Immigrant parents are full of secrets. Growing up it wasn’t unusual for my parents and grandparents to randomly share remarkable stories of their lives before us over late nights drinking persian chai. Some of these stories made us laugh- the trips my parents took as newlyweds where my father insisted there was no need to book a hotel in advance resulting in impromptu car camping in Yosemite. Others shocked us like my grandma hiding her family's money on her four-year-old body after they had to escape their neighborhood during war. One of the most impactful stories my parents shared was when my mother told me matter of fact she was a survivor of stage three breast cancer diagnosed when my oldest sister was 6 years old. At thirteen years old, I had already developed an interest in medicine, but what felt even more profound was she never even told her own mother or sister as they lived continents away. It was difficult to understand these decisions she made initially, planting a seed of curiosity of the interplay between medical literacy, the advancements in medicine, and the impact of culture in decision making. This incident piqued my curiosity in medical research in addition to my interest in medical knowledge where I created a validated survey to determine attitudes towards sharing genetic testing results in families with hereditary cancer syndromes. This includes a focus on hereditary breast and ovarian cancers. Beyond this project, I engaged in multiple research endeavors spanning oncology, gastroenterology, and surgical outcomes. Across these projects, I learned to balance scientific rigor with real-world relevance: how emerging knowledge can be applied to improve patient care, and how clinicians navigate evidence-based recommendations alongside the nuances of individual lives. Once I expressed my deep interest in pursuing medicine, my dad repeated one lesson over late night tea, a Persian saying: he became a doctor, but did he become a human being?. The essence of this phrase is about the importance of maintaining empathy as a physician, beyond carrying the knowledge learned from textbooks. This saying has always reminded me of the importance of recognizing the immense responsibility physicians have first and foremost to their patients. These same words led to my involvement with Street Medicine Detroit, an organization dedicated to outreach for individuals with housing insecurities and insurance interruptions. As a tenacious student ready to develop skills in medicine, I was eager to start seeing patients, and early on I met an elderly gentleman with long standing COPD and a chronic but worsening cough. He was admitted to our inpatient pulmonary service but was not showing signs of improvement on the typical treatment course for a COPD exacerbation. I worked with our team expanding our differential, ultimately leading to his diagnosis of stage IV esophageal adenocarcinoma. My patient subsequently made the decision to pursue hospice, but his lack of health insurance threatened to interfere with his plan. I helped to coordinate his care between our inpatient street medicine consult service, the free clinic with which we coordinate care, and the palliative medicine team in order to make his dignified decision a reality. I made sure to still spend time with him every morning on pre-rounds, and the experience of combining my knowledge in the sciences and my care for patients in this manner confirmed my interest in Internal Medicine.

Immigrant parents are full of secrets. Growing up it wasn’t unusual for my parents and grandparents to randomly share remarkable stories of their lives before us over late nights drinking persian chai. Some of these stories made us laugh- the trips my parents took as newlyweds where my father insisted there was no need to book a hotel in advance resulting in impromptu car camping in Yosemite. Others shocked us like my grandma hiding her family's money on her four-year-old body after they had to escape their neighborhood during war. One of the most impactful stories my parents shared was when my mother told me matter of fact she was a survivor of stage three breast cancer diagnosed when my oldest sister was 6 years old. At thirteen years old, I had already developed an interest in medicine, but what felt even more profound was she never even told her own mother or sister as they lived continents away. It was difficult to understand these decisions she made initially, planting a seed of curiosity of the interplay between medical literacy, the advancements in medicine, and the impact of culture in decision making. This incident piqued my curiosity in medical research in addition to my interest in medical knowledge where I created a validated survey to determine attitudes towards sharing genetic testing results in families with hereditary cancer syndromes. Beyond this project, I engaged in multiple research endeavors spanning oncology, gastroenterology, and surgical outcomes. Across these projects, I learned to balance scientific rigor with real-world relevance: how emerging knowledge can be applied to improve patient care, and how clinicians navigate evidence-based recommendations alongside the nuances of individual lives. Once I expressed my deep interest in pursuing medicine, my dad repeated one lesson over late night tea, a Persian saying: he became a doctor, but did he become a human being?. The essence of this phrase is about the importance of maintaining empathy as a physician, beyond carrying the knowledge learned from textbooks. This saying has always reminded me of the importance of recognizing the immense responsibility physicians have first and foremost to their patients. These same words led to my involvement with Street Medicine Detroit, an organization dedicated to outreach for individuals with housing insecurities and insurance interruptions. As a tenacious student ready to develop skills in medicine, I was eager to start seeing patients, and early on I met an elderly gentleman with long standing COPD and a chronic but worsening cough. He was admitted to our inpatient pulmonary service but was not showing signs of improvement on the typical treatment course for a COPD exacerbation. I worked with our team expanding our differential, ultimately leading to his diagnosis of stage IV esophageal adenocarcinoma. My patient subsequently made the decision to pursue hospice, but his lack of health insurance threatened to interfere with his plan. I helped to coordinate his care between our inpatient street medicine consult service, the free clinic with which we coordinate care, and the palliative medicine team in order to make his dignified decision a reality. I made sure to still spend time with him every morning on pre-rounds, and the experience of combining my knowledge in the sciences and my care for patients in this manner confirmed my interest in Internal Medicine. As I look forward to a long career in medicine, I want to focus on preventative health and the impact and importance of breast health education.

Healthy young adults always neglect doctors appointments, but being considered at an extremely high risk for breast cancer makes this decision all the more risky. My mother was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer at the young age of 29. With no family history, this came as an extreme shock, and altered the lives of her three daughters forever. Knowing that I would always have several extra doctors appointments to attend to each year influenced my aspirations. From a young age, I knew I was not only interested in medicine, and attending medical school, but also interested in conducting research and advancing medicine. As a rising third year medical student, I have realized my career goals have two aspects- patient care and scientific research. Starting from my time at UCLA, I conducted research on glioblastoma, an incredibly deadly malignant brain tumor. I spent hours working in a laboratory using cancer cells taken from patients at the Ronald Reagan Hospital at UCLA and injecting them into hydrogels mimicking the brain's extracellular matrix to understand just why these cancer cells were so migratory. After beginning my master's program in public health at USC, I continued this work but also became interested in understanding if patients even understood their diagnoses, and how genetics could influence individual's lifetime risk of developing cancer. This led to a project conducted with the cancer genetics clinic at the University of Michigan aiming to understand patient attitudes towards sharing and understanding their cancer genetics screenings, focused on conditions like Lynch Syndrome and Familial Adenomatous Polyposis. These passions have continued as a medical student as I am now conducting a chart review understanding how to influence the preservation of language in individuals diagnosed with various brain tumors. These passions guide me as I look towards my future in medicine.