What I want to be when I grow up
June, 2003, and I am 18 years old, just a few days from graduating from high school. In his home in Bridgehampton, Kurt Vonnegut is sitting at his kitchen table railing against the injustices of the American health care system. When he finishes, he takes my hand and says, “Don’t worry, you’re going to make a fine doctor.”
November, 2015, and my feet are blocks of cement as I slowly make …