The Empty Space After My Name
When I was in high school, my father used to make me an offer.
If I got into medical school, one of the good public universities in Brazil, he would buy me a car.
Any car I wanted.
He made the same offer to my sister.
Neither of us became doctors.
For years, this was simply one of those family stories. Something you remember and laugh about.
Lately, I haven’t been laughing about it.
Because at 38 years old, I have found myself thinking something I am almost embarrassed to admit:
Maybe I should have become a doctor.
Not because I suddenly want to practise medicine.
I don’t.
But because…
The skinny
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