A foundational experience that opened the door to medicine was working at my family’s optical practice. My mother is an optometrist, and our practice was the first in the small town’s history. When I was young, my jobs included sweeping floors and cleaning glasses. Over time, I filled numerous positions, including receptionist, optical technician, and sales associate. I shadowed my mom and observed how she juggled being a working mother, business owner, and medical representative of our small community, which instilled in me the work ethic I have today. I learned that many of the patients had never been to an optometrist or been fitted for glasses due to the lack of providers in the area, opening my eyes to the deficiencies in care in rural areas. My favorite part of this experience was forming relationships with the patients by listening to their stories. I firmly believe that everyone has something to learn from and something to teach to everyone they meet. I am still intrigued by the stories people have to tell, whether in the community or the clinic. In family medicine, the diversity of patients ranges from newborns to adults, and in one day, I can see a grandparent, parent, and child in the same exam room. I enjoy talking face-to-face with patients, understanding their concerns, and establishing a connection to become a trusted advisor, which is why I see no other path for me than family medicine. I am a first-year medical student at the Quillen College of Medicine in their Rural Primary Care Track program. A small cohort of students and I are preparing to become primary care doctors and practice in rural or underserved areas of the country. 20% of the United States population lives in rural areas, but only about 10% of doctors serve this population. This healthcare provider deficiency is one of many barriers that rural Americans face when it comes to healthcare. After completing medical school and residency, I will practice as a rural family doctor in Tennessee. Achieving my dream of becoming a doctor has not been easy. In March 2020, my family experienced an unexpected financial crisis with the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, very soon after the business had started to support itself. All businesses were required to close, which halted our income. Expenses accumulated, and by the time we were allowed to reopen, the financial burden of operation was too much to overcome. Despite their education, hard work, and responsible living, my parents permanently closed the doors to their dreams. That summer, my mom started working full-time at an optical chain, and I got my first real job outside the family business. Through this experience, I learned about coping with severe loss by supporting my loved ones and pushing forward no matter the cost. Throughout college, I held one or more jobs at a time to help pay for school and living expenses. I have been financially independent for four years. Growing up with a family business in a rural area has given me an understanding of financial hardship/anxiety, chronic stress, and making sacrifices for family. My experiences have given me a unique perspective I will carry into medical practice. I will be able to empathize with my patients in a way other providers cannot. I can better care for my patients by understanding their external stressors and how they impact their health. As a primary care doctor, I will work diligently to help my patients attain the best level of health that they can have despite the inequities they may face.

Dementia-related illnesses, including Alzheimer's disease, strain the families of those affected. This strain can be emotional, physical, or financial. If the family member is being cared for at home, it is time-consuming, scary, and physically taxing. If the family member is being cared for in a skilled nursing facility, the financial aspect can be overwhelming. I have worked as a nursing assistant in a nursing home on a dementia unit and seen how the mental and behavioral changes of our residents affected their loved ones. However, I did not fully understand the toll that Alzheimer's disease could have on the family until I experienced a new perspective. Both of my grandmothers have Alzheimer's disease, and the toll on my family is evident. My paternal grandmother lives with my immediate family in Tennessee. She is frequently at home alone during the day while my parents work and my younger sister is at school. Last year, while home alone, she had an unfortunate misstep while trying to find a light switch and fell down a flight of stairs. As a result, she had a broken neck and had to be in an upper body immobilizing brace for three months. This physical impairment put a significant physical strain on my parents because they had to do everything for her, from feeding her at mealtimes to helping her use the bathroom. My parents cannot afford to put her in a nursing home and cannot take care of her full-time. They also missed work while she was recovering from her accident. This difficult position has made life at home very stressful.  My maternal grandmother lives with my grandfather at their home in Maryland. She sleeps in a hospital bed in a spare bedroom and has been getting progressively worse over the last year. She is incontinent and slowly losing her ability to move. They have no family nearby, and my grandfather is scared to leave her at home alone for any length of time, even when grocery shopping. Caring for her has been physically demanding on my 92-year-old grandpa. This experience has been emotionally straining for him. He is absolutely distraught with worry that he will lose her or that something will happen to him and he will be unable to care for her. Neither my grandfather nor my parents can financially afford to put either grandmother in a care facility. This financial strain is something I did not understand or experience while working at the nursing home. I saw the physical and mental effects on my patients as a result of the disease and observed how stressed their families were when they came to visit. Now that I have seen both the family's and the caretaker's side of this disease, I have learned to be observant of the family's perspective when treating a patient. As healthcare workers, we need to be conscious not only of our patients but of the families of our patients.