I imagine becoming a future physician who improves people’s lives at the highest level and offers them hope during anguish by providing them with transformational care; moreover, one day I want my hands to be vessels of a well-educated mind and tools for restorative care, whether I use them to perform surgery or touch patients’ shoulders in a gesture of empathy.

My mother’s yell pierced through the morning in Jordan, interrupting the trip to my parents’ homeland. Baba, my father, had just been t-boned by a drunk driver in Nevada and was being rushed to the ER. His car rolled over three times, causing his right hand to be forced through an open window and crushed between the car and the pavement. The accident left his right hand deeply cut and with his underlying bones exposed. At the time, my mother was restarting her dental training in the US, and Baba was working graveyard shifts at casinos to make ends meet. Amidst these challenges, Baba now faced another serious battle, as he had extensive nerve damage in his hand and was unemployed due to his injury. Seeing this as a child broke my heart, for the same Baba who guided my right hand when teaching me to write now could not even hold a pencil in his splinted fingers. I longed to somehow alleviate his pain and restore his quality of life, and it became clear that the physician who cared for him had that ability. Through procedures, sutures, and therapy, Baba slowly regained feeling in his fingers and returned to work after years of unemployment. However, it was more than just the treatment that led to Baba’s recovery; the physician’s acts of compassion also fueled his improvement. His ability to offer physical and emotional restoration for my father evoked a desire in me to one day provide the same life-altering services for someone else’s loved one. As I grew older, seeing the wrinkles in Baba’s hand as he tied my hockey skates before youth games and feeling the scar on his palm every time we held hands to say grace constantly reminded me of medicine’s impact on my life. I felt resolved to become a physician and provide this powerful service to others. So, I began my journey by double-majoring in biomedical science and global health, working as a medical transcriptionist, and spearheading the Refugee Education and Clinic Team (REACT) to provide health education, social support, and free medical care to underserved refugees and asylees. While distributing First Aid kits to a refugee community as a REACT leader, I met “Abdul,” who fled the Syrian civil war in 2014. He reminded me of my father’s prior limitations in the way his left leg dragged behind him, and this drove me to schedule him an appointment at our free, student-run medical clinic that I helped open alongside my colleagues at ASU. There, I acted as his patient navigator, understanding his story, interpreting his intake forms, and offering him social services to ease his transition to America. His chronic hip pain left him unemployed, but the concerns on his face vanished when the physician offered a surgical intervention that could allow him to work again, provide for his family, and live without pain. After seeing the hope this brought to Abdul, it became clear that medicine offers the highest level of support to those in need, and nothing is more impactful than its ability to empower and heal. I crave the medical knowledge and skills that physicians have so I can improve people’s lives at the highest level and offer them hope during anguish. In my future practice, I will aim to provide my patients with transformational care, emulating the physicians who served my family and Abdul. One day, I want my hands to be vessels of a well-educated mind and tools for restorative care, whether I use them to perform surgery or touch patients’ shoulders in a gesture of empathy.

