A Piece of My Mind Section Editor: Roxanne K. Young, Associate Editor.
I got my first stethoscope at age 5. It had baby-blue rubber tubing with yellow earpieces and came in a white Fisher-Price box with handles. The box was monogrammed “Doctor's Bag” in bright red script and for a time it accompanied me everywhere. As often as I could corner them, unwitting friends and neighbors were subjected to a complete physical, often resulting in a diagnosis of strep throat, the bane of my childhood existence and the only malady I could name. Sometimes during examinations “patients” would ask if I was going to be a doctor when I grew up. “No,” I would say. “I’m going to be a ballerina.”
Redig AJ. Jigsaw. JAMA. 2006;295(4):363-364. doi:10.1001/jama.295.4.363