This is when the healer in me was born
This Is When the Doctor in Me Was Born A love story between a little girl, a needle, and a lot of big questions. Someone asked me a beautiful question not too long ago. They said, “When did you first know you wanted to be a doctor?” And I smiled not just with my mouth, but with my whole memory. Because the answer isn’t in a textbook or a career quiz. It lives in a very specific moment from my childhood one that still makes me pause and go, “Ah, that’s when she woke up in me. The healer.” It started with a needle. Not the sparkly embroidery kind (although that would’ve been a cooler aesthetic). This was the medical kind. Sharp. Precise. Full of meaning I didn’t yet understand. I must’ve been around six or seven when I saw my father giving insulin injections to my grandfather. He had type 1 diabetes from the age of 17 bless him. Life had handed him some heavy losses early on, and in the midst of all that emotional weight, diabetes made itself right at home. My mum, bless...