Personal Narrative Essay

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I was frantically navigating a wheel chair with my mother in it. I was avoiding stretchers, rushing nurses and orderlies through the corridors of a hospital emergency room; it was not an easy task. We came to a curtained room and patiently waited for a doctor. A lady appeared in a white gown and went through the routine medical exam. I still remember her face, her compassionate eyes, comforting words and a personal touch; she held my shoulders calmed my nerves and assured that my mother was not in any danger, she ‘will be taken care of’. Wiping my tears she handed us prescriptions and advised what to do with my mother’s mild appendicitis. We were slowly ushered to exit. I wanted to personally thank the doctor and asked for her. To my astonishment, the staff told me she was not the doctor she was a Physician Assistant a PA!
It was not until my acceptance in a nutrition program at a local university hospital that I started to grapple with the idea of my true future profession. I cordially declined the nutritionist program and seriously explored what I want to do. I kept remembering that incident, the presence of the PA and absence of the doctor; I could not shake that recurring thought.
My entire life has witnessed turbulence, struggles, and excitement. Born in Iran to a working class family, my father a budding civil engineer and mother a teacher; we were migrating to USA, the land of opportunity in the thick of ‘September 2001’. How my parents managed in those days and were

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