"On August 27, 1967, one week before I was supposed to start medical school, an intruder broke into our apartment while my husband was at work. In the ensuing struggle, I fell from the third floor fire ladder I was using to escape, into the brick alley below. As I learned later, my back was immediately broken; I had become a paraplegic. I did not start medical school until September 1968, having spent most of the preceding year in the hospital and in rehabilitation. I was now 'independent at a wheelchair level,' including driving my own (specially-equipped) car. I was also able to walk short distances using braces and crutches. These poems describe events from my medical student, resident and attending physician days. They describe experiences of both being a doctor and being a patient. They also touch on the response of others to a physician with an obvious disability. They encompass my careers in both internal medicine and in psychiatry." --Beryl B. Lawn