On patient survey #200 in Guatemala, I marked the time—1830. Strange how 12 hours could fly by. It was the same in Peru, Colombia, Haiti, Honduras, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic—wherever I went. As long as I was assisting patients, my fatigue was subdued by joy as I interacted with them and saw their smiles. These moments, caring for people with limited resources, helped me understand something the Navy first awakened in me: my purpose runs deeper than duty—it’s about human connection. For ten years, I served as a Surface Warfare Officer (SWO) in the United States Navy. I navigated billion-dollar warships through peaceful and hostile waters, led combat operations, and managed intricate administrative systems. But beneath the tactics and machinery, what shaped me most was caring for my Sailors. Their physical and emotional well-being became my deepest responsibility. I remember one day vividly: as another six-foot wave struck our 74-foot patrol boat, I lost the remainder of my breakfast to the Eastern Pacific. That day, my team and I rotated through watch stations, provided security escorts, and battled unrelenting seasickness—but despite the brutal conditions, our search and rescue mission remained our priority. We persevered through illness, dehydration, and exhaustion because we had no choice. Yet, as miserable as we felt, I took pride in ensuring my Sailors had what they needed to push forward. My greatest responsibility as a Naval Officer was and always will be to protect and prepare my team, but I learned early that true readiness is not just physical; true readiness is more holistic and requires a deep understanding of each individual’s mind, body, and spirit. That shift in self-perception—from strategist to caregiver—laid the foundation for who I am today. The military didn’t just give me skills; it reshaped my identity. It taught me that leadership isn’t about barking orders from the bridge—it’s about showing up in people’s lives when it matters most, and that realization is what pushed me to pursue medicine. Now, as a medical student studying osteopathic medicine, I’ve found a path that blends my Navy values with clinical compassion. Osteopathic manipulative treatment (OMT)—a hands-on, drug-free approach to healing—resonates deeply with my military experience, especially the reality of caring for people in austere, resource-limited environments. I hope to bring this training back to the fleet, where physicians are often the only lifeline for Sailors far from home. Serving in uniform also transformed how I view my country. I’ve seen its strength—but also its gaps. I’ve treated U.S. citizens who couldn’t afford health care, worked with Sailors who couldn’t afford off-base treatments, and volunteered in underserved communities within the USA like the Rosebud Indian Reservation, where families live hours from medical attention. I’ve supported veterans with Parkinson’s disease and consoled disaster victims in my Florida community as a Red Cross volunteer. These experiences have taught me that patriotism isn't blind allegiance—it’s a commitment to keep improving the country we serve. The military gave me pride in our nation’s ideals but also the humility to recognize where we fall short and the responsibility to make it better. The transition from SWO to DO has not been easy. Navigating VA bureaucracy, struggling with delays in benefits, and facing the financial weight of medical school have tested me. But they’ve also reinforced the very lessons the military taught me: resilience, purpose, and service. I no longer see myself as just a former officer or a future doctor—I see myself as someone molded by both worlds, driven to serve the people behind the mission.

As another six-foot wave struck our 74-foot patrol boat, I lost the remainder of my breakfast to the Eastern Pacific. That day, my team and I rotated through watch stations, provided security escorts, and battled unrelenting seasickness—but despite the brutal conditions, our search and rescue mission remained our priority. We persevered through illness, dehydration, and exhaustion because we had no choice. Yet, as miserable as we felt, I took pride in ensuring my Sailors had what they needed to push forward. My greatest responsibility as a Naval Officer was and always will be to protect and prepare my team, but I learned early that true readiness is not just physical; true readiness is more holistic and requires a deep understanding of each individual’s mind, body, and spirit. This philosophy is what drew me to osteopathic medicine. Whether leading Sailors in high-risk operations or coaching clients as a certified personal trainer, my approach has always been holistic and all-encompassing. I strive to understand what drives a person, what hinders them, and how I can help them perform at their best. However, I have repeatedly encountered frustrating limitations in my previous career paths that made me realize becoming a DO was the next step! For instance, as a Surface Warfare Officer, I have escorted Sailors to medical providers, wanting to advocate for them but lacking the credentials to do so. As a fitness coach and corrective exercise specialist, I have guided clients through physical transformations and hands-off corrective treatments but have been bound by legal constraints concerning hands-on treatment. I knew something was missing! My first exposure to osteopathic medicine was during my 2017-2018 deployment aboard the USS THEODORE ROOSEVELT, where I shadowed the ship’s medical team. I saw how DOs seamlessly integrated physical structure with medical treatment, embodying the holistic approach I had unconsciously applied throughout my career. Later, during my humanitarian deployment on the USNS COMFORT, I assisted in patient assessments across five countries, witnessing how osteopathic principles could bridge cultural and socioeconomic healthcare gaps. These experiences solidified my belief that osteopathic medicine is not just a profession but a calling—one that perfectly aligns with my lifelong mission to care for others beyond just their physical health. Now, as a medical student and future medical officer, I continue to embody the core tenets of osteopathic medicine. For example, in my leadership role within the Student American Academy of Osteopathy, I advocate for holistic patient care, the practice of osteopathic manipulative techniques, and community engagement. Through my work with Rock Steady Parkinson’s, I assist patients in movement-based rehabilitation, reaffirming my belief in the body’s innate ability to heal when given the right support. Just as I have always strived to know my Sailors beyond their rank and uniform, I will strive to know my patients beyond their symptoms and diagnoses. Becoming an osteopathic physician is the natural evolution of my purpose—to serve, heal, and lead by treating each individual as a whole person.

