My Life Of A Doctor

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A stethoscope, box of bandages, syringe, and thermometer—all made of plastic and enclosed in a small case with a red cross imprinted on the front. These items had been some of my favorite childhood toys and represent how long I have wanted to become a doctor. Apart from a brief carpentry phase when I was 7, I honestly cannot recall a time when my mind was not focused on a future career in medicine. Part of this early interest was undoubtedly spurred by my family’s history in the field. I have multiple family members who have been nurses or physicians; however, the largest influence was my Father whom I have looked up to as a role model and example of the kind of doctor that I want to be. I loved that my Dad was a doctor. I realized the importance of his career, but mostly I loved always having someone there to help me through all of my minor and major childhood traumas. When I was young and received a gruesome 4th of July sparkler wound, my Dad was able to calm me down and make me feel safe. Although I may have squirmed and cried, I knew my Father could help me because I knew that he was a Doctor and what that meant. I knew the amount of training he had received, the years of school and residency, and most importantly that I could trust him to take care of me. That level of trust is something that I aspire to gain in the future.
As I grew older I became more interested in medicine but for different reasons. The experience that affected my medical aspirations the most in

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