"Mommy, can I see another one?". That is probably the most memorable image in my mother's mind. The house was cluttered growing up, but not with any old junk. Something worth more than gold, and has the capacity to save your life. Textbooks. Not just any old stack of paper, though. They were medical textbooks. Diagrams of flies and meat, petri dishes, the anatomical layout of man. From here, little four year old me, gained her passion for medicine. While the other girls and boys were learning phonetics, learning to read from Seuss, I exhibited the rarity I maintain today. I was learning to read from 'Anatomy and Physiology', or 'Biochemistry: a Study of the Human Machine'. Page, after page, I was fascinated with the idea that these squiggly little lines of text, could explain every process that goes on inside of us all. That it could all be explained, and that I could help people one day. By that age, I already knew to read English, Arabic, and Pashto. Why not give the language of medicine a shot? The reason why we even had these texts, however, is rather grim. My father at the time was studying to be a nurse. All seems well, to me at the time at least. Obviously so, since I was a child who knew none the better. My dad actually had lost his job. He served the army as a translator. As the war in Afghanistan, where we are from, got worse, it became more unsafe for him. He even got shot twice. I knew I must learn medicine, to fix and heal my daddy. To make his ache go away, to make him feel better whenever he was rarely at home. Becoming a nurse would help us from the financial ruin. Unfortunately that was sooner to come, than his degree, for the effects of the 2008 crisis were about. Those few years afterward were the hardest of my life. Seeing my parents struggle, going through hardship myself. I never lost faith, though, on reading, on medicine. If we had money, I asked my mom to buy me the cute little 5 senses books, from the 1st grade book-fair. If we didn't, the library sufficed. By second grade, I would ramble about to my mom. The reproductive system does this, lymph nodes are placed here, did you know what the hippocampus is responsible for? It probably bored her at the time, but for me since, it has been the passionate fire that drives me forward. Now to today. I have challenged myself personally, never letting go of that first love. I've taken college chemistry, and on my own learned higher levels of biology and some biochem. I have proven myself so well, I got a medical job, as a pharmacy technician. My passion is to help people, to understand them, and make them feel better. I hope in a literal sense will help people feel better. But, I want to make an example, as well. That someone from a rougher background can make something out of nothing. I want to help. I want to help my family, support them with what I learn and can earn. I am a person who volunteers and values my community. Helping has been my calling, from the bottom of my heart. My goal as a doctor is to learn something new everyday, to not forget the spark that started it all.

"Mommy, can I see another one?". That is probably the most memorable image in my mother's mind. The house was cluttered growing up, but not with any old junk. Something worth more than gold, and has the capacity to save your life. Textbooks. Not just any old stack of paper, though. They were medical textbooks. Diagrams of flies and meat, petri dishes, the anatomical layout of man. From here, little four year old me, gained her passion for medicine. While the other girls and boys were learning phonetics, learning to read from Seuss, I exhibited the rarity I maintain today. I was learning to read from 'Anatomy and Physiology', or 'Biochemistry: a Study of the Human Machine'. Page, after page, I was fascinated with the idea that these squiggly little lines of text, could explain every process that goes on inside of us all. That it could all be explained, and that I could help people one day. By that age, I already knew to read English, Arabic, and Pashto. Why not give the language of medicine a shot? The reason why we even had these texts, however, is rather grim. My father at the time was studying to be a nurse. All seems well, to me at the time at least. Obviously so, since I was a child who knew none the better. My dad actually had lost his job. He served the army as a translator. As the war in Afghanistan, where we are from, got worse, it became more unsafe for him. He even got shot twice. I knew I must learn medicine, to fix and heal my daddy. To make his ache go away, to make him feel better whenever he was rarely at home. Becoming a nurse would help us from the financial ruin. Unfortunately that was sooner to come, than his degree, for the effects of the 2008 crisis were about. Those few years afterward were the hardest of my life. Seeing my parents struggle, going through hardship myself. I never lost faith, though, on reading, on medicine. If we had money, I asked my mom to buy me the cute little 5 senses books, from the 1st grade book-fair. If we didn't, the library sufficed. By second grade, I would ramble about to my mom. The reproductive system does this, lymph nodes are placed here, did you know what the hippocampus is responsible for? It probably bored her at the time, but for me since, it has been the passionate fire that drives me forward. Now to today. I have challenged myself personally, never letting go of that first love. I've taken college chemistry, and on my own learned higher levels of biology and some biochem. I have proven myself so well, I got a medical job, as a pharmacy technician. My passion is to help people, to understand them, and make them feel better. I hope in a literal sense will help people feel better. But, I want to make an example, as well. That someone from a rougher background can make something out of nothing. I want to help. I want to help my family, support them with what I learn and can earn. I am a person who volunteers and values my community. Helping has been my calling, from the bottom of my heart. My goal as a doctor is to learn something new everyday, to not forget the spark that started it all.