As I carried supplies to the medical site that we had built in Guatemala, sweat pouring down my back, I paused in shock at the hundreds of Guatemalan citizens who stood in line, after waiting all night, to see a free U.S. Navy doctor for OPERATION CONTINUING PROMISE 2022. While each country we visited (Haiti, Honduras, Colombia, Cuba, and Guatemala) had its various cultural, political, and socioeconomic differences, it was humbling to witness the common theme of gratitude among patients of each country. If asked to choose my favorite part about being an Officer in the United States Navy, my heartfelt answer would be the opportunity to travel and experience different cultures, perspectives, and environments around the world because each presents an opportunity to grow in perspective and understanding while discovering one’s life purpose and/or reaffirming it! For example, during my winter 2024 holiday, I had the honor of volunteering with the non-profit, A Broader View (ABV), at a government health clinic in Cusco, Peru named “Centro de Salud Class TTIO'' while living with a Peruvian host family. Each day during my month-long commitment, I worked in various sections of the clinic, where Spanish and Quechua were the two primary languages, which allowed me to support whatever providers required assistance and help where it was needed most. Thus, I often volunteered in triage where I supported a single nurse (whose grateful smile I’ll never forget) in the reception and assessment of hundreds of patients each day, recording all relevant information in Spanish. In the evenings, I explored the city and interacted with the locals and other visitors. Not only did these experiences improve my Spanish (and Portuguese which was spoken widely by tourists), but they also exposed me to the Quechua language and culture. In doing so, I learned of Peru’s complicated history of conquest from the Incan Empire to Spanish Conquistadors, which influenced all aspects of Peruvian culture from politics and religion to food and dress! Furthermore, while I learned of many socioeconomic, political, and cultural differences between Peru and the United States, I also found many similarities that helped me build bridges, develop my problem-solving skills, and reaffirm my purpose–to give back to my community as a future medical student and doctor. Specifically, I had an interaction in Spanish with an elderly woman, where I complimented her scarf while she was in triage. Two hours later, she returned and presented me with the scarf, now wrapped in brown paper, as a gift of gratitude for my work. This kindness among others of Peru’s population and other populations I have traveled to deeply moved me and will remain forever in my heart as a part of the impetus that fuels me to not only become a doctor but to also continue the chain of kindness (via medicine) in return for the kindness given to me in each place I traveled to.

