Ask them for their hope.
This year, my grandfather Anderson was hospitalized for the flu, sent to rehab for recovery, fell and had a short femur rod placed, and ultimately placed in a memory-care facility. He lives in a studio apartment with a tiny bathroom. He lives in his wheelchair and has to be reminded constantly not to stand without assistance. His dementia is so far that he forgets that one command, and he’s already had a small fall again. This year, I’m much more family-focused and aware of the toll my career aspirations take on my family. Every time I come home to my parents, either to see my father (that career-focus keeps him busy) or get my hair done, I make it a point to stop by my grandfather’s room, wherever he may be this time. The last time I went to see him, he asked about school. It’s not uncommon for those who know me to ask about school instead of work. That’s where my passion is, and I can very rarely explain what I do in the operating room without violating ...