College of Medicine

May 21, 2011

A former National Football League star and television’s favorite forensic pathologist livened up the Florida State University College of Medicine’s commencement ceremony – and thrilled the autograph seekers there.

The pathologist was Jan Garavaglia, M.D., star of Discovery Health Channel’s “Dr. G: Medical Examiner.” She is chief medical examiner for Florida District Nine and a clerkship faculty member on the College of Medicine’s Orlando regional campus. Invited by the Class of 2011 to be the graduation speaker, she called her profession the Rodney Dangerfield of the medical world and delighted the audience with tales of stubborn patients, medical dedication and the importance of finding a good fit in whatever you do.

The football player was Derrick Brooks, an All-Pro NFL linebacker and a key player on Florida State’s national-championship football team of 1993. He was in the audience to cheer on one of the graduates, Natasha Spencer, whose journey through medical school was made possible through the support of Brooks’ charitable foundation.

A total of 114 students graduated, though one was unable to attend the ceremony. Dean John Fogarty requested a moment of silence for Zita Magloire, who had been called away because of the death of her sister.

In addition to the students receiving M.D. degrees, 10 Bridge students received their master’s degrees. They now join the Class of 2015 as first-year medical students.

Fogarty praised the Class of 2011 for, among other things, its academic prowess. “You achieved the highest scores of any FSU College of Medicine class on the USMLE Step 1 to date,” he said. “You then went on to have a 17-point gain of scores on Step 2 over Step 1, much greater than the national average, validating the quality of our distributed, community-based model of training.”

Class President Ashley Lucke singled out various groups for praise, including mentors. “We found them and latched on to their knowledge like parasitic sponges,” she said. “… We have secret career crushes on them, hoping we turn out to be even a smidgeon as amazing as they are.”

Among the observations in valedictorian Mark Elliott’s speech was this: “Life as a fourth-year medical student can be summed up in two words: ‘Match Day.’ The stress we encountered during externships, the residency application process and the long hours of travel to interviews was mitigated by the light at the end of the tunnel—graduation!”

Garavaglia seemed genuinely surprised by her invitation.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, why would you invite a forensic pathologist?” she asked. “We deal with the dead. How inspirational and uplifting can a talk by a forensic pathologist be?” By the end of her address, she was indeed inspirational. She noted that each day she walks into a room full of dead people, all of whom were alive the day before. The lesson for her, she said, is that “you should live your life in a state of gratefulness that you are alive, and if you do, you will find purpose in that day and make that day count.”

Everyone in the class signed a framed copy of their group White Coat photo, which the class officers presented to Dr. James Cavanagh in recognition of his unsung but unbeatable efforts to help them become physicians.

 

Below are the commencement speeches.

DR. G: WORKING WITH THE DEAD … AND LOVING IT
Dean Fogarty, faculty, families, friends and, most of all, the 2011 graduating class of Florida State University College of Medicine: Thank you. It is truly an honor that you have invited me to speak to you on this auspicious day.

It is indeed a rare event that a forensic pathologist would be invited to speak at a medical school commencement. Forensic pathologists are the Rodney Dangerfields of medicine. We get no respect. Oh, for Pete’s sake, why would you invite a forensic pathologist? We deal with the dead. How inspirational and uplifting can a talk by a forensic pathologist be?

Thinking about this, I suspect you asked me to come here today and speak because you believe I am a success. I agree; I am successful, but not because of my long-running TV show, which provides me the ability to teach hundreds of thousands of viewers about health and medicine.

I’m certainly not a success because of my position as chief medical examiner, even though I must make decisions that affect people’s lives in a profound way. There are a lot of excellent chief MEs around who never get invited anywhere, much less to give a commencement address.

I consider myself a success because I am one of the happiest people I know. Think about this:

I practice forensic pathology, a field of medicine on the very low end of the physician pay scale, and certainly at the low end of the respect scale. I have been doing essentially the same job for 25 years: working with the dead, which in Florida often means working with the decomposed dead.

I work with grieving families, a sizable percentage of which are also angry, either because they don’t agree with my decision to perform an autopsy on their loved one, or because they don’t agree with my ruling. Even worse, I have to work with hostile lawyers, who love to attack my integrity or intelligence.

But, in spite of all these perceived negatives, I am a success because I love going to work. I love finding the elusive diagnosis and being an honest voice that people can count on. After 25 years, I remain passionate about my job, about finding the cause and manner of death, whether it is the “case of the century” or a homeless fellow found alone and decomposed in the woods.

