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Dr. Paige Armstrong ’02
When Paige Armstrong ’02 finished medical school, she chose emergency medicine. She enjoyed the intensity of the emergency room, and she valued what she could do for patients there. As she puts it, “People are having the worst day in their life, and I am helping them through that.”
But just five years after finishing residency, she spends only a small fraction of her time attending to patients’ everyday emergencies. Rather, as an epidemiologist, she is helping to manage one gigantic emergency: the outbreak of Covid-19.
Now Armstrong spends 18-hour days addressing the pandemic. In March, she did weeks of field work in Georgia, identifying people sick with the virus and helping separate them from healthy people. After spending a fortnight in quarantine, she’s waiting for her next assignment.
Armstrong learned how to track and contain diseases—to become a “disease detective”—during a fellowship with the elite Epidemic Intelligence Service. Now she’s a lieutenant commander in the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, one of 6,600 officers who respond to outbreaks and disasters in the U.S. and abroad.
Tracking the spread of Covid-19 was simpler when the epidemic first surfaced in the United States, Armstrong says. Cases were traceable to travelers recently arrived from China or Europe. But once the virus began to move among people who hadn’t left town—as it spread within communities—a person’s travel history was no longer relevant. At this point, says Armstrong, “we have to treat everyone as though they are infected with virus.”
Armstrong expects to be deployed again soon, to someplace where the outbreak has intensified. Armstrong’s use of the word “deployed” reflects the fact that the Commissioned Corps is a “uniformed service,” one of seven. The others are the five branches of the military and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
Until Covid-19 meant “all hands on deck” for the Commissioned Corps, Armstrong led an epidemiology team investigating tick-borne bacterial diseases. The ones she studies include ehrlichiosis, anaplasmosis, Rocky Mountain spotted fever, “and a host of others” (but not Lyme, named for a Connecticut town). Non-tick assignments for Armstrong have included research on Zika virus in Puerto Rico; working with immigrants along the Texas-Mexico border; and expediting medical care access after hurricanes hit the Virgin Islands and Puerto Rico. She speaks fluent Spanish.
Armstrong’s father introduced her to emergency response. He volunteers as an EMT and firefighter in her hometown of Redding. When Armstrong was growing up, her father’s avocation was visible in the Armstrong household: David Armstrong would rush out to answer calls “every single night, every single dinner party, every single holiday.”
During her four years at Hopkins School, Armstrong gravitated toward math and science. As a student at Johns Hopkins University, she joined the new public health major, then earned a master’s in health science. She earned her medical degree at the University of Connecticut, graduating in 2011.
Armstrong still works shifts in the hospital, to keep her clinical skills current. She knows first-hand the pressure of rapidly assessing whether a patient has Covid-19. She’s seen patient-care protocols shift quickly as knowledge about the disease accumulates. She has watched as hospitals sought ways to keep staff safe. “If a provider gets sick, they’re not doing much to help anyone else, and there’s always the potential of their spreading it to someone else,” says Armstrong. “You’re learning things literally by the minute, and trying to adjust to keep everyone as safe as possible.” For instance, because of the scarcity of gowns and masks, doctors and other staff members now minimize how often they leave and re-enter a patient’s room; each entry requires new gear.
Armstrong says she found her way to public health by addressing two persistent questions: “I kept coming back to ‘how can I impact the most people? How can I make the most sustainable, far-reaching change?’ ”
Immersed in this crisis, Armstrong notices patterns common to all the public health emergencies she has witnessed. “There are many more similarities than there are differences, and many similar challenges,” she says. “If we pay attention, we can get a head start in controlling the next outbreak, the next disaster.”
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But just five years after finishing residency, she spends only a small fraction of her time attending to patients’ everyday emergencies. Rather, as an epidemiologist, she is helping to manage one gigantic emergency: the outbreak of Covid-19.
Now Armstrong spends 18-hour days addressing the pandemic. In March, she did weeks of field work in Georgia, identifying people sick with the virus and helping separate them from healthy people. After spending a fortnight in quarantine, she’s waiting for her next assignment.
Armstrong learned how to track and contain diseases—to become a “disease detective”—during a fellowship with the elite Epidemic Intelligence Service. Now she’s a lieutenant commander in the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, one of 6,600 officers who respond to outbreaks and disasters in the U.S. and abroad.
Tracking the spread of Covid-19 was simpler when the epidemic first surfaced in the United States, Armstrong says. Cases were traceable to travelers recently arrived from China or Europe. But once the virus began to move among people who hadn’t left town—as it spread within communities—a person’s travel history was no longer relevant. At this point, says Armstrong, “we have to treat everyone as though they are infected with virus.”
Armstrong expects to be deployed again soon, to someplace where the outbreak has intensified. Armstrong’s use of the word “deployed” reflects the fact that the Commissioned Corps is a “uniformed service,” one of seven. The others are the five branches of the military and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
Until Covid-19 meant “all hands on deck” for the Commissioned Corps, Armstrong led an epidemiology team investigating tick-borne bacterial diseases. The ones she studies include ehrlichiosis, anaplasmosis, Rocky Mountain spotted fever, “and a host of others” (but not Lyme, named for a Connecticut town). Non-tick assignments for Armstrong have included research on Zika virus in Puerto Rico; working with immigrants along the Texas-Mexico border; and expediting medical care access after hurricanes hit the Virgin Islands and Puerto Rico. She speaks fluent Spanish.
Armstrong’s father introduced her to emergency response. He volunteers as an EMT and firefighter in her hometown of Redding. When Armstrong was growing up, her father’s avocation was visible in the Armstrong household: David Armstrong would rush out to answer calls “every single night, every single dinner party, every single holiday.”
During her four years at Hopkins School, Armstrong gravitated toward math and science. As a student at Johns Hopkins University, she joined the new public health major, then earned a master’s in health science. She earned her medical degree at the University of Connecticut, graduating in 2011.
Armstrong still works shifts in the hospital, to keep her clinical skills current. She knows first-hand the pressure of rapidly assessing whether a patient has Covid-19. She’s seen patient-care protocols shift quickly as knowledge about the disease accumulates. She has watched as hospitals sought ways to keep staff safe. “If a provider gets sick, they’re not doing much to help anyone else, and there’s always the potential of their spreading it to someone else,” says Armstrong. “You’re learning things literally by the minute, and trying to adjust to keep everyone as safe as possible.” For instance, because of the scarcity of gowns and masks, doctors and other staff members now minimize how often they leave and re-enter a patient’s room; each entry requires new gear.
Armstrong says she found her way to public health by addressing two persistent questions: “I kept coming back to ‘how can I impact the most people? How can I make the most sustainable, far-reaching change?’ ”
Immersed in this crisis, Armstrong notices patterns common to all the public health emergencies she has witnessed. “There are many more similarities than there are differences, and many similar challenges,” she says. “If we pay attention, we can get a head start in controlling the next outbreak, the next disaster.”
Hopkins is a private middle school and high school for grades 7-12. Located on a campus overlooking New Haven, CT, the School takes pride in its intellectually curious students as well as its dedicated faculty and staff.
Hopkins School admits students of any race, color, national and ethnic origin to all the rights, privileges, programs, and activities generally accorded or made available to students at the school. It does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, national and ethnic origin in administration of its educational policies, admissions policies, scholarship and loan programs, and athletic and other school-administered programs.