"Mommy, can I see another one?". That is probably the most memorable image in my mother's mind. The house was cluttered growing up, but not with any old junk. Something worth more than gold, and has the capacity to save your life. Textbooks. Not just any old stack of paper, though. They were medical textbooks. Diagrams of flies and meat, petri dishes, the anatomical layout of man. From here, little four year old me, gained her passion for medicine. While the other girls and boys were learning phonetics, learning to read from Seuss, I exhibited the rarity I maintain today. I was learning to read from 'Anatomy and Physiology', or 'Biochemistry: a Study of the Human Machine'. Page, after page, I was fascinated with the idea that these squiggly little lines of text, could explain every process that goes on inside of us all. That it could all be explained, and that I could help people one day. By that age, I already knew to read English, Arabic, and Pashto. Why not give the language of medicine a shot? The reason why we even had these texts, however, is rather grim. My father at the time was studying to be a nurse. All seems well, to me at the time at least. Obviously so, since I was a child who knew none the better. My dad actually had lost his job. He served the army as a translator. As the war in Afghanistan, where we are from, got worse, it became more unsafe for him. He even got shot twice. I knew I must learn medicine, to fix and heal my daddy. To make his ache go away, to make him feel better whenever he was rarely at home. Becoming a nurse would help us from the financial ruin. Unfortunately that was sooner to come, than his degree, for the effects of the 2008 crisis were about. Those few years afterward were the hardest of my life. Seeing my parents struggle, going through hardship myself. I never lost faith, though, on reading, on medicine. If we had money, I asked my mom to buy me the cute little 5 senses books, from the 1st grade book-fair. If we didn't, the library sufficed. By second grade, I would ramble about to my mom. The reproductive system does this, lymph nodes are placed here, did you know what the hippocampus is responsible for? It probably bored her at the time, but for me since, it has been the passionate fire that drives me forward. Now to today. I have challenged myself personally, never letting go of that first love. I've taken college chemistry, and on my own learned higher levels of biology and some biochem. I have proven myself so well, I got a medical job, as a pharmacy technician. My passion is to help people, to understand them, and make them feel better. I hope in a literal sense will help people feel better. But, I want to make an example, as well. That someone from a rougher background can make something out of nothing. I want to help. I want to help my family, support them with what I learn and can earn. I am a person who volunteers and values my community. Helping has been my calling, from the bottom of my heart. My goal as a doctor is to learn something new everyday, to not forget the spark that started it all.

"Mommy, can I see another one?". That is probably the most memorable image in my mother's mind. The house was cluttered growing up, but not with any old junk. Something worth more than gold, and has the capacity to save your life. Textbooks. Not just any old stack of paper, though. They were medical textbooks. Diagrams of flies and meat, petri dishes, the anatomical layout of man. From here, little four year old me, gained her passion for medicine. While the other girls and boys were learning phonetics, learning to read from Seuss, I exhibited the rarity I maintain today. I was learning to read from 'Anatomy and Physiology', or 'Biochemistry: a Study of the Human Machine'. Page, after page, I was fascinated with the idea that these squiggly little lines of text, could explain every process that goes on inside of us all. That it could all be explained, and that I could help people one day. By that age, I already knew to read English, Arabic, and Pashto. Why not give the language of medicine a shot? The reason why we even had these texts, however, is rather grim. My father at the time was studying to be a nurse. All seems well, to me at the time at least. Obviously so, since I was a child who knew none the better. My dad actually had lost his job. He served the army as a translator. As the war in Afghanistan, where we are from, got worse, it became more unsafe for him. He even got shot twice. I knew I must learn medicine, to fix and heal my daddy. To make his ache go away, to make him feel better whenever he was rarely at home. Becoming a nurse would help us from the financial ruin. Unfortunately that was sooner to come, than his degree, for the effects of the 2008 crisis were about. Those few years afterward were the hardest of my life. Seeing my parents struggle, going through hardship myself. I never lost faith, though, on reading, on medicine. If we had money, I asked my mom to buy me the cute little 5 senses books, from the 1st grade book-fair. If we didn't, the library sufficed. By second grade, I would ramble about to my mom. The reproductive system does this, lymph nodes are placed here, did you know what the hippocampus is responsible for? It probably bored her at the time, but for me since, it has been the passionate fire that drives me forward. Now to today. I have challenged myself personally, never letting go of that first love. I've taken college chemistry, and on my own learned higher levels of biology and some biochem. I have proven myself so well, I got a medical job, as a pharmacy technician. My passion is to help people, to understand them, and make them feel better. I hope in a literal sense will help people feel better. But, I want to make an example, as well. That someone from a rougher background can make something out of nothing. I want to help. I want to help my family, support them with what I learn and can earn. I am a person who volunteers and values my community. Helping has been my calling, from the bottom of my heart. My goal as a doctor is to learn something new everyday, to not forget the spark that started it all. Even little me knew how special it was to understand the big golf ball that we reside on.

