At 5 a.m., St. Petersburg breathes softly. I lace up my worn sneakers, sling my hospital bag over my shoulder, and step into the quiet Florida dawn. With each step, I smile to myself: This is real. I’m here. Living my dream as a doctor in the Sunshine City.
This journey began far away, in the bustling streets of Baghdad, Iraq. That’s where the dream first took root. Years later, I carried that dream across oceans and borders. I navigated unfamiliar cities in two U.S. states, learned new cultures and a new language, and poured myself into textbooks, all while studying relentlessly to pass the U.S. medical licensing process. There were long nights, quiet doubts, and moments of questioning. But beneath it all burned a quiet conviction: I came here to help people who need it most. That fire led me through every exam, every challenge, straight to St. Petersburg and St. Anthony’s Hospital.
My days begin in the soft glow of the hospital hallway. By 5:30 a.m., I’m reviewing my patients’ charts with my attending, not just preparing to treat, but preparing to see the people behind the diagnoses. We start with the sickest, but every patient gets our full presence. Kneeling beside a trembling hand, explaining complex terms in gentle words, sitting with families in their hardest moments, this is where medicine becomes human. I care for teachers, artists, veterans, newcomers … each one teaching me that healing isn’t just science, it’s compassion, commitment, and the courage to show up fully…