Champion

I've never been one to have a hero.  Growing up I, like most kids, looked up to certain people.  Whether these people were real or from my favorite animated television show varied greatly.  As I grew older, and started taking a closer look at the human race, those individuals became more and more of the animated persuasion.
In my adult life, the concept of a hero has grown into to something that only children can truly appreciate.  There are some amazing humans out there, don't get me wrong, but none that I would consider idolizing on the hero stage.  We're all just human, right?  Those of us that do "good" are really just doing what we're supposed to be doing.
On January 19, 2013, I changed my mind. Before my very eyes I saw a single human being endure what I perceived as impossible.  There was pain and exhaustion beyond anything that I've ever experienced.  There was also strength and determination that I could never emulate. Before me was the will of a human juggernaut.  I held this person in my own arms, so even if my vision was telling lies, my sense of touch made it tangible.  I was there when I thought that I'd seen all this person had to give, and I was there when this person showed me there was so much more.
After two days of labor, Lan gave birth to our son.  And after all of that, she held him with the strength fueled by a love that endures regardless of any burden placed on it.

My wife is my hero.

Smelling Roses

I'm a Pediatrician. That is to say, that is the career path I pursued and was lucky enough to obtain it. Like the majority of doctors around the world, I listen. I listen to stories, machines, babies, organs, etc.  I will admit that I get on cruise-control with some of the physical exams. It's not that I'm missing anything of diagnostic value, but a healthy portion of my exam is "non-focused."
Let me explain. When a person, in my case a child, comes to the hospital, they are usually complaining of one major issue. If that issue is a skin infection that's very localized and the history is not suggestive of anything out of the ordinary, then my listening for bowel sounds is important, but unlikely to yield any additional information that will change my decision making. So, I "focus" my exam on the involved area and then add "non-focused" elements as I see fit.
Every so often, in a situation like I just explained, I'll settle my stethoscope over the heart. I'll wait, and listen. It's a beautiful thing, to be honest. Never stopping to take a break; never questioning the demands placed on it; striving to perform, even in times of injury. If any single piece of our body deserves the perseverance award, my vote goes for the undulating muscle slaving away in our chest.
Sometimes, I listen to my wife's heart when she's sleeping. It's strength gives me pause. Soon, provided the unthinkable doesn't happen, our family will be one larger. I hope this new heart is as strong as Mother's. I can't wait to hear it.