University of Florida College of Medicine - Retrospectroscope Yearbook (Gainesville, FL)

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16 Doctor A word, an image, a responsibility. Yes doctor, you're intelligent; you’re educated; and you're trusted. Trusted by your fellow man with his most cherished and prized possession, his life. So as you go through life enjoy yourself, you have only one as far as I can discern. But re- memeber, when you call yourself “doctor” you shoulder a responsibility. Don’t fracture fact to save face. As Petrarch said, “It is a singular privilege of their calling that a man need only say he is a doctor for people to put blind trust in him. Yet falsehood is more dangerous in this art than in any other.” Archibald Alexander McNeill III Unfortunately the powers that be have not learned that you can’t legislate the totality of human experience, even in an effort to achieve excellence. When such an attempt is made, the rules eventually supercede the thrust of the integrity of the ideal which the rules were originally designed to protect. Hence the morality of the issue is lost, in- stitutionalized, and enforced, with subsequent alienation of those under its jurisdiction. ; For example, research naturally arose from the intellectual en- vironment of the teaching experience. In an effort to communicate the fruits of investigation, the seeker came to rely on publication as his most efficient tongue. Yet in the years to follow a bastardization and distillation of the above process has occurred to the point where the emphasis now lied on PUBLICATION. Not only does one feel compel- led to publish anything that is publishable, but one’s advancement and eventual academic survival is so determined. ' This development has lead to a skewing of faculty priorities away from unquantified activities such as student teaching, to the more readily accredited estimate of one’s worth, one’s literary, profligacy. It is sad to see that the vehicle which served to promulgate the spirit of intellectual pursuit has unwittingly become a beaurocratic device which separates the faculty professor from his innate duty, the nurturance of new minds. Guy R. Ulrich Traumatic Decortication Always the blinds were pulled in your room where you Waited, Patient as a pupa, for a diaper change or a turn Onto last week’s bedsore. Your sightless eyes would burn White in the dark while your sould crouched in the corner. Monthly that winter your mother came and repeated Her conviction that you, ‘would soon be looking better’, And proudly numbered the gooks you'd killed before The shrapnel buried your mind in Asia’s mud. For a year synthetic life had been pumped to your blood Through dozens of tubes. Each day the residents Were pleased to see your heart and lungs were clear — Organs serving no intelligence. Then one morning we found your BIRD unplugged. The corner Was empty. I opened the blinds. Spring was near. K. D. Beernink, M.D. submitted by Michael Proctor “He that sinneth before his Maker, let him fall into the hands of the physician.” Ecclesiasticus submitted by Alan Harmon Circulation of the blood in the forearm William Harvey, Exercitatio anatomica de mortu cordis et Sanguinis in animalibus, 1628 “The stars ain’t so close together as they look to be.” Mark Twain submitted by David Butner “If to the fleeting hour I say ‘Remain, so fair thou art, remain!’ Then bind me with your fatal chain, For I will perish in that day. ‘Tis I for whom the bell shall toll, Then you are free, your service done. For me the clock shall fail, to ruin run, And timeless night descend upon my soul. Faust, Part One Goethe submitted by Michael Proctor Oh doctor, oh doctor, oh dear doctor John, Your cod-liver oil is so pure and so strong. (’m afeared on me life I’ll go down in the soil; If my wife don’t quit drinking your cod-liver oil. Burl Ives, submitted by Arch McNeill This presentation has necessarily been as spotty as its format. We have not the space, nor the time, nor the talent to fully express the experiences of four of the dullest of years, much less these four most recently past. Our intent has been only to record and to preserve little prods to the memory, words and bits of ideas which may in future years allow us to recapture in our minds for just an instant or two a glimpse of what it was... . to be in Medical School . . . at Florida. . . in the Class of 1976. Archibald Alexander McNeill, III Michael Proctor

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In Dedication SOLACE IN MEDICAL PRACTICE I cared for a child who was dying; She loved me and I loved her well. She loved though her faith was unfounded For I’d heard the vesper knell. She believed that I was Almighty And through me the organ would swell To sound out the great benediction That meant she was sure to get well. ieee aa ee She was sure that she would recover And play with her dollies once more, That daddy would mend broken pieces And mother, the dress that she tore. The parents knew all that was going; They knew that the end was in sight They loved me because I loved their daughter Even though it was time for good-night. I grow old; as I do so, I ponder On the life I’ve been privileged to lead, To be with a child and her parents, Stay near in the hour of their need. Professional knowledge may fail me When the Angel of Death is at hand, And yet I am able to comfort With a solace just love can command. — A. Ashley Weech