When I was born in 1970 with a rare genetic disorder called spondyloepiphyseal dysplasia congenita (SED), medical science wasn't what it is today and my mum and dad were treated terribly by the medical profession.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Last year I was diagnosed with osteoporosis. I was over 50, Caucasian, thin, small-framed, and I have it in my genetic history. It was almost a slam-dunk.
My father was a doctor.
I had no specific bent toward science until my grandfather died of cancer. I decided nobody should suffer that much.
I always wanted to follow in the footsteps of my maternal grandfather, who was a doctor.
Both my parents were doctors, and my mother had her surgery in the house. There were six children.
I did not want to become a poster child for yet another disease.
When I was a child, doctors sent my grandmother home in a wheelchair to die. Diagnosed with end-stage heart disease, she already had so much scar tissue from bypass operations that the surgeons had essentially run out of plumbing. There was nothing more to do, they said; her life was over at 65.
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.
I grew up in a scientific world, the son of a neurosurgeon.
My dad was a doctor and surgeon. He was the fifth generation of his family to become a doctor.