Charles McClung

I've heard the statement, “Medicine is my life!” from students and colleagues many times during my career as a family practitioner.

I love medicine, the patients I care for, and the science that makes it possible to use modern technology to create or even extend a better life for my patients. Medicine is my passion and, at times, even my obsession. However, medicine is not my life.

After office hours, I engage myself with my family, religion, friends, and by serving as a scuba diving instructor certified by the Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI). These aspects of my life—along with being a physician—make me feel like a complete person. I find it important to remind aspiring physicians rotating with me that they will need to find a balance in order to keep their passion for medicine burning long and bright.

I discovered scuba diving several years ago, at the age of 46 years, when a neighbor invited me to participate in a beginner's class he was teaching. From the moment I stepped in and placed the regulator in my mouth to take my first breath underwater, I knew I was hooked. I had found something that I loved almost as much a being a doctor.

Bonding Through Scuba

I was so excited that I drove my family to frustration talking about how amazing the sport was and how proud I was to have actually completed my certification. So excited, in fact, I continued on to the advanced class, and then to the rescue, wreck diving, dry suit, nitrox, and other classes. My health started to improve, as did my quality of life.

My son, Scott, was stationed with the Army in Florida and became a certified diver while there. We immediately bonded in a way that we never had before. Together we traveled to Belize, braved the ocean and, 10 long days later, we came home as proud dive masters. We went diving every chance we got.

West Virginia lacks an abundance of open water areas so we saved and planned annual trips to places like Cozumel, Mexico, and Curacao in the Netherlands Antilles. Unfortunately, our dive team was about to be put through the test of separation. Enter Operation Iraqi Freedom.

On Father's Day 2004, I watched Scott and the 756th EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) Company leave for Baghdad. It would be a year before I would see Scott again and my heart was broken. As tears streamed down my face, I had no idea how my son would survive the trials of war as a bomb specialist. I had no idea how I would survive his absence.

The answer came with his second e-mail home. We talked diving. Our e-mails consisted of new diving technologies and equipment, dive plans, dive sites, and planned trips. My son-in-law joined the effort and became certified. Instead of fearing the worst, we all were able to focus on a positive plan to dive when, not if, Scott came home.

Scott did indeed come home. We celebrated by taking a dive trip to Cozumel. He married a lovely young lady and, just a few months later, his unit deployed back to Iraq. We began another year of e-mail exchanges filled with discussions of diving, anything to help Scott focus on the future.

My wife became certified in scuba diving, as did our daughter. We even got matching shark and dolphin tattoos.

I became an instructor and started teaching classes for area youth. We focused on the positive and saturated Scott with our diving news.

Dive Company for Soldiers

Scott once again returned home safely, and we enjoy diving together every chance we get. There is no way to describe the peaceful feeling that comes when you are floating 60 feet underwater with your family. The amazing world of water and sea life gives us perspective on what life is all about. It has kept my family focused on the good when we could have focused on the bad.

Scott is currently taking the instructor's course, our daughter and son-in-law will soon be dive masters, and we have formed a small dive company.

With war comes after effects. Many of our young service men and women suffer from physical injuries such as amputations and limited mobility.

The goal of our dive company is to provide instruction to such heroes so they may enjoy the freedom of movement that scuba diving provides.

Far too many returning veterans, including Scott, suffer from posttraumatic stress disorder. This disorder can make everyday life difficult, and the need for something positive to focus on is great. These veterans need to feel at peace with their present and past. Although I am not a mental health provider, I consider my son's opinions to be valid. Diving puts him at peace and lets his mind rest. He can focus on the positive and leave the memories of war behind.

Dr. Charles McClung (left) and son Scott formed a small dive company for returning war veterans.

Source COURTESY DR. CHARLES MCCLUNG

I've heard the statement, “Medicine is my life!” from students and colleagues many times during my career as a family practitioner.