I love my job and will always care enough to do the best job I can.

How do I, or how does any other physician, keep that enthusiasm up throughout their career? Becoming cynical and burning out is a significant problem today in medicine.

Studies say the majority of physicians, at some point in their careers, will face periods in which they are overwhelmed, drained both emotionally and physically, and even believe their decision to enter medicine was a huge mistake. It certainly happened to me, and I’m lucky it happened early on.

One element for success in medicine that has been recognized in studies is finding an aspect that is a good fit. If you would have asked me at my medical school graduation if there was any chance I would end up as a forensic pathologist, I would have said, “Work with the dead? No way.” I was going into medicine to save people.

But I soon found my internship in internal medicine to be incredibly frustrating. I was OK with the hard work, I enjoyed the responsibility, but I realized nobody would let me save them. They wouldn’t listen to me.
As you well know, many of our patients’ problems are due to poor choices ... smoking, eating too much, too little exercise, medication noncompliance, missed vaccines and more.

An example: They would come into my clinic complaining of a cough. I would prescribe treatment and medication for their cough and counsel them to stop smoking. Next visit they would complain that they were still coughing. I would ask: “Did you try to stop smoking?” “No.” “Did the medication help your cough?” “I didn't get it filled. The line at the pharmacy was too long.”

I was burning out fast; internal medicine wasn't a good fit for me. I even toyed with getting out of the medical field completely.

I had to go back and reconsider: What was it that originally drew me to medicine? I still felt there was no other profession that performed a greater good for our fellow man and society. I still loved using specialized knowledge to solve problems and improve lives. Though internal medicine offers great intellectual challenges and potential rewards, I didn’t like it. Why? In a simplistic way I would say: No one would listen to me.

After consulting with a respected forensic pathologist, I decided that as a forensic pathologist I could still meaningfully contribute to society. I also realized there was a tremendous amount of problem-solving in forensic pathology. Since I was frustrated that no one would listen to me, I would work with patients who didn’t have to listen to me … they were dead.

To my surprise, I was very much discouraged from going into forensic pathology. Physicians I worked with, as well as my family, advised me not to waste my medical education. But I did it anyway; it wasn’t a waste, and I have never regretted it.

Except there was one problem: Before, no one would listen to me, but now no one would talk to me. Working in the morgue, seeing the last chapter of all sorts of different lives, you become an observer of life, and gather great life lessons. This is similar to a career in patient care; you have an intimate view of the best and worst of the human condition.

But I soon found that I had a new problem. I wanted to tell people about the fantastic lessons and stories that I was accumulating, but no one listened. I had a boss at the time who talked to no one; there is a reason some people go into forensic pathology. Sure, I sometimes got to deal with police and lawyers, but they only wanted to know the specific facts relevant to their case.

I would try to tell my first husband these stories. I would come home from work all excited – “I had the most interesting case today” – and would start to tell the story. But he would say, “Stop, I know how it ends. She dies." It was frustrating.

My life changed again when forensics became popular in the ’90s. I had more people wanting to talk to me than I knew what to do with. Novelists, journalists, magazine editors and even TV producers: I worked with many of them. But I soon realized they were all interested in one thing, sensationalizing crime stories.

Eventually, I got a call from Discovery Network. They wanted to do a pilot about a real-life forensic pathologist. I immediately said NO. I knew that all they cared about was crime, and it just isn’t always that interesting. In reality, only about 15 percent of my cases are homicides. About 40 percent are natural, another 40 percent are accidental, with the rest being suicide. I told them I would do the series, but only if they would accurately show what a forensic pathologist really does. To me, the most interesting cases are those that end up in the morgue because of natural disease. I wanted them to show that I am fascinated with everyone’s story, both how they lived and how and why they died.

My career has come full circle. Now, on TV, I tell people about how their bad lifestyle choices, such as never bothering to check their BP, wearing their seatbelts incorrectly, ignoring red-flag symptoms and misusing drugs, can cause them to die. Finally, they are listening to me. Viewers are writing to tell me that I have changed their lives, and sometimes even saved their lives, an unlikely thing to hear for someone who works exclusively with the dead.

Just as with my life, your career in medicine will likely be an uncharted journey. You may have plans, but your final course is unknown. Your life and career will interact in unpredictable ways; practicing medicine will change you.

