At my graduation dinner, Dad slid my acceptance letter back across the table and said I would not be attending the seven-year BS/MD program I had earned a place in. – Welcome

found me studying at the kitchen table.

He picked one up.

“What’s this?”

“Cardiac pharmacology.”

He read the back.

“I understand none of this.”

“That makes two of us some days.”

He laughed.

Then his expression changed.

“I was wrong about something.”

I waited.

“I kept calling your program a risk because it wasn’t a future I understood.”

“That sounds right.”

He nodded.continue reading …