I grew up in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. At 19 I immigrated to the United States alone, carrying a dream that felt impossibly far away. That journey — from community college in Brooklyn to PA school, through five years of clinical practice across neurology, primary care, and psychiatry, and eventually to medical school at NYU — taught me more about medicine than any textbook could.

Each chapter taught me something the next one couldn't. Humility from patients who trusted me before I had all the answers. Compassion from immigrant families who reminded me of my own. The quiet understanding that becoming a good physician isn't a destination — it's something you practice every day.

I'm heading into Internal Medicine with plans to pursue cardiology. Not because I've figured everything out, but because cardiovascular disease disproportionately affects the communities I come from, and I want to spend my career closing that gap.

Men Toshkentda tug'ilganman. 19 yoshimda AQShga yolg'iz ko'chib keldim. Bruklindagi kollejdan shifokor yordamchisi maktabigacha, besh yillik klinik tajribadan NYU tibbiyot maktabigacha bo'lgan yo'l menga hech qanday darslikdan ko'ra ko'proq narsa o'rgatdi.

Har bir bosqich o'ziga xos sabaq berdi. Menga ishongan bemorlardan kamtarlik. Oilamni eslatgan muhojir oilalardan hamdardlik. Yaxshi shifokor bo'lish — bu manzil emas, har kuni mashq qilinadigan narsa ekanligini tushunish.

Ichki kasalliklar va kardiologiya yo'nalishiga kiryapman. Chunki yurak-qon tomir kasalliklari men kelgan jamiyatlarga ko'proq ta'sir qiladi.