My goal as an osteopathic physician is to give my patients the utmost confidence that they are receiving competent care and empowerment to live life to the fullest with any medical diagnosis life throws their way, including cancer. A large part of my draw to the medical field came from growing up with a dear friend who was diagnosed with cancer at age 4. I watched her live the majority of her life in and out of hospitals, through radiation and chemotherapy, and multiple surgeries. Cancer took away so many of her opportunities and eventually even her life when she passed away at age 19, but thanks to modern medicine and a supportive care team, she was able to enjoy the few years that she had. For that I know my friend, our loved ones, and I are all grateful. I am working in the medical field as a scribe before starting medical school, and I have seen first hand how important it is for a patient to feel seen, heard, and cared for. If I can use my education and career for anything, I hope to be able to provide the same level of support to those who need it most. My ultimate goal is to become a family practice physician with the dedication to care for every patient with the treatment they deserve. I will be diligent in preventative medicine as well as supportive care. This scholarship will provide so much more than financial support for me; it will support my journey to give back to my community in honor of my friend and those with similar stories. Thank you for this opportunity.

I've always performed well academically and socially; however, this has been difficult living with ADHD. I remember many long nights frustratedly crying as I struggled to understand homework I couldn't focus on in class, and I have trouble with relationships due to difficulty explaining that my inattention is not intentional or directed to previous partners. As I learned how ADHD contributed to these issues, I felt I could finally breathe easy. "Invisible" disabilities are often stigmatized; without understanding this, I put daily pressure on myself to perform. I'll still work on these areas of weakness, but having a diagnosis provides me with the direction and understanding I need to face things with confidence and grace. I am studying to become a doctor, and cannot think of a better way to use my experience to help others. With focus on family practice, I anticipate working with patients of all ages and stages of understanding ADHD. My appointment will be safe spaces for education and coaching on living with a disability. By encouraging them and providing tools to make life more manageable, my patients will be able to go out into the world with the empowerment and support everyone needs and deserves.

Heart racing, chalk on the hands and somehow in the eyes, and another hold that does not seem conducive to a good grip. The experience of climbing is one of hard work, creativity, and mental fortitude. When I first started climbing at my local bouldering gym, I was intimidated by the height of the walls and the lack of equipment. But soon, I started paying attention to the methodical approach the "regulars" brought to their intermediate-to-advanced routes. Every movement was intentional, and you could see on their bodies the specific musculature they had been working on in order to finish these high-level projects. Their love and attention to this recreational sport were very attractive, and I was inspired to follow in their footsteps (or crimps?) in my climbing journey.  In the first few months, I tended to tire very easily, and I kept tearing my callouses on various routes. The number of bruises on my legs would make anyone question the health of my home life, but I could assure them that these were just from working hard at the gym. I also had moments of freezing on the wall when I couldn't get my mind to work past the fact that I could fall. I didn't expect that I would need to overcome so many mental blocks for this hobby. Now, going to the gym is like therapy—a place to clear my head and recharge for the day or week. The routes I struggle with have become fun and rewarding challenges, as well as a testament to how much work I've put into the sport. There are tangible results when I push through a tough plateau or learn a new technique, and I feel motivated and refreshed for the rest of life's challenges every time I walk out of my gym's doors.  Similarly, I have been putting in the work and exhibiting endurance in my path to medical school. Upon graduating from college, I had worked it up in my mind that I was not disciplined or smart enough to make it in medical school. My plans had shifted, and I was applying to become a Physician Assistant, but deep down, I knew my heart wasn't in it. Just like in climbing, I had to overcome my fears to unlock my potential to complete a lofty challenge. Some of these fears still flare up and require some consideration. Financial responsibility for my education is one of these things. It is intimidating to think of the amount of debt that the average medical student graduates with. On top of this, our resident salaries are not sufficient to start making adequate chips on this mountain of debt. With this in mind, I know that any amount of money from this scholarship would be helpful for me at this time. I am determined to become the best physician I can be, with intentional steps to get where I am today, and I would be honored to use the money from this scholarship to invest in the quality of care for my future patients through my education. Thank you for your consideration.