"Mommy, can I see another one?". That is probably the most memorable image in my mother's mind. The house was cluttered growing up, but not with any old junk. Something worth more than gold, and has the capacity to save your life. Textbooks. Not just any old stack of paper, though. They were medical textbooks. Diagrams of flies and meat, petri dishes, the anatomical layout of man. From here, little four year old me, gained her passion for medicine. Page, after page, I was fascinated with the idea that these squiggly little lines of text, could explain every process that goes on inside of us all. That it could all be explained, and that I could help people one day. By that age, I already knew to read English, Arabic, and Pashto. Why not give the language of medicine a shot? The reason why we even had these texts, however, is rather grim. My father at the time was studying to be a nurse. All seems well, to me at the time at least. Obviously so, since I was a child who knew none the better. My dad actually had lost his job. He served the army as a translator. As the war in Afghanistan, where we are from, got worse, it became more unsafe for him. He even got shot twice. I knew I must learn medicine, to fix and heal my daddy. To make his ache go away, to make him feel better whenever he was rarely at home. Those few years afterward were the hardest of my life. Seeing my parents struggle, going through hardship myself. I never lost faith, though, on reading, on medicine. If we had money, I asked my mom to buy me the cute 5 senses books, from the 1st grade book-fair. If we didn't, the library sufficed. By second grade, I would ramble about to my mom. The reproductive system does this, lymph nodes are placed here, did you know what the hippocampus is responsible for? It probably bored her at the time, but for me since, it has been the passionate fire that drives me forward. I have challenged myself personally, never letting go of that first love. I've taken college chemistry, and on my own learned higher levels of biology and some biochem. I have proven myself so well, I got a medical job, as a pharmacy technician. My passion is to help people, to understand them, and make them feel better. I hope in a literal sense will help people feel better. But, I want to make an example, as well. That someone from a rougher background can make something out of nothing. I want to help my family, support them with what I learn and can earn. I am a person who volunteers and values my community. Helping has been my calling, from the bottom of my heart. My goal as a doctor is to learn something new everyday, to not forget the spark that started it all.

"Mommy, can I see another one?". That is probably the most memorable image in my mother's mind. The house was cluttered growing up, but not with any old junk. Something worth more than gold, and has the capacity to save your life. Textbooks. Not just any old stack of paper, though. They were medical textbooks. Diagrams of flies and meat, petri dishes, the anatomical layout of man. From here, little four year old me, gained her passion for medicine. While the other girls and boys were learning phonetics, learning to read from Seuss, I exhibited the rarity I maintain today. I was learning to read from 'Anatomy and Physiology', or 'Biochemistry: a Study of the Human Machine'. Page, after page, I was fascinated with the idea that these squiggly little lines of text, could explain every process that goes on inside of us all. That it could all be explained, and that I could help people one day. By that age, I already knew to read English, Arabic, and Pashto. Why not give the language of medicine a shot? The reason why we even had these texts, however, is rather grim. My father at the time was studying to be a nurse. All seems well, to me at the time at least. Obviously so, since I was a child who knew none the better. My dad actually had lost his job. He served the army as a translator. As the war in Afghanistan, where we are from, got worse, it became more unsafe for him. He even got shot twice. I knew I must learn medicine, to fix and heal my daddy. To make his ache go away, to make him feel better whenever he was rarely at home. Becoming a nurse would help us from the financial ruin. Unfortunately that was sooner to come, than his degree, for the effects of the 2008 crisis were about. Those few years afterward were the hardest of my life. Seeing my parents struggle, going through hardship myself. I never lost faith, though, on reading, on medicine. If we had money, I asked my mom to buy me the cute little 5 senses books, from the 1st grade book-fair. If we didn't, the library sufficed. By second grade, I would ramble about to my mom. The reproductive system does this, lymph nodes are placed here, did you know what the hippocampus is responsible for? It probably bored her at the time, but for me since, it has been the passionate fire that drives me forward. Now to today. I have challenged myself personally, never letting go of that first love. I've taken college chemistry, and on my own learned higher levels of biology and some biochem. I have proven myself so well, I got a medical job, as a pharmacy technician. My passion is to help people, to understand them, and make them feel better. I hope in a literal sense will help people feel better. But, I want to make an example, as well. That someone from a rougher background can make something out of nothing. I want to help. I want to help my family, support them with what I learn and can earn. I am a person who volunteers and values my community. Helping has been my calling, from the bottom of my heart. My goal as a doctor is to learn something new everyday, to not forget the spark that started it all.