I love medicine, the patients I care for, and the science that makes it possible to use modern technology to create or even extend a better life for my patients. Medicine is my passion and, at times, even my obsession. However, medicine is not my life.

After office hours, I engage myself with my family, religion, friends, and by serving as a scuba diving instructor certified by the Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI). These aspects of my life—along with being a physician—make me feel like a complete person. I find it important to remind aspiring physicians rotating with me that they will need to find a balance in order to keep their passion for medicine burning long and bright.

I discovered scuba diving several years ago, at the age of 46 years, when a neighbor invited me to participate in a beginner's class he was teaching. From the moment I stepped in and placed the regulator in my mouth to take my first breath underwater, I knew I was hooked. I had found something that I loved almost as much a being a doctor.

Bonding Through Scuba

I was so excited that I drove my family to frustration talking about how amazing the sport was and how proud I was to have actually completed my certification. So excited, in fact, I continued on to the advanced class, and then to the rescue, wreck diving, dry suit, nitrox, and other classes. My health started to improve, as did my quality of life.

My son, Scott, was stationed with the Army in Florida and became a certified diver while there. We immediately bonded in a way that we never had before. Together we traveled to Belize, braved the ocean and, 10 long days later, we came home as proud dive masters. We went diving every chance we got.

West Virginia lacks an abundance of open water areas so we saved and planned annual trips to places like Cozumel, Mexico, and Curacao in the Netherlands Antilles. Unfortunately, our dive team was about to be put through the test of separation. Enter Operation Iraqi Freedom.

On Father's Day 2004, I watched Scott and the 756th EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) Company leave for Baghdad. It would be a year before I would see Scott again and my heart was broken. As tears streamed down my face, I had no idea how my son would survive the trials of war as a bomb specialist. I had no idea how I would survive his absence.

The answer came with his second e-mail home. We talked diving. Our e-mails consisted of new diving technologies and equipment, dive plans, dive sites, and planned trips. My son-in-law joined the effort and became certified. Instead of fearing the worst, we all were able to focus on a positive plan to dive when, not if, Scott came home.

Scott did indeed come home. We celebrated by taking a dive trip to Cozumel. He married a lovely young lady and, just a few months later, his unit deployed back to Iraq. We began another year of e-mail exchanges filled with discussions of diving, anything to help Scott focus on the future.

My wife became certified in scuba diving, as did our daughter. We even got matching shark and dolphin tattoos.

I became an instructor and started teaching classes for area youth. We focused on the positive and saturated Scott with our diving news.

Dive Company for Soldiers

Scott once again returned home safely, and we enjoy diving together every chance we get. There is no way to describe the peaceful feeling that comes when you are floating 60 feet underwater with your family. The amazing world of water and sea life gives us perspective on what life is all about. It has kept my family focused on the good when we could have focused on the bad.

Scott is currently taking the instructor's course, our daughter and son-in-law will soon be dive masters, and we have formed a small dive company.

With war comes after effects. Many of our young service men and women suffer from physical injuries such as amputations and limited mobility.

The goal of our dive company is to provide instruction to such heroes so they may enjoy the freedom of movement that scuba diving provides.

Far too many returning veterans, including Scott, suffer from posttraumatic stress disorder. This disorder can make everyday life difficult, and the need for something positive to focus on is great. These veterans need to feel at peace with their present and past. Although I am not a mental health provider, I consider my son's opinions to be valid. Diving puts him at peace and lets his mind rest. He can focus on the positive and leave the memories of war behind.

Dr. Charles McClung (left) and son Scott formed a small dive company for returning war veterans.

Source COURTESY DR. CHARLES MCCLUNG

I've heard the statement, “Medicine is my life!” from students and colleagues many times during my career as a family practitioner.

I love medicine, the patients I care for, and the science that makes it possible to use modern technology to create or even extend a better life for my patients. Medicine is my passion and, at times, even my obsession. However, medicine is not my life.

