The future of primary care is as bright as we choose to make it
I decided to become a doctor at the tender age of eight when I met my first patient — my grandmother, Grandma Sylvia. After spending two years in the midst of the Liberian civil war, she arrived in the United States with diabetes, hypertension, obesity and nearly blind due to glaucoma. One of my new chores was helping administer her daily insulin injection.
I also had the privilege of accompanying Grandma …
