I a live interview with renowned film critic, Gene Siskel, Oprah Winfrey was asked, ‘‘What do you know for sure?’’ At the time, she was caught off guard and found it difficult to answer the question. However, since then, Oprah has used that enquiry to assess her life, and she devotes the last page of her magazine ‘‘O’’ to a commentary about what she knows for sure. Similar to what Mary Flannery O’Connor, award-winning novelist wrote, ‘‘In the end, a people is known, not by its statistics and statements, but by the stories it tells,’’ I invite you to come with me on this personal journey as I share my story of why I do what I do and what I know for sure. In 1963, my paternal uncle who had worked in an asbestos plant in New Jersey was dying of lung cancer. Our family drove 120 mi from northeastern Pennsylvania to see him during his final days. I asked a lot of questions about his disease, but my family had few answers, leading me to wonder what it would be like to have the medical knowledge to answer those questions. During the trip home to Pennsylvania, I made the decision to become a doctor, and that decision was based largely on a gut feeling that being a doctor was what I wanted and needed to do. As knowledge is power, it seemed to me that medical knowledge was the most powerful type, and with it, one could assess a patient’s outcome. In addition, I knew that I would earn an excellent living as a physician in contrast to my parents who worked in factories and from time to time would be laid off or go on strike. Several years later, while dissecting a frog in high school biology class, I made the decision to become a surgeon, and I never looked back. This decision was made in the context of a small hometown environment, that is, a high school that included only 37 other classmates, no scientific laboratory, and no exposure to surgery. I knew in my gut that this was the right decision, and it felt as though I was born to become a surgeon. Approximately two decades later, during my fourth postgraduate year of training in general surgery, I made the decision to become a trauma surgeon. Of course, I was very influenced by my mentor and Chairman Dr. Kimball Maull, who was one of the four founding members of the Eastern Association for the Surgery of Trauma (EAST) and later became the organization’s first president. Subsequently, I was blessed to have completed my trauma and surgical critical care fellowship at the Washington Hospital Center, Washington, DC, under the direction of Dr. Howard Champion, who was also one of the four founding members of EAST and was elected as the organization’s fourth president. Now, fast forward with me to the present. I love what I do, and it never grows old. The excitement, challenges, gratification, and cases are to die for, but throughout the years, I have developed new perspectives that have shaped my career and enhanced my joy of caring for injured patients. I would like to convey that wisdom to you as lessons learned and then share a secret that has enhanced my enthusiasm about my career as a trauma surgeon for 28 years.