Robert Bazaco Jr., MD

The first time I was called “doctor,” I was startled. I was a brand new medical student, not yet a doctor, in an impoverished neighborhood in Mexico. My white lab coat gave me an identity. It felt good to be called a doctor, and I knew I was finally on the path I knew I would find: a path one hundred and eighty degrees from where I was once headed. I was blessed with powerful role models who told me I was intelligent, capable, and needed. And I work hard to justify the faith these special people have in me. Those who see my white coat today do not know that their physician once scrubbed toilets in a bar in San Antonio, TX, for a living.