When reminiscing over my last ten years of service as a Surface Warfare Officer (SWO) in the United States Navy, many moments come to mind that have impacted me as I traveled between duty stations in California, Guam, Virginia, and Florida and made my way to the rank of Lieutenant. -Projectile vomiting the remainder of my breakfast into the Eastern Pacific as another six-foot wave hit our 74 ft MKVI patrol boat. Despite the intense sea state, our search and rescue mission that day took precedence. Thus, we all took turns rotating through watch stations, acting as escorts, and hurling our guts out. We persevered in the face of it all, still accomplishing our mission, and I distinctly remember how proud I was of my Sailors–my team. -Sweat pouring down my back as I carried supplies to the medical site that we had built in Guatemala. For a moment, I stood in quiet shock as I gazed upon hundreds of Guatemalan citizens standing in line, after waiting all night, to see a free U.S. Navy doctor for OPERATION CONTINUING PROMISE 2022. It was humbling to hear how grateful each one was as they departed the medical site, and I distinctly remember how proud I was of my country and for serving these people in need. -Anxiety creeping up my spine as I led an entire Carrier Strike Group, all 15,000 Sailors of various ethnicities, races, and creeds on board their respective ships and aircraft, through a wargame and commanded, “Engage track DW103!” The explosions boomed as the torpedoes hit their target, sinking the 52-man submarine. While the instructor nudged my arm and said with a jovial smile, “Congratulations, you passed,” my stomach sank with that submarine and the thought of the 52 people I had sacrificed to save 15,000. Even though it was only an exercise, I distinctly remember how humbled I was by the heavy burden of deciding who lives and who dies. -Anguish stabbing my heart as I recall the faces of fellows lost: my Chief who overdosed after his wife issued divorce papers, my ship’s Chaplain who jumped overboard during our 10-month deployment, a fellow Lieutenant who shot himself in the face–too many too soon. Each loss ignited a fiery combination of rage, grief, and fear within me, and I distinctly remember how these blazing torrents of emotion fueled me to never relent. For example, I spend 100+ hours a year working to improve veteran mental health and disaster relief services with the American Red Cross while also providing low-cost/flexible housing options within my own home for active duty/veterans within my local community. Through all of these moments, I learned that my favorite thing about being a Naval Officer is ensuring the well-being of my Sailors by approaching each Sailor from a holistic perspective. What motivates them? What sustains them? What is going on in their mind, body, and spirit? As a result, I feel that I can best achieve this goal of holistic Sailor care as a doctor, which is why I am pursuing medical school via the Navy’s Health Services Collegiate Program. Upon graduation from Burrell College of Osteopathic Medicine, I will return to the fleet as a Naval Medical Officer ready to combine the tactical and medical realms to better serve Sailors and those in need around the world. I plan to volunteer for every humanitarian mission available, and after my 20-year service commitment to the Navy is complete, I will retire but continue to serve underserved communities around the world with no expectation of payment.

15 years ago, I applied to Navy ROTC to fund my college education and the subsequent education of my three younger siblings, and I am deeply grateful that I did. When reminiscing over my last ten years of service as a Surface Warfare Officer (SWO) in the United States Navy, many moments come to mind . . . -Projectile vomiting the remainder of my breakfast into the Eastern Pacific as another six-foot wave hit our 74 ft MKVI patrol boat. Despite the intense sea state, our search and rescue mission that day took precedence. Thus, we all took turns rotating through watch stations, acting as escorts, and hurling our guts out. We persevered in the face of illness, dehydration, heat exhaustion, etc. but still accomplished our mission, and I distinctly remember how proud I was of my Sailors–my team. -Sweat pouring down my back as I carried supplies to the medical site that we had built in Guatemala. For a moment, I stood in quiet shock as I gazed upon hundreds of Guatemalan citizens standing in line, after waiting all night, to see a free U.S. Navy doctor for OPERATION CONTINUING PROMISE 2022. It was humbling to hear how grateful each one was as they departed the medical site, and I distinctly remember how proud I was of my country and for serving these people in need. -Anxiety creeping up my spine as I led an entire Carrier Strike Group, all 15,000 Sailors of various ethnicities, races, and creeds on board their respective ships and aircraft, through a wargame and commanded, “Engage track DW103!” The explosions boomed as the torpedoes hit their target, sinking the 52-man submarine. While the instructor nudged my arm and said with a jovial smile, “Congratulations, you passed,” my stomach sank with that submarine and the thought of the 52 people I had sacrificed to save 15,000. Even though it was only an exercise, I distinctly remember how humbled I was by the heavy burden of deciding who lives and who dies. -Anguish stabbing my heart as I recall the faces of fellows lost: my Chief who overdosed after his wife issued divorce papers, my ship’s Chaplain who jumped overboard during our 10-month deployment, a fellow Lieutenant who shot himself in the face–too many too soon. Each loss ignited a fiery combination of rage, grief, and fear within me, and I distinctly remember how these blazing torrents of emotion fueled me to never relent. Through all of these moments, I’ve learned that my favorite thing about being a Naval Officer is ensuring the well-being and readiness of my Sailors to accomplish missions; however, this is impossible to do without approaching each Sailor from a holistic perspective. What motivates them? What sustains them? What is going on in their mind, body, and spirit? As a result, I feel that I can best achieve this goal of holistic Sailor care as a doctor, which is why I am pursuing medical school via the Navy’s Health Services Collegiate Program. Upon graduation from Burrell College of Osteopathic Medicine, I will return to naval service as a Naval Medical Officer ready to combine the tactical and medical realms to better serve Sailors and those in need around the world. I plan to volunteer for every humanitarian mission available, and after my 20-year service commitment to the Navy is complete, I will retire but continue to serve underserved communities around the world with no expectation of payment thanks to my Navy pension. Thus, I thank my siblings for this life of service that they inspired 15 years ago.

