The excited new medical students file into their rows, starched white jackets in hand.

I sit with my family, thrilled to see my sister sitting among her 250 classmates, embarking on her lifes next adventure. Soon each student walks back to their family and asks a loved one to assist them in donning their new coats; I take pictures as my dad theatrically guides my sisters arms through the sleeves. Even though a few were just out of college, her class demands a new respect as they return to their seats wearing their short white jackets. The dean speaks in his rolling baritone about how they will soon have Dr. embroidered before their names on longer white coats. I wistfully observe their eager faces; a degree and the opportunity to practice medicine are privileges that I am determined to attain. I have responded to the accustomed What do you want to be when you grow up? with a doctor for the majority of my life. I experienced a phase where I wanted to be an astronaut, but eventually decided I would rather spend time here on Earth. Since I can remember, I have been surrounded by physicians of exceptional caliber. I hear their chat at dinner parties, picnics, family gatherings and over the phone, and I am never bored by their conversations. An interesting new procedure; an out-of-the-ordinary patient (my mom is a psychiatrist); changes in hospital administration: each exchange proves to be more fascinating than the last. My maternal grandfather, age eighty, is a practicing clinician in Mumbai. His personal connections with patients are so strong (some spanning four generations) he might never feel ready to retire. He is less than five feet tall and has difficulty hearing, yet his patients look to him with reverence and faith. I feel a similar effect at my sisters white coat ceremony as parents tearfully stand in ovation acknowledging the accomplishments of their children. My love of characters and personalities is a driving force behind my choice of medicine. Whenever I meet someone, I immediately want to learn all I can about them. As a chronic peoplewatcher, I delight in observing the medical students of all ages walk by my aisle-seat as I try to imagine each one four years hence as an accredited physician. Even with characters in novels, sitcoms, and reality TV, the smallest details stand out to me. My greatest joys, my deepest understandings flow from observing the everyday successes and struggles which physicians witness every moment. The speaker at the white coat ceremony speaks of medicine as the most intimate profession; within minutes of meeting a doctor, a patient divulges every last detail regarding their state of being. My interest in the lives of others will facilitate lasting connections with my patients. From what I have observed, the faith patients put in their doctors is among the strongest bonds in existence. While some may have lost faith in government, religion, or marriage, few stop looking to medicine in a time of need. We glimpse civilization at its best when people have absolute faith in one another. The most satisfying achievements and happiness are the result of dependable relationships. My goal is to better peoples health while perpetuating the vitality of the physician-patient bond. My father often says, Your grandfather would be so proud of you, during a moment of accomplishment or celebration. As he solemnly repeated this line to my sister, posing for pictures in her new white coat, I recall a rare time in my life when I doubted the medical field: the year my paternal grandfather struggled through a rare neurological disorder. The body is the unit of human function. When the integrity of the body is compromised through injury or disease, everything that matters is at stake. My grandfather was a math professor, the most brilliant man I have met. Thankfully, his adept mind never faltered, though he was left bed-ridden. Confined at home with around-the-clock nurses the year before he died, he watched his lifetime of dignity dissolve. Those last eleven months were defined by the hardest struggle I have ever witnessed. Two of his children and his daughter-in-law (my aunt and parents) are physicians; they tried everything to restore his

physical health, but to no avail. The prolonged pain and lack of any positive change broke my heart; for a while, I was unsure if I could endure such agony as a future physician. Years later, however, I continue to find blessings in his curse. My grandfather brought his far-flung family to his bedside. He demonstrated his immense power of mind in fighting suffering, age, and disease. He brought out the best in his doctors who reached new heights in their efforts to cure him. He encouraged his three grandchildren to pursue their goals in medicine, reaching to exceed the skill and innovation of todays doctors. My cousin and older sister are already on their way, and I am excited to join them. Speakers at the white coat ceremony mention that the challenges involved in the medical field extend far past incurable disease, especially regarding the practice and payment of medicine in the future. The crowd chuckles and groans, as the term healthcare evokes tension in the audience. The students up front, however, continue to nod resolutely as the major administrative and policy changes which likely loom in the future are discussed, looking forward to weighing in on this monumental gear shift. They take all that is said into consideration and stand to be sworn into a society of life-savers. As the 250-strong body reads centuries-old principles of medical ethics, I follow along in my program, desirous of the day when I will earn my turn to stand in their place.

I have never been as sure of anything in my life: medicine will without a doubt be my future.