The awesome responsibility you will soon have, seeing your patients die, realizing you didn’t always make the best decision, being touched by the good you do for people; it will all change you. Just as being a physician and a forensic pathologist has changed me.

Embrace it. Continual change in medicine is a given, within both the ever-expanding knowledge base of medicine and our rapidly evolving systems of practice. With change comes stress, but don't let it wear you down. Try to consistently improve as a physician and as a person. Get involved, and work to help shape the changes that are coming. Change is often hard, and is often cited as a reason for burnout. You can’t do anything about the wind, but you can change your sail.

My pragmatic advice for you is to think about your career choices carefully. Don’t be afraid to change your path if it’s not a good fit. Almost 20 percent of new physicians change direction after their internship. If you find yourself burning out later in your career, think back to what aspect of the field drew you to it, and maximize those aspects. We need good people in medicine. There are infinite ways to practice medicine that benefit society; find one.

There is no question that medicine is a difficult profession. Keeping up-to-date, dealing with overly demanding patients, and losing autonomy are all cited as reasons for burnout. But medicine is also the greatest profession in the world. You are today entering a profession that is like no other. It is truly a privilege to make a career of helping others in such an intimate way.

Our profession affords us enormous rights and responsibilities, as well as being intellectually challenging and emotionally fulfilling. Physicians continue to be greatly appreciated by patients, their families and society at large. You may not always feel it, or be thanked for it, but every day you will make a difference in someone’s life.

When you are having a bad day, and are perhaps feeling underappreciated or, worse yet, feeling like you are not accomplishing anything, I want you to remember that practicing medicine is a team effort. You cannot and will not practice it alone.

Today, you become part of the team that has changed civilization, by increasing life expectancy from 50 years to 80 years just over the past century. Our team has changed diabetes, AIDS and end-stage renal disease from death sentences to chronic illnesses, and developed joint replacement procedures that have freed millions of the elderly from dependence and debility.

You are now part of the team that treats infants with meningitis and fully expects them to survive instead of just watching them die. You need to continually remind yourself of what this world would be like without the practice of modern medicine. Over your career, take joy in little successes, rejoice in clinical triumphs, and forgive yourself when things do not go as you plan. Learn to forgive yourself; no one will ever be the perfect physician.

I want to leave you with one more tip that I have learned from my career. Each day, I walk into a room full of dead people, all of whom were alive the day before. It is a lesson that has kept me happy throughout my career and life: that you should live your life in a state of gratefulness that you are alive, and if you do, you will find purpose in that day and make that day count.

So go forth with gratefulness, purpose, passion and persistence, and you will have a great life and career. God bless you all, and good luck. Thank you.

ASHLEY LUCKE: THE FIVE PEOPLE YOU MEET IN MEDICAL SCHOOL
Hello and thank you to everyone who has come to celebrate this exciting day with us. It means everything to my classmates and me to have you present when we are finally called Doctor for the first time. 

There is a book I read a few years ago called “The Five People You Meet in Heaven,” by Mitch Albom. I found it while packing recently, and it got me thinking about all the people we’ve met in medical school who have crossed our paths for one reason or another.

So I pondered for a bit and came up with what I believe are the five key people we meet in medical school. Of course, we’ve met many more than five; in fact, our class saw over 140,000 patients just in the past year. But if you look back and think about the people who truly influenced our future paths, I think these five are where it’s at. 

The first is someone referred to on “Gray’s Anatomy” as “our person.” The best friend, study partner, spouse, roommate – the person you couldn’t imagine making it through medical school without. We all know who this is – the person we sat next to in 1200, the only person we told our test scores to, the one we called during our nervous breakdown the day before Step 1, and the one we celebrated birthdays, accomplishments and family crises with, and all the ups and downs that came along with being a medical student.

For some this person now shares your last name and there’s a special element to your relationship because you understand each other in a way no one else can. For others, this is our best friend; how did we make it without each other before medical school? 

This is the person we’re determined to keep in touch with, and the one we have been dreading saying goodbye to for weeks because we don’t know how we’ll make it through intern year without them. 

The second person is our mentor. Some of us found them right away as advisors and course instructors who watched us grow from naïve and timid first-year students into inquisitive, clinical problem solvers. For others we found our mentor at the regional campus when a special community physician opened their practice and trusted us to take care of their patients. Regardless, wherever they were hiding, we found them and latched on to their knowledge like parasitic sponges. 