In the summer of 2018 I sat on a crowded bus in China, listening to a friend’s stories of healthcare in her city. She shared about a family working to adopt a toddler from an AIDS orphanage. This orphanage existed due to a misunderstanding of HIV transmission; fear and lack of treatment for a manageable virus meant kids were often surrendered by their families and isolated from society. Often times, these HIV tests were inaccurate, subjecting a child to a life of hardship for no reason. I looked out at the cigarette smoke-filled streets and noticed how rarely I’d see a pair of crutches or a wheelchair. My friend explained that citizens were delayed or even denied access to medical equipment unless they joined the Chinese communist party. The state of China’s medically under-served was strangely juxtaposed by the most active elderly population I’d ever seen. Retirees gather in parks to dance or practice tai-chi, and are able to do so because of cultural practices that encourage mobility. Engaging with this community strengthened my sense of purpose in helping people find health. I saw for the first time how eastern preventative medicine raises healthy individuals and began to imagine how it could greatly improve health in western communities. Similarly, I saw the value of accurate medical education in cities like the one I visited in China and how it could reduce stigma of illness and disability, raising the quality of life for all. This travel experience heavily influenced my decision to pursue a career in the medical field and apply to the osteopathic medicine program I will attend this fall. Travel, whether for pleasure, business, or volunteering and advocacy, is a beautiful way to engage in our global culture. In one lifetime, many people may not ever interact with cultures other than that of their hometown, which, in the age of the internet and our intertwined lives with a global community, can be quite a detriment. When we are immersed in a culture that is different from our own, we are challenged to not only learn and survive in it, but also to respect and appreciate the diversity of this world we live in. I still have friends in East Asia and value any conversations we have about how our cultures have shaped our perspectives and practices. We are so similar in so many ways, but we have the pleasure of celebrating our differences as well. Since taking time to travel, I find that my perspectives have become more discerning and considerate of other cultural worldviews. I hope that others value this experience as much as I have.

In the early hours of my undergraduate mornings, a small team of students and I would begin to open the on-campus Starbucks cafe. Rubbing the sleep from our eyes (though I am sure some of us had not slept yet thanks to all-nighter study sessions), we thoughtfully set out the signs advertising our fall specials and started brewing the first batch of many drip coffee carafes. These mornings could be tiring and getting out of bed during finals season was often a fight, but I remember them fondly as not only my source of financial support for my degree but also a creative outlet to craft drinks and serve our campus in a small but meaningful way: caffeination before a long day of lectures. During this season, the pumpkin spice chai rose to the top as my drink of choice and the first drink I would recommend to our assignment-laden customers. To me, this drink felt comforting without being too "mainstream"; everyone loves a little pumpkin spice during the fall, even if they don't think it's cool to admit it. It simultaneously catered to the popular tastes (pumpkin spice) while offering an alternative style that spruces up the drink and feels more adventurous (the chai latte as a base instead of the classic PSL). And at that time, pumpkin spice chai wasn't even an official menu item, just a spur-of-the-moment combination whipped up by sleep-deprived undergraduate students. In college, I was a teenager trying to define myself amidst a sea of other young adults doing the same thing. There was so much pressure to perform and break the mold, but sometimes it is okay to like "the mold" and still be true to yourself. I was learning that success and self-worth are truly not defined by the opinions of the masses as we were wont to think, and this drink was one small exhibition of this lesson. Pumpkin spice represents the "ordinary" girl that I am (hello "white girl fall"), but adding it to a chai latte expresses my desire to branch out and find new things to love. The pumpkin spice chai evokes a fond nostalgia for these days in my past because I remember how much I have changed since my college years while still expressing who I am and what I like. As I prepare for medical school, I look forward to the heartwarming (and delicious) action of buying a pumpkin spice chai and bringing it to a study session with my classmates to continue my path of self-discovery and aspirations to share what I have with my future patients. Cheers!