After office hours, I engage myself with my family, religion, friends, and by serving as a scuba diving instructor certified by the Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI). These aspects of my life—along with being a physician—make me feel like a complete person. I find it important to remind aspiring physicians rotating with me that they will need to find a balance in order to keep their passion for medicine burning long and bright.

I discovered scuba diving several years ago, at the age of 46 years, when a neighbor invited me to participate in a beginner's class he was teaching. From the moment I stepped in and placed the regulator in my mouth to take my first breath underwater, I knew I was hooked. I had found something that I loved almost as much a being a doctor.

Bonding Through Scuba

I was so excited that I drove my family to frustration talking about how amazing the sport was and how proud I was to have actually completed my certification. So excited, in fact, I continued on to the advanced class, and then to the rescue, wreck diving, dry suit, nitrox, and other classes. My health started to improve, as did my quality of life.

My son, Scott, was stationed with the Army in Florida and became a certified diver while there. We immediately bonded in a way that we never had before. Together we traveled to Belize, braved the ocean and, 10 long days later, we came home as proud dive masters. We went diving every chance we got.

West Virginia lacks an abundance of open water areas so we saved and planned annual trips to places like Cozumel, Mexico, and Curacao in the Netherlands Antilles. Unfortunately, our dive team was about to be put through the test of separation. Enter Operation Iraqi Freedom.

On Father's Day 2004, I watched Scott and the 756th EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) Company leave for Baghdad. It would be a year before I would see Scott again and my heart was broken. As tears streamed down my face, I had no idea how my son would survive the trials of war as a bomb specialist. I had no idea how I would survive his absence.

The answer came with his second e-mail home. We talked diving. Our e-mails consisted of new diving technologies and equipment, dive plans, dive sites, and planned trips. My son-in-law joined the effort and became certified. Instead of fearing the worst, we all were able to focus on a positive plan to dive when, not if, Scott came home.

Scott did indeed come home. We celebrated by taking a dive trip to Cozumel. He married a lovely young lady and, just a few months later, his unit deployed back to Iraq. We began another year of e-mail exchanges filled with discussions of diving, anything to help Scott focus on the future.

My wife became certified in scuba diving, as did our daughter. We even got matching shark and dolphin tattoos.

I became an instructor and started teaching classes for area youth. We focused on the positive and saturated Scott with our diving news.

Dive Company for Soldiers

Scott once again returned home safely, and we enjoy diving together every chance we get. There is no way to describe the peaceful feeling that comes when you are floating 60 feet underwater with your family. The amazing world of water and sea life gives us perspective on what life is all about. It has kept my family focused on the good when we could have focused on the bad.

Scott is currently taking the instructor's course, our daughter and son-in-law will soon be dive masters, and we have formed a small dive company.

With war comes after effects. Many of our young service men and women suffer from physical injuries such as amputations and limited mobility.

The goal of our dive company is to provide instruction to such heroes so they may enjoy the freedom of movement that scuba diving provides.

Far too many returning veterans, including Scott, suffer from posttraumatic stress disorder. This disorder can make everyday life difficult, and the need for something positive to focus on is great. These veterans need to feel at peace with their present and past. Although I am not a mental health provider, I consider my son's opinions to be valid. Diving puts him at peace and lets his mind rest. He can focus on the positive and leave the memories of war behind.

Dr. Charles McClung (left) and son Scott formed a small dive company for returning war veterans.

Source COURTESY DR. CHARLES MCCLUNG

DR. MCCLUNG practices family medicine in Lewisburg, West Virginia.

I've heard the statement, "Medicine is my life!" from students and colleagues many times during my career as a family practitioner.

I love medicine, the patients I care for, and the science that makes it possible to use modern technology to create or even extend a better life for my patients. Medicine is my passion and, at times, even my obsession. However, medicine is not my life. After office hours, I engage myself with my family, religion, friends, and by serving as a scuba diving instructor certified by the Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI). These aspects of my life—along with being a physician—make me feel like a complete person. I find it important to remind aspiring physicians rotating with me that they will need to find a balance in order to keep their passion for medicine burning long and bright.

