When I grew up I remember hearing English and another language, medicine. I was determined to learn this language of doctors. My nightstand was covered with anatomy books aside toddler bedtime stories. While my friends were busy solving Scoobie Doo mysteries, I was badgering Dad for medical cases to crack. By the time I was ten, I could hold my own side of medical talks with him. Two years later, I could even help. Not bad for a twelve year old girl whose father had been a doctor for over twenty years. I dreamed of putting ...
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When I grew up I remember hearing English and another language, medicine. I was determined to learn this language of doctors. My nightstand was covered with anatomy books aside toddler bedtime stories. While my friends were busy solving Scoobie Doo mysteries, I was badgering Dad for medical cases to crack. By the time I was ten, I could hold my own side of medical talks with him. Two years later, I could even help. Not bad for a twelve year old girl whose father had been a doctor for over twenty years. I dreamed of putting all this knowledge to use some day- a day after years of medical school and training -when I was a doctor myself. What I hadn't counted on was that day coming in the seventh grade! That all changed when I met Andre. He was a boy my same age and height, but he was sick and shriveled. While my family loved medicine, his family had a deep distrust of doctors. I was stuck: no amount of begging would convince Andre to see a doctor, and my mind and my heart would not let me drop it. Andre was not just another case from Dad's medical books. He was real and he was hurting. It was up to me to see that he got the right diagnoses and the best care possible. Chasing a Cure, that's my story. That's what I do. -Lilly Stone
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