It was not until I ended up lost in New Jersey that I finally realized that using maps is not my forte. This was surprising to me because I have always attempted to map out my life with paying close attention to details. I should have known better because despite my many life maps I have yet to reach the rout I planned. Looking back on the journey that has led me to this junction that now lies ahead of me, the path I traveled is less important than the sights and sounds I experienced along the way. During my journey, various experiences have shaped my views on health care, medicine, and my passion for becoming a physician. Most recently, I have experienced health care as a student of health policy and public health learning about Medicaid waivers, HIPAA, and decision analysis. Before graduate school, I was a student in Chemistry labs, Sociology seminars, and abundant required humanities classes. I think back to the days that I volunteered with AIDS Care Service, helping to provide companionship and a sense of normalcy to people suffering. Further back my map reveals the time I spent as a humble research assistant, sifting through numerous files, compiling data, and analyzing the subtle nuances of each patient record. Yet, no matter how far I have strayed from my intended plan I always come back to this one incident that put me on my course towards medicine. The memory of a doctor, a woman, dressed professionally in a long skirt and sweater with a white coat over her ensemble still is clear in my mind. She enters the room quietly giving a shy greeting to her next patient. Examining the chart closely, she recognizes that her patient, an ailing eight-year old girl, is back in her office again with a severe respiratory infection. The child lays curled up in the fetal position on the brown leather examining table too sick to even raise her head. The young girls face is red with fever and the weeze and crackle of her lungs are audible even without a stethoscope. Without hesitation, the doctor bends down to inspect the girl, listening to her heartbeat and her chest wheeze, a sound which her mother is all too familiar with . The doctor is now kneeling on the cold linoleam floor, unconcerned with her own comfort, in order to make her assessment. After asking a few questions and making several more observations of the congested nasal passages and the engorged tonsils, the doctor makes the diagnosis and prescribes a series of medications that she hopes will cure her patient's recurring illness cycle at last . Finally, without hesitation, she reaches down and gently strokes the human ball on the arm silently reassuring that things will be OK. The doctor leaves not knowing the lasting impact she has made on this impressionable young woman, the way she forever changed my life map. When I envision my future as a doctor I focus on the hope that I too may influence one person in the way my pediatrician changed my life on that day, making all the hard work, doubts, and real sacrifices worth it. My vision is an idealized memory I maintain, over the years it has come to include personal adjustments that allow me to realistically place myself in that picture. My plan for the future now includes the cracking and popping of the doctor's knees as she goes to examine her patient; the result of strenuously dancing for sixteen years of her life. The white coat has a small light brown stain on it where Dunkin Donut’s iced coffee has been spilled on it repeatedly, sustaining her through long shifts. Finally, her pockets bulge holding sugar free Trident gum and elastic hair ties, the two things without which she could not survive. While my map is constantly devolving, my past shapes the road I have chosen to take now. Recently, my map has come to include a more realistic view of what health care is in the United States. Despite society's longing for the days of house calls and Marcus Welby’s, the vocabulary of medicine now includes managed care, quality standards, and tort reform. These buzz words now flood the health community dialogue and represent that health care has now developed as a multidisciplinary institute. My vision has now morphed from the physician in scrubs and sneakers to one who is also comfortable in a suit that has learned to balance those nurturing moments with the enduring battle of quality, access, and cost. However, the new generation physician of my dreams remembers her time as the research assistant, the lab student, and the volunteer who’s reflection appeared in an aids patient's eyes. It no longer matters how I came to travel down this road or weather or not I got lost on the way because I now look only to the future, to the many paths that lie ahead of me. All the roads are challenging with many obstacles to overcome; but at the end of each road in front of me, the destination is the same. I stand at the end of each path with all the requirements needed to be a doctor: a desire for knowledge, compassion, self-awareness, patience, and humanity. Those are the only things that I have never lost on my journey.