My mother’s yell pierced through the morning in Jordan, interrupting the trip to my parents’ homeland. Baba, my father, had just been t-boned by a drunk driver in Nevada and was being rushed to the ER. His car rolled over three times, causing his right hand to be forced through an open window and crushed between the car and the pavement. The accident left his right hand deeply cut and with his underlying bones exposed. At the time, my mother was restarting her dental training in the US, and Baba was working graveyard shifts at casinos to make ends meet. Amidst these challenges, Baba now faced another serious battle, as he had extensive nerve damage in his hand and was unemployed due to his injury. Seeing this as a child broke my heart, for the same Baba who guided my right hand when teaching me to write now could not even hold a pencil in his splinted fingers. I longed to somehow alleviate his pain and restore his quality of life, and it became clear that the orthopedic physician who cared for him had that ability. Through procedures and therapy, Baba slowly regained feeling in his fingers and returned to work after years of unemployment. However, it was more than just the treatment that led to Baba’s recovery; the physician’s acts of compassion also fueled his improvement. His ability to offer physical and emotional restoration for my father evoked a desire in me to one day provide the same life-altering services for someone else’s loved one. As I grew older, seeing the wrinkles in Baba’s hand as he tied my hockey skates before youth games and feeling the scar on his palm when we held hands to say grace constantly reminded me of medicine’s impact on my life. I felt resolved to become an orthopedic physician and provide this powerful service to others. So, I began my journey by studying biomedical science and global health, working as a medical transcriptionist, and spearheading the Refugee Education and Clinic Team (REACT) which provides health education, social support, and free medical care to underserved refugees. While distributing First Aid kits to a refugee community as a REACT leader, I met “Abdul,” who fled the Syrian civil war in 2014. He reminded me of my father’s prior limitations in the way his left leg dragged behind him, and this drove me to schedule him an appointment at our free, student-run medical clinic that I helped open alongside my colleagues at ASU. There, I acted as his patient navigator, understanding his story, interpreting his intake forms, and offering him social services to ease his transition to America. His chronic hip pain left him unemployed, but the concerns on his face vanished when the physician offered a surgical intervention that could allow him to work again, provide for his family, and live without pain. After seeing the hope this brought to Abdul, it became clear that medicine offers the highest level of support to those in need, and nothing is more impactful than its ability to empower and heal. I crave the medical knowledge and skills that orthopedic physicians and surgeons have so I can improve people’s lives at the highest level and offer them hope during anguish. In my future practice, I will aim to provide my patients with transformational care, emulating the doctors who served my family and Abdul. One day, I want my hands to be vessels of a well-educated mind and tools for restorative care, whether I use them to perform life-changing surgery or touch patients’ shoulders in a gesture of empathy.

My mother’s yell pierced through the morning in Jordan, interrupting the trip to my parents’ homeland. Baba, my father, had just been t-boned by a drunk driver in Nevada and was being rushed to the ER. His car rolled over three times, causing his right hand to be forced through an open window and crushed between the car and the pavement. The accident left his right hand deeply cut and with his underlying bones exposed. At the time, my mother was restarting her dental training in the US, and Baba was working graveyard shifts at casinos to make ends meet. Amidst these challenges, Baba now faced another serious battle, as he had extensive nerve damage in his hand and was unemployed due to his injury. Seeing this as a child broke my heart, for the same Baba who guided my right hand when teaching me to write now could not even hold a pencil in his splinted fingers. I longed to somehow alleviate his pain and restore his quality of life, and it became clear that the orthopedic physician who cared for him had that ability. Through procedures and therapy, Baba slowly regained feeling in his fingers and returned to work after years of unemployment. However, it was more than just the treatment that led to Baba’s recovery; the physician’s acts of compassion also fueled his improvement. His ability to offer physical and emotional restoration for my father evoked a desire in me to one day provide the same life-altering services for someone else’s loved one. As I grew older, seeing the wrinkles in Baba’s hand as he tied my hockey skates before youth games and feeling the scar on his palm when we held hands to say grace constantly reminded me of medicine’s impact on my life. I felt resolved to become an orthopedic physician and provide this powerful service to others. So, I began my journey by studying biomedical science and global health, working as a medical transcriptionist, and spearheading the Refugee Education and Clinic Team (REACT) which provides health education, social support, and free medical care to underserved refugees. While distributing First Aid kits to a refugee community as a REACT leader, I met “Abdul,” who fled the Syrian civil war in 2014. He reminded me of my father’s prior limitations in the way his left leg dragged behind him, and this drove me to schedule him an appointment at our free, student-run medical clinic that I helped open alongside my colleagues at ASU. There, I acted as his patient navigator, understanding his story, interpreting his intake forms, and offering him social services to ease his transition to America. His chronic hip pain left him unemployed, but the concerns on his face vanished when the physician offered a surgical intervention that could allow him to work again, provide for his family, and live without pain. After seeing the hope this brought to Abdul, it became clear that medicine offers the highest level of support to those in need, and nothing is more impactful than its ability to empower and heal. I crave the medical knowledge and skills that orthopedic physicians and surgeons have so I can improve people’s lives at the highest level and offer them hope during anguish. In my future practice, I will aim to provide my patients with transformational care, emulating the doctors who served my family and Abdul. One day, I want my hands to be vessels of a well-educated mind and tools for restorative care, whether I use them to perform life-changing surgery or touch patients’ shoulders in a gesture of empathy.

