You see, I wanted to become a doctor because, as a young child, I learned that even before I was born, my life depended on a medicine. The story goes like this... My mom visited a friend who had a cat and developed something called toxoplasmosis. The problem was that she was pregnant with me-her son. As soon as her gynecologist in America found out, he wanted her to abort the baby. I was five months in my mom's belly, and she didn't want to let me go. So, she called her cousin in Venezuela, who was also a well-known gynecologist. He mentioned that in France there was a drug that would allow her to continue the pregnancy. So she took a chance... two pills, and four months later, I was born. I was placed in an incubator as soon as I saw the light. They covered my eyes and my private parts so the lights wouldn't bother me. Two weeks later, I went home. My life began as a perfect child... Twelve years later, I was at home playing with my older brother on our skateboards. I fell, and immediately developed a huge black and blue bruise from the knee down. My mom screamed when she saw me and sent us to our room, worried about my leg. Thirty minutes later, my brother and I were jumping on the beds, playing and giving each other "teetie twisters," but as soon as my mom entered the room, she looked at my chest and became very scared-I was covered in bruises. She ran and called my pediatrician, explained my symptoms, and he told us to go immediately to Joe DiMaggio Children's Hospital. After that day, my life changed. They did many tests, and once the doctors found out what it was, treatment started. And we were doing just that-practicing medicine, but this time on me.