The night before my medical school interview, my sister poured bleach on my only blazer, and my parents told me to stop making a scene.

ice chips. Sometimes it was remembering that a patient liked the blinds open at sunrise. Sometimes it was standing beside someone when their family could not get there in time.

Dean Whitaker listened without interrupting.

At the end, he folded his hands over my file.

“Julia,” he said, “your application shows endurance. Your interview confirms it.”

I did continue reading …