I discovered scuba diving several years ago when a neighbor invited me to participate in a beginner's class he was teaching. I had been very lackadaisical about my health and, at the age of 46 years, I was not as thin or as healthy as I should have been. Having never been particularly interested in sports, I wasn't especially excited about jumping into a cold pool and trying to breathe underwater.

But from the moment I stepped in and placed the regulator in my mouth to take my first breath underwater, I knew I was hooked. I had found something that I loved almost as much a being a doctor.

Bonding Through Scuba

I was so excited that I drove my family to frustration talking about how amazing the sport was and how proud I was to have actually completed my certification. So excited, in fact, I continued on to the advanced class, and then to the rescue, wreck diving, dry suit, nitrox, and other classes. My health started to improve, as did my quality of life.

My son, Scott, was stationed with the Army in Florida and became a certified diver while there. We immediately bonded in a way that we never had before. Together we traveled to Belize, braved the ocean and, 10 long days later, we came home as proud dive masters. We went diving every chance we got. My wife, Carol, became our official bubble watcher. She watched us dive in lakes, quarries, springs, and rivers.

West Virginia lacks an abundance of open water areas so we saved and planned annual trips to places like Cozumel, Mexico, and Curacao in the Netherlands Antilles. Unfortunately, our dive team was about to be put through the test of separation. Enter Operation Iraqi Freedom.

On Father's Day 2004, I watched Scott and the 756th EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) Company leave for Baghdad. It would be a year before I would see Scott again and my heart was broken. As tears streamed down my face, I had no idea how my son would survive the trials of war as a bomb specialist. I had no idea how I would survive his absence.

The answer came with his second e-mail home. We talked diving. Our e-mails consisted of new diving technologies and equipment, dive plans, dive sites, and planned trips. My son-in-law joined the effort and became certified. Instead of fearing the worst, we all were able to focus on a positive plan to dive when, not if, Scott came home.

Scott did indeed come home. We celebrated by taking a dive trip to Cozumel. He married and, just a few months later, his unit deployed back to Iraq. We began another year of e-mail exchanges filled with discussions of diving, anything to help Scott focus on the future.

My wife became certified in scuba diving, as did our daughter. We even got matching shark and dolphin tattoos. I became an instructor and started teaching youth classes. We focused on the positive and saturated Scott with our diving news.

Dive Company for Soldiers

Scott once again returned home safely, and we enjoy diving together every chance we get. There is no way to describe the peaceful feeling that comes when you are floating 60 feet underwater with your family. The amazing world of water and sea life gives us perspective on what life is all about. It has kept my family focused on the good when we could have focused on the bad.

Scott is currently taking the instructor's course, our daughter and son-in-law will soon be dive masters, and we have formed a small dive company.

Unfortunately with war comes after effects. Many of our young service men and women suffer from physical injuries such as amputations and limited mobility. The goal of our dive company is to provide instruction to such heroes so they may enjoy the freedom of movement that scuba diving provides.

Far too many returning veterans, including Scott, suffer from posttraumatic stress disorder. This disorder can make everyday life difficult, and the need for something positive to focus on is great. These veterans need to feel at peace with their present and past. Although I am not a mental health provider, I consider my son's opinions to be valid. Diving puts him at peace and lets his mind rest.

Dr. Charles McClung (left) and son Scott formed a small dive company for returning war veterans.

Source Courtesy Dr. Charles McClung

DR. MCCLUNG practices family medicine in Lewisburg, West Virginia.

I've heard the statement, "Medicine is my life!" from students and colleagues many times during my career as a family practitioner.

