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Look Ma, No Hands


I’ve wanted to be a doctor for as long as I can remember.

When I was seven years old, my father bought me a bicycle for my birthday. He wheeled it into the living room with childlike enthusiasm, sure that he was about to score a ton of dad points.

The bike was immaculate. It had all the bells and whistles a kid could dream of; it was the kind of thing that would make any kid in the neighborhood jealous.

By Antoni