In my family, becoming a doctor was almost a tradition.
My grandfather had been one. My father followed in his footsteps. For as long as I could remember, Dad imagined that I would eventually do the same.
And the strange thing was, I wanted it too.
I grew up surrounded by medical books, conversations about hospitals, and stories about difficult cases. By the time I reached high school, I was fascinated by medicine. I loved learning how the human body worked and imagining a future where I could help people.
So when I was accepted into medical school, Dad was incredibly proud.
He told everyone he knew.
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