I love medicine, the patients I care for, and the science that makes it possible to use modern technology to create or even extend a better life for my patients. Medicine is my passion and, at times, even my obsession. However, medicine is not my life. After office hours, I engage myself with my family, religion, friends, and by serving as a scuba diving instructor certified by the Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI). These aspects of my life—along with being a physician—make me feel like a complete person. I find it important to remind aspiring physicians rotating with me that they will need to find a balance in order to keep their passion for medicine burning long and bright.

I discovered scuba diving several years ago when a neighbor invited me to participate in a beginner's class he was teaching. I had been very lackadaisical about my health and, at the age of 46 years, I was not as thin or as healthy as I should have been. Having never been particularly interested in sports, I wasn't especially excited about jumping into a cold pool and trying to breathe underwater.

But from the moment I stepped in and placed the regulator in my mouth to take my first breath underwater, I knew I was hooked. I had found something that I loved almost as much a being a doctor.

Bonding Through Scuba

I was so excited that I drove my family to frustration talking about how amazing the sport was and how proud I was to have actually completed my certification. So excited, in fact, I continued on to the advanced class, and then to the rescue, wreck diving, dry suit, nitrox, and other classes. My health started to improve, as did my quality of life.

My son, Scott, was stationed with the Army in Florida and became a certified diver while there. We immediately bonded in a way that we never had before. Together we traveled to Belize, braved the ocean and, 10 long days later, we came home as proud dive masters. We went diving every chance we got. My wife, Carol, became our official bubble watcher. She watched us dive in lakes, quarries, springs, and rivers.

West Virginia lacks an abundance of open water areas so we saved and planned annual trips to places like Cozumel, Mexico, and Curacao in the Netherlands Antilles. Unfortunately, our dive team was about to be put through the test of separation. Enter Operation Iraqi Freedom.

On Father's Day 2004, I watched Scott and the 756th EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) Company leave for Baghdad. It would be a year before I would see Scott again and my heart was broken. As tears streamed down my face, I had no idea how my son would survive the trials of war as a bomb specialist. I had no idea how I would survive his absence.

The answer came with his second e-mail home. We talked diving. Our e-mails consisted of new diving technologies and equipment, dive plans, dive sites, and planned trips. My son-in-law joined the effort and became certified. Instead of fearing the worst, we all were able to focus on a positive plan to dive when, not if, Scott came home.

Scott did indeed come home. We celebrated by taking a dive trip to Cozumel. He married and, just a few months later, his unit deployed back to Iraq. We began another year of e-mail exchanges filled with discussions of diving, anything to help Scott focus on the future.

My wife became certified in scuba diving, as did our daughter. We even got matching shark and dolphin tattoos. I became an instructor and started teaching youth classes. We focused on the positive and saturated Scott with our diving news.

Dive Company for Soldiers

Scott once again returned home safely, and we enjoy diving together every chance we get. There is no way to describe the peaceful feeling that comes when you are floating 60 feet underwater with your family. The amazing world of water and sea life gives us perspective on what life is all about. It has kept my family focused on the good when we could have focused on the bad.

Scott is currently taking the instructor's course, our daughter and son-in-law will soon be dive masters, and we have formed a small dive company.

Unfortunately with war comes after effects. Many of our young service men and women suffer from physical injuries such as amputations and limited mobility. The goal of our dive company is to provide instruction to such heroes so they may enjoy the freedom of movement that scuba diving provides.

Far too many returning veterans, including Scott, suffer from posttraumatic stress disorder. This disorder can make everyday life difficult, and the need for something positive to focus on is great. These veterans need to feel at peace with their present and past. Although I am not a mental health provider, I consider my son's opinions to be valid. Diving puts him at peace and lets his mind rest.

Dr. Charles McClung (left) and son Scott formed a small dive company for returning war veterans.

Source Courtesy Dr. Charles McClung

DR. MCCLUNG practices family medicine in Lewisburg, West Virginia.

I've heard the statement, "Medicine is my life!" from students and colleagues many times during my career as a family practitioner.

