Due to recent circumstances, Leslie’s story hit home for me. The story of a mother not ready for what was coming at her like a freight train. All of the medical professionals that treated her within the hospital saw her only as her ailments and not as an individual. She was nothing more than a crack addict to them. It wasn’t until she broke down at the sight of her dead child that they registered her as a mother who had just lost her child. Coming from someone who recently suffered from the same circumstances, I wish that my doctors had “discarded [their[ assumptions and connecting with [me] as a person” (245). My doctors only practiced chart talk just like Tweedy did when he was a new medical professional. Black Man in a White Coat chronicles Tweedy as he becomes comfortable becoming a doctor. He changes from a feeble minded man who is afraid to make decisions lest he make the wrong decision to a confident doctor who runs his own practice. His metamorphosis is the central problem within the book. He blends his own opinions with medical jargon make his message that “it is up to us to find the commonalities and respect the differences between us” easily accessible to those that read his book (245). The other reason that this book hit home for me is because I have finally found my path in life and am pursuing nursing. Reading about medical experiences as someone who currently works ion the healthcare field is enlightening as it gives me other caregivers perspectives and help others see their providers as humans as well.