him have his first tank of guppies. Within weeks, he was hooked. "I actually had to understand genetics directly by mixing these different fish together to get the colour or fin shape I was interested in," said the vascular biologist and genetic modelling pioneer. From his home in France, to post-doctoral work pioneering new models for vascular disease in Germany, to his current position as an assistant professor of Anatomy, Physiology and Pharmacology at the University of Saskatchewan's College of Medicine —  tropical fish tanks remain a constant in Gauvrit's life.   This year, two grants from the National Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada (NSERC) totalling $340,000 mean Dr. Gauvrit will expand the University of Saskatchewan's zebrafish aquariums — and refine his laboratory's modelling work and research on vascular development.   Zebrafish are transparent in their first hours and days, which allows scientists to watch them forming vascular cells in real time.   "Most genes that trigger vascular disease in humans are present in zebrafish," Gauvrit said, noting they share 70 per cent of of their genes with humans.   Using both fish and rodent models, Gauvrit will do a deeper analysis of the transcription factor HHEX [Hematopoietically Expressed Homeobox], because of its cascading effect on the cells that eventually determine lymphatic health.   "If you understand how this gene regulates others, we can identify new genes involved in lymphatic disease, and understand a bit more the process behind all these events," Gauvrit said. He's also looking at VEGF-A [vascular endothelial growth factor], a gene implicated in vascular diseases, including age-related macular degeneration [AMD]. Right now, patients with blurred vision and an overgrowth of blood vessels are treated with multiple injections to the eye, with the hope of limiting damage. "A high proportion of patients develop resistance against this therapy, which is a big issue," Gauvrit said. "It's also very costly."   Mice die quickly without VEGF-A, but zebrafish without it survive — even thrive. Gauvrit wants to know what processes help zebrafish compensate, and where mammalian cells diverge. Gauvrit said the broader implications of vascular research will have ripple effects in treating lymphedema, strokes, and age-related macular degeneration. "We still discover new things," Gauvrit said. "Just by serendipity and by randomness, sometimes you can find a bit greater science than when you have a very specific question."

Stuart Skinner (MD) knew something was wrong three years ago, when patients started coming to him with vision loss, fever, rashes, and meningitis. Almost every case could be traced back to untreated syphilis — a sexually transmitted infection with caseloads exploding 1,200 per cent from 2017.  Saskatchewan saw this spike just as Covid-19 entered the picture. "With the pandemic, testing dropped dramatically," Skinner said, noting this wave of syphilis entered north-western Saskatchewan from Alberta, often travelling alongside HIV. Syphilis often spreads through sores, and can remain unnoticed for months or years on end, making early detection difficult. "If you don't see it, you won't be seeking care for it."   When the infectious diseases physician and the Wellness Wheel team began treating mothers with severely ill newborns, stillbirths and birth defects, Skinner knew he had to act. Treating syphilis usually means a series of clinic and laboratory appointments, followed by intramuscular Bicillin injections, and intense contact tracing. Instead, Skinner, Dr. Sean Rourke, Cara Spence and their teams pared that down to a one-hour stop. They approached tribal councils and Indigenous-led health organizations, asking for help setting up mobile locations where anyone could be tested, diagnosed, and offered treatment.  Nursing teams drove vans to powwows, festivals, even pharmacies, offering quick, confidential finger-prick tests and results. "The whole concept was to be flexible and mobile and adaptable . . . . so that we weren't the barrier," said Skinner. "It wasn't easy for the nurses to set up and read the results or draw the blood in a less comfortable environment, but they did an amazing job."   In Saskatchewan, a total of 1,797 people agreed to be tested, uptake Skinner calls 'phenomenal'. Roughly three per cent were infected with HIV; 16% had syphilis. "The majority were willing to get treated right then and there," Skinner said. Those teams have now visited more than 50 locations across the prairies, through a $4M national partnership called the 'Ayaangwaamiziwin' Centre — which translates to 'be careful, be prepared' in Anishinaabe. Health officials and private donors recently extended those grants for an additional year. Skinner's colleagues keep fielding requests for the point-of-care service, which in turn has created a network of trusted Indigenous health leaders. This web, he said, could create the backbone of targeted outreach and screening for other diseases, such as diabetes or cancer.   But it only works with mutual respect, he warned. "This isn't going to First Nations just to help them," Skinner said. "I've learned so much from the cultural values that are built on what happens in First Nations. We have a lot to learn." Skinner said mutual respect also means predictable paycheques — not just the odd grant. He said health budgets need to pay for health promotion workers employed at Indigenous-run organizations and non-profits, the ones who stick around after the testing van leaves. Patients are more likely to stay in touch with familiar faces and staff, he said. "It's about respect, kindness, and building trust," he said. "That is really critical."