These are the people we asked to edit our sappy personal statements and sent countless emails to at all hours of the night. We asked them to write our letters of recommendation, and to call up an old friend at our favorite residency program to pull a few strings. All the while wondering how we tricked them into thinking we were special. 

We have secret career crushes on them, hoping we turn out to be even a smidgeon as amazing as they are. We quietly wonder if medical students will adore us years from now as we adore them.
To all of the faculty members who have been this imperative person for us, thank you, we will never be able to sufficiently express our gratitude for all you have done. 

The third person is our patient. We first met in the cadaver lab and learned how incredible the ultimate gift actually is. Then as time passed and third-year clinical rotations came, we got a real taste of what being a doctor is like. We experienced joy as we placed brand-new babies in mothers’ arms, and just as deeply felt the pain when a wife told us this morning her husband with Alzheimer’s disease didn’t recognize her for the first time. We felt the frustration of the adolescent who had to learn on her own why insulin is important, and the fear of the patient who came to the ER with what he thought was indigestion and is now awaiting a triple-bypass heart surgery.  

We opened door after door introducing ourselves as a such-and-such-year medical student from FSU ready to receive whatever burden the patient needed us to carry. They told us about their most private concerns and fears, answered all our probing questions and allowed us to examine them head to toe – even though we were complete strangers to them. 

Behind every door was a new story with new emotions and new responsibilities.  Each person affected us in a distinct and unique way that we will remember every time we slip on a white coat. We are also grateful for them, for allowing us a peek inside these exquisitely private and difficult moments, which have been the medium for us to learn from. 

The fourth person we meet in medical school is ourselves. Almost exactly four years ago we sat in the College of Medicine auditorium listening to Dr. Littles welcome us to orientation. We were nervous, eager and curious about what exactly these next four years would entail. The complexity and volume of the subject was our first big wakeup call, but we pushed forward. Many of us look back at second year and its grand finale of Step 1 wondering how in the world we made it through.

And now after completing third and fourth year we wonder: How did we sit at those desks ALL DAY? I would imagine this is what we will feel like after completing residency – asking ourselves, “How did we survive that?” Even more incredible is how much we have gained from all this. 

Dr. Granville would tell us our toolbox is now full, Dr. Jake would say we’re living the dream, and Dr. Ouimet might even go so far as to assume we’ve figured out where free will comes from. However you want to say it, we’ve all changed the way we think, how we react to people’s stories and where we place value. We’re able to see the other side of every situation and able to place our own agendas aside and truly listen to someone – which is very important for when Person Number Five comes. 

The fifth person is actually someone we haven’t met yet, but we think about them every day. They are the ones we thought of while studying pages of textbooks, and they are the reason we chose to stay late each night or see just one more procedure instead of going home. They are our future patients. The average doctor sees 30 patients a day, 5 days a week, 50 weeks out of the year. 

If we practice for 40 years each of us will have nearly 300,000 future patients. And when you account for the 114 of us graduating today, our class has over 34 million patient encounters awaiting us. It’s overwhelming to think about, but we must realize this isn’t a responsibility, it is a privilege. The privilege of having 34 million opportunities to be one of the most influential and life-altering people that patient will meet. 

So here’s to the class of 2011 for making it through and finally becoming doctors, and here’s to all the lives we’re going to change. 

MARK ELLIOTT: BEGINNING A NEW CHAPTER
Congratulations, Class of 2011! When I was preparing for this speech, the advice that was given to me was to “speak from the heart and make it short and sweet.”  I know you are ready to celebrate, so that’s what I am going to do. 

I first want to thank our family and friends for the love, support and encouragement over the last four years. Without you all, none of this could have been possible. During medical school we were faced with many ups and downs, and it was comforting to know that our family and friends had our backs when the going got tough. I encourage each of us to make sure they know how grateful we are.

I also want to thank Dean Fogarty, the administration, faculty and staff for providing us with an outstanding medical education and equipping us with the skills needed for the next chapter in our lives. Recently, the College of Medicine had a site visit from the LCME accreditation survey team. I want to thank everyone involved over the last 18 months for their leadership, hard work and enthusiasm in highlighting how far our medical school has come over the last 10 years and making the survey team believers in our model.

Our student performance, strong board scores and match statistics have proven that the community model works, and we are fortunate to have trained at a program that puts the education of its students first.
The past four years for the Class of 2011 are ones we shall never forget. In anatomy class we were introduced to our “first” patient and an infinite sea of anatomy terms. In the Clinical Learning Center we learned not to be camera-shy while practicing the art of history taking. In pathology we were introduced to hundreds of rare diseases that we might one day have to diagnose.