My mother’s yell pierced through the morning in Jordan, interrupting the trip to my parents’ homeland. Baba, my father, had just been t-boned by a drunk driver in Nevada and was being rushed to the ER. His car rolled over three times, causing his right hand to be forced through an open window and crushed between the car and the pavement. The accident left his right hand deeply cut and with his underlying bones exposed. At the time, my mother was restarting her dental training in the US, and Baba was working graveyard shifts at casinos to make ends meet. Amidst these challenges, Baba now faced another serious battle, as he had extensive nerve damage in his hand and was unemployed due to his injury. Seeing this as a child broke my heart, for the same Baba who guided my right hand when teaching me to write now could not even hold a pencil in his splinted fingers. I longed to somehow alleviate his pain and restore his quality of life, and it became clear that the orthopedic physician who cared for him had that ability. Through procedures and therapy, Baba slowly regained feeling in his fingers and returned to work after years of unemployment. However, it was more than just the treatment that led to Baba’s recovery; the physician’s acts of compassion also fueled his improvement. His ability to offer physical and emotional restoration for my father evoked a desire in me to one day provide the same life-altering services for someone else’s loved one. As I grew older, seeing the wrinkles in Baba’s hand as he tied my hockey skates before youth games and feeling the scar on his palm when we held hands to say grace constantly reminded me of medicine’s impact on my life. I felt resolved to become an orthopedic physician and provide this powerful service to others. So, I began my journey by studying biomedical science and global health, working as a medical transcriptionist, and spearheading the Refugee Education and Clinic Team (REACT) which provides health education, social support, and free medical care to underserved refugees. While distributing First Aid kits to a refugee community as a REACT leader, I met “Abdul,” who fled the Syrian civil war in 2014. He reminded me of my father’s prior limitations in the way his left leg dragged behind him, and this drove me to schedule him an appointment at our free, student-run medical clinic that I helped open alongside my colleagues at ASU. There, I acted as his patient navigator, understanding his story, interpreting his intake forms, and offering him social services to ease his transition to America. His chronic hip pain left him unemployed, but the concerns on his face vanished when the physician offered a surgical intervention that could allow him to work again, provide for his family, and live without pain. After seeing the hope this brought to Abdul, it became clear that medicine offers the highest level of support to those in need, and nothing is more impactful than its ability to empower and heal. I crave the medical knowledge and skills that orthopedic physicians and surgeons have so I can improve people’s lives at the highest level and offer them hope during anguish. In my future practice, I will aim to provide my patients with transformational care, emulating the doctors who served my family and Abdul. One day, I want my hands to be vessels of a well-educated mind and tools for restorative care, whether I use them to perform life-changing surgery or touch patients’ shoulders in a gesture of empathy.

My mother’s yell pierced through the morning in Jordan, interrupting the trip to my parents’ homeland. Baba, my father, had just been t-boned by a drunk driver in Nevada and was being rushed to the ER. His car rolled over three times, causing his right hand to be forced through an open window and crushed between the car and the pavement. The accident left his right hand deeply cut and with his underlying bones exposed. At the time, my mother was restarting her dental training in the US, and Baba was working graveyard shifts at casinos to make ends meet. Amidst these challenges, Baba now faced another serious battle, as he had extensive nerve damage in his hand and was unemployed due to his injury. Seeing this as a child broke my heart, for the same Baba who guided my right hand when teaching me to write now could not even hold a pencil in his splinted fingers. I longed to somehow alleviate his pain and restore his quality of life, and it became clear that the physician who cared for him had that ability. Through procedures, sutures, and therapy, Baba slowly regained feeling in his fingers and returned to work after years of unemployment. However, it was more than just the treatment that led to Baba’s recovery; the physician’s acts of compassion also fueled his improvement. His ability to offer physical and emotional restoration for my father evoked a desire in me to one day provide the same life-altering services for someone else’s loved one. As I grew older, seeing the wrinkles in Baba’s hand as he tied my hockey skates before youth games and feeling the scar on his palm every time we held hands to say grace constantly reminded me of medicine’s impact on my life. I felt resolved to become a physician