BIOGRAPHY

The Adlers were living the American Dream for just a short time before it all fell apart. They had a small, comfortable house in Madison, Wisconsin, with a white picket fence and a family dog. Benjamin worked a cozy government job as an engineer for the state of Wisconsin, and Anna stayed at home to take care of their two young sons, Ezra and Daniel. The boys were, of course, the best of friends in their childhood, being only a year and a half apart, and Ezra found that the role of Big Brother suited him quite well.

But not everything was perfect. When Ezra was only 8 and his baby brother was a few days shy of 7, Daniel found it difficult to balance himself on his feet. He complained of blurred vision, of being too tired, and Anna and Benjamin knew deep down that something was wrong with their small, normally energetic son. It wasn't until his eyes starting hurting a day later that they rushed him to the emergency room, where a doctor ordered a MRI and CT scan. The diagnosis? Daniel had diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma—an aggressive brain tumor in his brain stem—and it was terminal.

Unfortunately, it was only the early 1990s when Daniel was diagnosed, and despite their best efforts—expensive treatments, exhausting radiation and daily chemotherapy to control the malignant tumor—and Daniel's bravery, he lost his battle nearly two years after the diagnosis.

There's a time in everyone's life when a significant event spawns a lifelong passion, and for Ezra Adler, his baby brother's death was it. A 10-year-old wasn't well-equipped to handle such a tragic death so early in life, so he turned to his studies as a way of mourning the loss. Over the next few years, Ezra could be found with his nose buried in a book; he read everything from classical novels to science fiction to comic books to medical texts, and his infatuation with scientific studies and medical research only grew as he got older. (No one would dare suggest it, but they all knew that this was how Ezra coped with Daniel's death; he tried to see the rational side of things, tried to absorb every ounce of information that was available on the disease that killed his only brother.)

It's not to say that Ezra was a loner by any means. He still found time for social activities, still made friends with a few kids at school. And he certainly didn't appear depressed. Ezra Adler was always quick with a smile and a word of advice for anyone who needed it—even quicker with a joke that was self-deprecating in nature because Ezra found the most comfort in a good laugh. His sunny disposition kept everyone from wondering exactly what went on beneath the surface, and truth be told, he liked it that way.

And though his passion with illnesses started with Daniel, Ezra found his true calling while attending summer camp each year as a teenager. As he got older, he started volunteering to work in the camp infirmary, where he realized just how rewarding it was to help the sick and wounded. (Almost everyone just had a cold, but it was rewarding nonetheless.) When college application season rolled around during his last year of high school, Ezra knew that he wanted to do something in the medical field—and he also knew that he wanted to stay close to home for those four years. So it was no surprise when he applied—and was accepted to—the University of Wisconsin-Madison to study biochemistry.

Four years flew by, and in that time, Ezra had been committed enough to his studies, making excellent grades and scoring well on the MCAT. He was involved with the university and his community; he was an active member of UW-Madison's Student Leadership Program; he volunteered at campus blood drives and research lectures. Overall, Ezra was a star student, and that made his application to the Alpert Medical School at Brown University stand out.

The first half of medical school—dubbed the Preclinical Years—flew by, and soon enough, Ezra found himself approaching the last two years at Brown. Among the six or so clerkships he completed, he loved his six weeks in pediatrics the most. Ezra was able to follow inpatient and outpatient teams, work with newborns and patients in the NICU, witness the chaos that was the pediatric emergency department at Hasbro Children's Hospital. And he loved every minute of it. Naturally, the next step was securing a residency in a pediatric program, and when the time came, Ezra moved across the country for the University of Washington's Pediatric Residency Program at Seattle Children's Hospital.

Ezra was most comfortable around children, which made his three years as a pediatric resident all the more enjoyable. He could finally focus on what he really loved, what truly brought out his passions. The thought of caring for someone from birth to adulthood was a tender one, despite the reality that not every patient he encountered would be around much longer. But even the children faced with certain death had a certain air of bravery and acceptance about them, and Ezra vowed that he wouldn't turn his back on them simply because his profession could go from joyous to mournful in a single day.

After three years in the pediatric program and three more years working as a pediatrician at Seattle Children's Hospital, Ezra felt it was time to make a change: another cross-country move. Once he was offered a position at Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital, Ezra tied up his loose ends in Seattle and made way for New York City at the start of 2014.

Not long after relocating on the other side of the country, Ezra met Charmaine Lawless in the most cliche way possible: Charmaine brought her niece to the hospital to remove a toy from her nostril, and after a few innocent (but terribly nerdy) jokes, Ezra had a date. One date turned into many, and Ezra saw Charmaine for nearly a year before his workaholic ways spoiled what could've been a good thing otherwise. After a particularly nasty fight (in which Ezra was clueless and Charmaine was irrational), they ended things and Ezra channeled all of his energy into his job.

Months passed, and Ezra is mostly back to his old self. He's enjoying the hours he puts into his work at Morgan Stanley and doesn't quite mind the fact that his social life tends to suffer more often than not in order for him to feel accomplished at the hospital. All in all, things are good. Mostly.