I love math because it is straightforward and logical.

I agree to that statement. I, personally, do not really play games online. That is not to say, however, that I am not aware of the issues in the space. One of my favorite platforms is Twitch. Twitch is a gaming-streaming platform. My favorite broadcaster is Hasan Piker. The phenomenon described in the quote is very remnant of what Hasan says. The quote pertains to parasocial relationships and behaviors. I feel like online people think since they are behind a screen, they have total ambiguity. What is often the case, is the exact opposite. People forget they still have a digital footprint. However, due to the lack of face to face confrontation, people say fairly more extreme things, than they would dare in person. In the same vein, but opposite direction, people forget that they are behind a screen. So much so, that they forego social norms, and assume their streamer is their personal friend. To some extent, it is understandable, since influencers have a duty to make everyone feel like they're their best friend. That's where the revenue comes from. Yet, I do not relieve the layman from their culpability. In Hasan's case, quite often people think that he is talking to them directly, and they exude stalker-ish behavior. These are all things that would not be appropriate in real life, or as we say it, IRL.

"Mommy, can I see another one?". That is probably the most memorable image in my mother's mind. The house was cluttered growing up, but not with any old junk. Something worth more than gold, and has the capacity to save your life. Textbooks. Not just any old stack of paper, though. They were medical textbooks. Diagrams of flies and meat, petri dishes, the anatomical layout of man. From here, little four year old me, gained her passion for medicine. While the other girls and boys were learning phonetics, learning to read from Seuss, I exhibited the rarity I maintain today. I was learning to read from 'Anatomy and Physiology', or 'Biochemistry: a Study of the Human Machine'. Page, after page, I was fascinated with the idea that these squiggly little lines of text, could explain every process that goes on inside of us all. That it could all be explained, and that I could help people one day. By that age, I already knew to read English, Arabic, and Pashto. Why not give the language of medicine a shot? The reason why we even had these texts, however, is rather grim. My father at the time was studying to be a nurse. All seems well, to me at the time at least. Obviously so, since I was a child who knew none the better. My dad actually had lost his job. He served the army as a translator. As the war in Afghanistan, where we are from, got worse, it became more unsafe for him. He even got shot twice. I knew I must learn medicine, to fix and heal my daddy. To make his ache go away, to make him feel better whenever he was rarely at home. Becoming a nurse would help us from the financial ruin. Unfortunately that was sooner to come, than his degree, for the effects of the 2008 crisis were about. Those few years afterward were the hardest of my life. Seeing my parents struggle, going through hardship myself. I never lost faith, though, on reading, on medicine. If we had money, I asked my mom to buy me the cute little 5 senses books, from the 1st grade book-fair. If we didn't, the library sufficed. By second grade, I would ramble about to my mom. The reproductive system does this, lymph nodes are placed here, did you know what the hippocampus is responsible for? It probably bored her at the time, but for me since, it has been the passionate fire that drives me forward. Now to today. I have challenged myself personally, never letting go of that first love. I've taken college chemistry, and on my own learned higher levels of biology and some biochem. I have proven myself so well, I got a medical job, as a pharmacy technician. My passion is to help people, to understand them, and make them feel better. I hope in a literal sense will help people feel better. But, I want to make an example, as well. That someone from a rougher background can make something out of nothing. I want to help. I want to help my family, support them with what I learn and can earn. I am a person who volunteers and values my community. Helping has been my calling, from the bottom of my heart. My goal as a doctor is to learn something new everyday, to not forget the spark that started it all.