I love medicine, the patients I care for, and the science that makes it possible to use modern technology to create or even extend a better life for my patients. Medicine is my passion and, at times, even my obsession. However, medicine is not my life. After office hours, I engage myself with my family, religion, friends, and by serving as a scuba diving instructor certified by the Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI). These aspects of my life—along with being a physician—make me feel like a complete person. I find it important to remind aspiring physicians rotating with me that they will need to find a balance in order to keep their passion for medicine burning long and bright.

I discovered scuba diving several years ago when a neighbor invited me to participate in a beginner's class he was teaching. I had been very lackadaisical about my health and, at the age of 46 years, I was not as thin or as healthy as I should have been. Having never been particularly interested in sports, I wasn't especially excited about jumping into a cold pool and trying to breathe underwater.

But from the moment I stepped in and placed the regulator in my mouth to take my first breath underwater, I knew I was hooked. I had found something that I loved almost as much a being a doctor.

Bonding Through Scuba

I was so excited that I drove my family to frustration talking about how amazing the sport was and how proud I was to have actually completed my certification. So excited, in fact, I continued on to the advanced class, and then to the rescue, wreck diving, dry suit, nitrox, and other classes. My health started to improve, as did my quality of life.

My son, Scott, was stationed with the Army in Florida and became a certified diver while there. We immediately bonded in a way that we never had before. Together we traveled to Belize, braved the ocean and, 10 long days later, we came home as proud dive masters. We went diving every chance we got. My wife, Carol, became our official bubble watcher. She watched us dive in lakes, quarries, springs, and rivers.

West Virginia lacks an abundance of open water areas so we saved and planned annual trips to places like Cozumel, Mexico, and Curacao in the Netherlands Antilles. Unfortunately, our dive team was about to be put through the test of separation. Enter Operation Iraqi Freedom.

On Father's Day 2004, I watched Scott and the 756th EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) Company leave for Baghdad. It would be a year before I would see Scott again and my heart was broken. As tears streamed down my face, I had no idea how my son would survive the trials of war as a bomb specialist. I had no idea how I would survive his absence.

The answer came with his second e-mail home. We talked diving. Our e-mails consisted of new diving technologies and equipment, dive plans, dive sites, and planned trips. My son-in-law joined the effort and became certified. Instead of fearing the worst, we all were able to focus on a positive plan to dive when, not if, Scott came home.

Scott did indeed come home. We celebrated by taking a dive trip to Cozumel. He married and, just a few months later, his unit deployed back to Iraq. We began another year of e-mail exchanges filled with discussions of diving, anything to help Scott focus on the future.

My wife became certified in scuba diving, as did our daughter. We even got matching shark and dolphin tattoos. I became an instructor and started teaching youth classes. We focused on the positive and saturated Scott with our diving news.

Dive Company for Soldiers

Scott once again returned home safely, and we enjoy diving together every chance we get. There is no way to describe the peaceful feeling that comes when you are floating 60 feet underwater with your family. The amazing world of water and sea life gives us perspective on what life is all about. It has kept my family focused on the good when we could have focused on the bad.

Scott is currently taking the instructor's course, our daughter and son-in-law will soon be dive masters, and we have formed a small dive company.

Unfortunately with war comes after effects. Many of our young service men and women suffer from physical injuries such as amputations and limited mobility. The goal of our dive company is to provide instruction to such heroes so they may enjoy the freedom of movement that scuba diving provides.

Far too many returning veterans, including Scott, suffer from posttraumatic stress disorder. This disorder can make everyday life difficult, and the need for something positive to focus on is great. These veterans need to feel at peace with their present and past. Although I am not a mental health provider, I consider my son's opinions to be valid. Diving puts him at peace and lets his mind rest.

Dr. Charles McClung (left) and son Scott formed a small dive company for returning war veterans.

Source Courtesy Dr. Charles McClung