and provide this powerful service to others. So, I began my journey by double-majoring in biomedical science and global health, working as a medical transcriptionist, and spearheading the Refugee Education and Clinic Team (REACT) to provide health education, social support, and free medical care to underserved refugees and asylees. While distributing First Aid kits to a refugee community as a REACT leader, I met “Abdul,” who fled the Syrian civil war in 2014. He reminded me of my father’s prior limitations in the way his left leg dragged behind him, and this drove me to schedule him an appointment at our free, student-run medical clinic that I helped open at alongside my colleagues ASU. There, I acted as his patient navigator, understanding his story, interpreting his intake forms, and offering him social services to ease his transition to America. His chronic hip pain left him unemployed, but the concerns on his face vanished when the physician offered a surgical intervention that could allow him to work again, provide for his family, and live without pain. After seeing the hope this brought to Abdul, it became clear that medicine offers the highest level of support to those in need, and nothing is more impactful than its ability to empower and heal. I crave the medical knowledge and skills that physicians have so I can improve people’s lives at the highest level and offer them hope during anguish. In my future practice, I will aim to provide my patients with transformational care, emulating the physicians who served my family and Abdul. One day, I want my hands to be vessels of a well-educated mind and tools for restorative care, whether I use them to perform surgery or touch patients’ shoulders in a gesture of empathy.

My mother’s yell pierced through the morning in Jordan, interrupting the trip to my parents’ homeland. Baba, my father, had just been t-boned by a drunk driver in Nevada and was being rushed to the ER. His car rolled over three times, causing his right hand to be forced through an open window and crushed between the car and the pavement. The accident left his right hand deeply cut and with his underlying bones exposed. At the time, my mother was restarting her dental training in the US, and Baba was working graveyard shifts at casinos to make ends meet. Amidst these challenges, Baba now faced another serious battle, as he had extensive nerve damage in his hand and was unemployed due to his injury. Seeing this as a child broke my heart, for the same Baba who guided my right hand when teaching me to write now could not even hold a pencil in his splinted fingers. I longed to somehow alleviate his pain and restore his quality of life, and it became clear that the physician who cared for him had that ability. Through procedures, sutures, and therapy, Baba slowly regained feeling in his fingers and returned to work after years of unemployment. However, it was more than just the treatment that led to Baba’s recovery; the physician’s acts of compassion also fueled his improvement. His ability to offer physical and emotional restoration for my father evoked a desire in me to one day provide the same life-altering services for someone else’s loved one. As I grew older, seeing the wrinkles in Baba’s hand as he tied my hockey skates before youth games and feeling the scar on his palm every time we held hands to say grace constantly reminded me of medicine’s impact on my life. I felt resolved to become a physician and provide this powerful service to others. So, I began my journey by double-majoring in biomedical science and global health, working as a medical transcriptionist, and spearheading the Refugee Education and Clinic Team (REACT) to provide health education, social support, and free medical care to underserved refugees and asylees. While distributing First Aid kits to a refugee community as a REACT leader, I met “Abdul,” who fled the Syrian civil war in 2014. He reminded me of my father’s prior limitations in the way his left leg dragged behind him, and this drove me to schedule him an appointment at our free, student-run medical clinic that I helped open at alongside my colleagues ASU. There, I acted as his patient navigator, understanding his story, interpreting his intake forms, and offering him social services to ease his transition to America. His chronic hip pain left him unemployed, but the concerns on his face vanished when the physician offered a surgical intervention that could allow him to work again, provide for his family, and live without pain. After seeing the hope this brought to Abdul, it became clear that medicine offers the highest level of support to those in need, and nothing is more impactful than its ability to empower and heal. I crave the medical knowledge and skills that physicians have so I can improve people’s lives at the highest level and offer them hope during anguish. In my future practice, I will aim to provide my patients with transformational care, emulating the physicians who served my family and Abdul. One day, I want my hands to be vessels of a well-educated mind and tools for restorative care, whether I use them to perform surgery or touch patients’ shoulders in a gesture of empathy.