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

For me, medicine had always meant something different.

I volunteered at a rehabilitation hospital, took every science course available, and spent two summers in a university laboratory doing whatever work they trusted a teenager to handle.

When my acceptance email arrived, Mom cried.

Dad opened champagne.

For about two days, I thought they were proud.

Then continue reading …