Etherine Tansimore Scholarship

When I was five years old, I told my mother that I wanted to become a teacher. I enjoyed helping my classmates understand basic concepts and finding words in crossword puzzles. As I got older, I still enjoyed extending my help, but not through being a teacher. Being around healthcare professionals every day when I got home from school impacted me. I often saw many shades of blue scrubs coming in and out of my front door. From my mother working night shifts in the Emergency Room to my Aunt letting me help her with her medicine injections, I received direct access to the medical experience. Around the age of ten, I found out that my mother has Multiple Sclerosis. At the time, I did not know to what extent this disease would affect us. I have seen her symptoms progress over time, from complaints about dizziness and fatigue to concerns about her numb fingers, I have instilled fear and anxiety within myself. One day, she started to complain of horrible chest pain. She experienced shortness of breath and described the pain as if an elephant was sitting on her chest. Though she expected the pain to decrease over a short period, it went on for days. When she finally decided to go to the doctor, she was given an EKG, a stress test, and a cardiac workup. Since those tests showed no serious signs of damage, the doctor explained that she was experiencing anxiety and stress followed by a suggestion that she gets plenty of rest. My mother was skeptical of the doctor’s orders since this was not the first time she had experienced stress. She followed the orders and decided to try and relax. This only stopped the pain temporarily. After a couple of weeks went by, she began to experience the same symptoms once more. My mother went back to the doctor and reported the same concern. She expected to be reseen with quality care and concern, yet this did not happen. They sent her back home with the same information as her first visit. She felt as though they were not listening to her complaints. Once she returned home, she kept describing to me her pain and what her doctors would not do for her. This made me feel powerless and weak since I was not her healthcare provider. The only thing I could offer her was my love and support. That is not enough for me, and it will never be. My mother will forever be my greatest inspiration regarding my goals. I will always choose to protect her. To do so, I must be the change within the American healthcare system people ought to see. Attending a College or University will give me access to strive for the medical rights of underrepresented populations. As a student working towards a Bachelor of Science in nursing to become a Nurse Practitioner with a Master of Science in nursing, I will learn the fundamental skills of patient care, advocacy, and be well prepared to persevere through hardships and adversity. I will be able to express my concerns about medical discrimination where they are genuinely valued and eventually become a leader to improve the care for minorities in healthcare. My mother’s story is not uncommon to hear, which speaks volumes as to the issue I stand for today.