Twenty-one classes and thousands of multiple-choice questions later, we ventured into our clerkship years. Everything we had learned in the numerous books we had previously read was now put to practice. The challenges we faced with each patient encounter broadened our scope into the medical community and gave us a new sense of purpose and a powerful motivation to learn. The greatest insight that we hoped to obtain from our clerkship years was during a rotation when we acknowledged to ourselves, “This is the type of medicine I want to practice.”

Life as a fourth-year medical student can be summed up in two words: “Match Day.” The stress we encountered during externships, the residency application process and the long hours of travel to interviews was mitigated by the light at the end of the tunnel—graduation! 

During medical school we have been challenged physically, emotionally and financially, but we overcame these obstacles and made it to our goal. 

Today we are physicians about to start residency. As we leave here to begin our respective programs, I encourage each of you to remember the primacy of the patient-physician relationship so that it will not be weakened by the new challenges and stressors we are about to face. The demands of the profession we chose to enter require us to commit to a philosophy of lifelong learning; to nurture intimate relationships of family and to take care of ourselves. The responsibilities and privileges of our profession call us to practice evidence-based medicine to bring healing to the patients who have invited us into their lives. 

In the First Edition of Harrison’s Principles of Internal Medicine, Dr. Tinsley R. Harrison wrote, “No greater opportunity, responsibility, or obligation can fall to the lot of a human being than to become a physician.”
The opportunity we have as physicians to make a profound difference in the lives of people is significant. Therefore, we are obligated to maintain a high standard of professionalism. Our patients will expect it, and our personal goal should be to exceed it.

Today marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of a new one. I believe we can all agree that our four years in the FSU College of Medicine have been filled with challenges, remarkable characters, great story lines, entertaining humor, hard work and even some disappointments. I’ve enjoyed living the chapter covering my time here. I know that I am a better person because of you and this school. 

I hope your future will be jam-packed with amazing success. But most of all, I hope it will be filled with happiness. You have earned this moment and the right to be proud of your accomplishment. Well done, Class of 2011!

DEAN FOGARTY: WE EXPECT GREAT THINGS FROM YOU
Graduates, family members of our graduates, friends, distinguished guests, and faculty: It is my sincere pleasure to welcome you to the Graduation Ceremony for the College of Medicine Class of 2011. This is a very special day for many reasons:

1. The Class of 2011 is the first of our “full enrollment” classes with 114 graduates and reflects the tremendous growth of this first new medical school of the 21st century. As you progressed through your program, you challenged our systems to make sure we could accommodate your larger numbers. You have blessed us with your presence and contributed greatly to our growth and development.

2. You were our senior class and leaders as we celebrated the 10-year anniversary of our establishment by the Florida Legislature in 2000. A wonderful milestone for us, but we have only begun to write the great history of this unique institution.

3. You led your fellow medical students in advancing the curriculum and performing an incredible student self-study for the LCME accreditation site visit. Your leadership was instrumental in helping us to have a superb site visit and preliminary report. We know that you are very tired of filling out surveys but hopefully we’ve been better at responding to your suggestions and improving your program.

4. You are a very strong academic class and achieved the highest scores of any FSU College of Medicine class on the USMLE Step 1 to date. You then went on to have a 17-point gain of scores on Step 2 over Step 1, much greater than the national average, validating the quality of our distributed community-based model of training. In terms of national comparisons, you have excelled and performed above the national means in both your Clinical Knowledge and Clinical Skills examinations.

5. You bless us with your diversity, where you came from, your stories and your aspirations. You have enriched us with your experience and your energy. You have given back tremendously to your communities and your campuses and represented us well on mission trips literally all over the globe.

6. You have matched at outstanding residency programs, and I am hearing great reports from more and more program directors about how good FSU students are. Just last week I had a meeting with a group of residency directors to determine how they could persuade more FSU students to come to their programs.

7. This is also our second class to confer the degree Master of Science in Biomedical Sciences-Bridge to Clinical Medicine upon 10 students. We look forward to welcoming them to the Class of 2015 in 10 days.

Now, I would like to take a moment to acknowledge a few special guests who are here with us today:

• Florida State University President Eric Barron and his wife Molly are here. We are grateful to have a university president who understands and believes in our mission. Thank you, President and Mrs. Barron, for joining us.

