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My father was a doctor, an army cardiologist.

My dad was a doctor, but he was just always, like, going from hospital to hospital for some reason.

My dad was a doctor and surgeon. He was the fifth generation of his family to become a doctor.

My father was a doctor, and I admired him and got along well with him. He took me with him on house calls. We were living in Flushing, which was then a sleepy village of 25,000 - before the subway got there. I've been sure I wanted to be a doctor since I was about 12.

My parents both are physicians, and my grandfathers were both physicians.

My father was a doctor, but he was what I would call an intellectual - very well-read and very interested in knowledge. He insisted that I get as much education as my brothers.

I always wanted to follow in the footsteps of my maternal grandfather, who was a doctor.

My father happened to be a doctor, and though I loved and idealized him privately, professionally I never had any use for him or anyone connected with that science.

My dad was a physician. As a kid, I remember driving around with him on weekends so he could do his rounds at the hospital and talk to patients. We'd spend time in the car talking about what was going on with them, their stories.