Yi-Chun Chen (PhD) is taking a close-up look at some of the body's hardest-working cells — the ones often processing an overabundance of modern-day food and nutrients. "From an evolutionary point of view, our cells are not designed to deal with that," said Chen, who joined the department of Anatomy, Physiology, and Pharmacology at the University of Saskatchewan last year as an assistant professor. She said our bodies are pushed into churning out large amounts of insulin rapidly after snacks and meals, "which makes the beta cells work extra hard." Raised in Taiwan and inspired by her grandfather—a retired elementary school science teacher—Chen's fascination with biology first led her to work as a medical laboratory technologist, then to the world of cellular research. Using both rodent and human models, Chen is studying pancreatic beta cells: the way they process peptide hormones like insulin and how their behaviour and function is affected by an excess of nutrients. With high-resolution imaging, she and her team are examining how both humans and mice synthesize, process, and clear peptide hormones. "There are a lot of things we still don't know about peptide hormones, not just in the pancreas, but in the brain, in the gut," she said. "Those are fascinating." Last year, Chen was the recipient of a Canadian Institutes of Health Research Research Excellence, Diversity, and Independence Early Career Transition Award. After moving from UBC to Saskatoon, Dr. Chen said feels considerable support already from her established and mid-career prairie colleagues. "They can mentor us and guide us, and we also have a group of five or six young scientists," she said. "I can envision myself working on many, many interesting projects with them." Her goal today is to identify biomarkers that could predict diabetes far earlier. She hopes to develop biochemical assays that measure proinsulin levels to serve as an early warning system. This could enable interventions months or even years before a traditional diagnosis based on blood glucose levels. "We want to be able to predict the development of, for example, type 1 or type 2 diabetes before they are diagnosed," said Chen. In the long term, Chen envisions both preventative strategies and regenerative therapies to fight diabetes. Stem cell-derived beta cells may be a future solution, she said. "We are making really good progress in Canada, actually. We have clinical trials. We're putting the stem cell–derived beta cells into patients with type 1 diabetes." She hopes this will one day reduce the need for constant insulin injections, even helping curb  obesity. "Don't give up," Chen said. "We are passionate and we want to work on many, many things." "If you like it, keep going."

James Stempien (MD) has navigated some of the most challenging corners of emergency medicine, from the frigid isolation of Inuvik to the bustling corridors of Saskatoon's emergency departments.  His experience in low-tech outposts has shaped his approach to modern emergency care.   "When things aren't going well you see it in the emergency department first," Stempien said. "We're the front door. We're always open."   As provincial department head of emergency medicine, Stempien sees patients on their worst days in hospitals bursting at the seams, struggling to keep pace with Saskatchewan's growing population.   "I worked in emergency last night and we were really busy, hours behind. All the ER docs there and nurses were running our tails off," said Stempien. "We're seeing an increase in acuity."   Stempien said the patients he sees now come in with serious medical concerns, which cannot be written off as minor ailments.   One in five emergency patients in Saskatoon requires hospitalization. Amid frequent congestion, Stempien says some find themselves on stretchers in the hallway, even in former linen closets, waiting to move upstairs to an acute care bed.   He said while a plan to open 109 more acute care beds at Saskatoon City Hospital 'will make a big difference', he and his staff are concerned overcrowding jeopardizes patients in the waiting room, leading to moral injury and burnout.   Stempien is determined to free up space inside his department. He's also led numerous innovations aimed at streamlining emergency medicine, including a recent move to send patients their discharge instructions via text message.   "They can access it as many times as they want. They're not going to lose the piece of paper on the way to the parking lot," said Stempien.   Stempien, 67, said he still loves the job, in part thanks to the team atmosphere, and also because his patients are still full of surprises.   "Many things I've seen thousands of times, but every now and then you run across something and you think, wow, I've never seen that," he said.   "That's what makes emergency medicine interesting. And fun."