• Dr. Charlotte Maguire – one of our earliest advocates and strongest supporters, for whom our Medical Library and Simulation Center are named – is not able to be here with us, but she is with you graduates in spirit.

• Mr. Mark O’Bryant , president and CEO of TMH, and Mrs. Paula Fortunas, president of the TMH Foundation,  are members of the College of Medicine Dean’s Advisory Council and good friends of the College of Medicine.

• Dr. Mike Sweeney, a part-time faculty member of the College of Medicine, a 1975 PIMS graduate and our founding chair of the newly established College of Medicine Alumni Board, is here. Welcome, Dr. Sweeney.
• As far as we know, today is the first time we have had an All-Pro NFL linebacker attend one of our graduation ceremonies. Mr. Derrick Brooks was an all-star performer for Florida State and part of the National Championship team of 1993. This past week he completed his term as a member of the university Board of Trustees. Mr. Brooks – you inspired us with your talents on the football field as a member of the FSU Hall of Fame and in the NFL as a key member of the Super Bowl Champion Tampa Bay Buccaneers. But you saved your greatest work in inspiring young people to follow their dreams and get an education. Through your charitable foundation, you have made it your life’s mission to positively impact the lives of young people in Tampa and beyond. That’s where you first met Natasha Spencer, a graduate and member of the Class of 2011, and provided financial and emotional support that helped her to dare and dream that she could become a physician. You truly are the epitome of the “Uncommon Man” described by Tony Dungy in his wonderful book. Thank you for what you and your foundation are doing for young people.

• I would also like to recognize those of you here today who have given so much of your time, talent and treasure to ensure the success of this wonderful medical school. This year we created a donor wall in our Atrium to recognize the many friends of the college who believed in us and have been so generous.

• And, finally, I want to recognize my wife, Diane, who is here today in between visits to see grandchildren. I am sustained by her love, encouragement, patience and support every day.

To the families and friends of the Class of 2011, thank you all for being here to support your students on their special day. It looks like there are some very large “fan clubs” to join this celebration – enjoy this day!!! Don’t hold back – I know you are proud of them!!

As we complete our 10th-anniversary year and successful LCME self-study and site visit, I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you to all the faculty and staff and to our students, who contributed to the tremendous success we have achieved.

Graduates, as you look back to May 2007 – approximately four years ago – you can remember the day your class arrived on campus. Dr. Ocie Harris welcomed you and provided the guidance for those early years. I enjoyed my first meetings with you in your LCs during your second year, and you provided the “new dean” with very valuable advice and recommendations on what needed to be done. I quoted you often and you were my leverage for needed change. In the summer of 2009, you traveled to your regional campuses to begin your community-based clinical training, and I’m sure you are wondering where the time went as you are now back for this exciting day. Soon you will be traveling again. 

This time you leave to go to hospitals and academic medical centers all over the country at fabulous programs. And what I have to say to you as you sit excited about your future is – enjoy the journey.
I believe graduates of this medical school are truly special people. Show them what you learned by how you act and treat your future patients. 

As you start your residency training I want you to remember that you represent a new innovative medical school, a school founded on the principles of patient-focused care and community-based training. Your faculty’s main job was to teach and mentor you, without major distractions by obligations for clinical practice and productivity. They did that very well. You have thrived in that environment and validated the vision of the founders of this innovative model. People have heard about FSU, and some thought it would never work. You are our best ambassadors for this distributed model of education, based in the offices of community physicians.  Your clinical faculty have enjoyed the partnerships they’ve had with you in this educational experience. They’ve invited you into the lives of their patients and showed you what it is to care for patients in these settings.

This special training, both here at the main campus and at each regional campus, has marked you as different. Treasure that difference. Maintain your focus on the patient.  

Remember Sir William Osler, the father of modern medical teaching, who would hope that the trait he would wish to see endure in all physicians in the 21st Century would be simply compassion. As he said it so well, “It is more important to know what patient has the disease than what disease the patient has.”
 If you simply remember that in medicine the goal is “To cure sometimes, to relieve often, to comfort always,” you will do well.

From this point forward, you will assume a new identity, but you are also carrying with you the mission, vision and values of the FSU College of Medicine. You have become the exemplary physicians that we hoped you would be. We expect that you will remember to stay involved in your communities and care for the underserved, underrepresented and the aging. Your lives will never be the same as you improve the lives of others. We know we can expect great things from you and look forward to following you on your journey. I am very proud of each and every one of you.