The mental battle of living with a chronic condition is a daily challenge that many people face. Most tasks have some level of difficulty higher than most people's baseline, and the ups and downs of medical workup and treatment are often draining. My experience with chronic illness includes living with major depressive disorder and recurrent aphthous stomatitis that has been occurring since I was a child. The most frustrating aspect of the latter is the lack of answers and treatment. Every few months, my mouth erupts in 10-30 canker sores that make eating, drinking, exercising, and even breathing an exhaustingly painful ordeal. This often exacerbates my symptoms of depression and anxiety, which in turn can contribute to more sores or worsening symptoms. The hardest part in my opinion is the fact that my illness is largely invisible to others. I've learned to put on a brave face in front of others when I'm feeling depressed, but easily fall apart when I get home. When my mouth sores flare up, I can become very quiet and detached, which comes across as standoffish or rude and gets in the way of building relationships professionally and personally. These conditions make it very tempting to give up, but by God's grace, I've been able to power through and achieve goals that I never thought I'd be able to reach. Depression has essentially forced me to communicate more transparently with others, especially when I need help with my mental health. It has challenged me with vulnerability when I'd rather isolate and I've learned that this actually makes my relationships stronger. Similarly with my mouth, I've become stronger by realizing what I can accomplish despite my pain, as well as learning when I need to rest and heal. With the development of this self-awareness and grit, as well as plenty of support from loved ones, I have been able to complete my bachelor's degree, participate in student leadership roles, volunteer regularly, pass the MCAT, and get accepted into medical school to pursue my dream of becoming an osteopathic physician. Through all this, I've also been able to empathize with others who struggle with the same things I do. I believe this will be invaluable for my career as a physician, as I now have a unique level of understanding that I can bring to my patients who will come to me for mental health help or while coping with other chronic illness. No person has the exact same struggle, but I think I will be able to build more trust with patients by relating to them at a deeper level and offering treatment goals that are more realistic for their respective conditions. While I don't think I'll ever be able to say "I'm glad I have these conditions", I now appreciate the life perspective they have given me and look forward to using this experience to empathize with and elevate others going through similar struggles. And who knows? Maybe my medical colleagues and I can develop some new treatments to share with others in the next few years. What an exciting opportunity.

I had never heard the word "glioblastoma" when my grandpa was diagnosed in 2021, but knowing that "-oma" meant tumor and learning that he had two of them in his frontal lobe gave me a strong suspicion that this was going to be a rough year. Unfortunately, I was right. My grandfather, whom we called "Pops," was a gruff-appearing, blue-collar, God-fearing wine enthusiast and was loved by all who knew him. He taught us all how to get through difficult life situations with a strong work ethic and attributed it all to the Lord's strength and grace. Even in his last few months, as his body progressively failed on him, he never seemed scared. His comment to us would always be, "I know where I'm going anyway, but I wish I could stay a little longer." Though he never finished high school himself, he was always the biggest advocate for his kids and grandkids pursuing education to the best of their individual abilities. When I told him I was interested in the medical field, he became one of my biggest supporters as I made my way through high school, college, and the grueling process of applying to medical school. I initially planned on becoming a Physician Assistant, but over the course of a year working with a local clinic, I decided that I wanted to push for a higher medical degree in order to provide the highest level of care to my future patients. One day in his hospital room, I was telling him about my thought process and that I was pretty sure I should apply to medical school. He talked with me for awhile and encouraged me, saying that he had no doubt I could do it and do it well. Always focused on the right priorities, he reminded me that if this career was what God had planned for me, I would be able to get through it. And of course, in true grandparent fashion, he told me he was proud of me. I remember him putting his hand on mine and saying, "Dr. Reuss has a better ring to it anyway." We laughed and sat in that moment together for awhile. That conversation, in addition to a lifetime of support, has been a large part of what continues to motivate me to pursue medicine. I was studying for the MCAT when he came home on hospice in 2022, and this year, nearing the second anniversary of his death, I am enrolled at Pacific Northwest University to become a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine.  Learning from the example of Pops has motivated me to treat all my patients and co-workers with love and a servant's attitude. He worked hard to support us in many ways, and I aim to reflect that same devotion in my work. What's more, working as a physician will put me in the unique position to support those with terminal diseases or in the process of losing a loved one in the same way my family did. If I can use my knowledge of medicine to help develop a cure or assist in treatment for various cancers, that would be amazing. But even if "all I get to do" is be a loving, hard-working person that my patients can rely on, that is just as exciting in my mind because it means I get to share a little bit of my grandpa with whoever comes through the doors of my office.