When reminiscing over my last ten years of service as a Surface Warfare Officer (SWO) in the United States Navy, many moments come to mind . . .  -Projectile vomiting the remainder of my breakfast into the Eastern Pacific as another six-foot wave hit our 74 ft MKVI patrol boat. I tapped the hand holding the shoulder of my Kevlar vest to signal “all done” to my escort, and we returned inside. Despite the intense sea state, our search and rescue mission that day took precedence. Thus, we all took turns rotating through watch stations, acting as escorts, and hurling our guts out. We persevered in the face of illness, dehydration, heat exhaustion, etc. but still accomplished our mission, and I distinctly remember how proud I was of my Sailors–my team. -Sweat pouring down my back as I carried supplies to the medical site that we had built in Guatemala. For a moment, I stood in quiet shock as I gazed upon hundreds of Guatemalan citizens standing in line, after waiting all night, to see a free U.S. Navy doctor for OPERATION CONTINUING PROMISE 2022. As a data collections officer, I had the opportunity to speak with many of those patients; it was humbling to hear how grateful each one was as they departed the medical site, and I distinctly remember how proud I was of my country and for serving these people in need.  -Anxiety creeping up my spine as I led an entire Carrier Strike Group, all 15,000 Sailors of various ethnicities, races, and creeds on board their respective ships and aircraft, through a wargame and commanded, “Engage track DW103!” The explosions boomed as the torpedoes hit their target, sinking the 52-man submarine. While the instructor nudged my arm and said with a jovial smile, “Congratulations, you passed! We trust you to keep these men and women safe while deployed,” my stomach sank with that submarine and the thought of the 52 people I had sacrificed to save 15,000. Even though it was only an exercise, I distinctly remember how humbled I was by the heavy burden of deciding who lives and who dies. -Anguish stabbing my heart as I recall the faces of fellows lost: my Chief who overdosed after his wife issued divorce papers, my ship’s Chaplain who jumped overboard during our 10-month deployment, a fellow Lieutenant who shot himself in the face–too many too soon. Each loss ignited a fiery combination of rage, grief, and fear within me, and I distinctly remember how these blazing torrents of emotion fueled me to never relent. Through all of these moments, I’ve learned that my favorite thing about being a Naval Officer is ensuring the well-being and readiness of my Sailors to accomplish missions; however, this is impossible to do without approaching each Sailor from a holistic perspective. What motivates them? What sustains them? What is going on in their mind, body, and spirit? As a result, I feel that I can best achieve this goal of holistic Sailor care as a doctor, which is why I am pursuing medical school via the Navy’s Health Services Collegiate Program. Upon graduation from Burrell College of Osteopathic Medicine, I will return to the fleet as a Naval Medical Officer ready to combine the tactical and medical realms to better serve Sailors and those in need around the world. I plan to volunteer for every humanitarian mission available, and after my 20-year service commitment to the Navy is complete, I will retire but continue to serve underserved communities around the world with no expectation of payment.

When reminiscing over my last ten years of service as a Surface Warfare Officer (SWO) in the United States Navy, many moments come to mind . . . -As another 6 ft wave hit our 74 ft MKVI patrol boat, I projectile vomited the remainder of my breakfast into the Eastern Pacific. That day, we all took turns rotating through watch stations, acting as escorts, and hurling our guts out, but despite the intense sea state, our search and rescue mission took precedence. We persevered in the face of physical stressors (illness, dehydration, heat exhaustion) but still accomplished our mission, and I distinctly remember how proud I was of my Sailors–my team. -As I carried supplies, sweat pouring down my back, I took a moment to take in the scene at the medical site that we had built in Guatemala. Hundreds of Guatemalan citizens stood in line, after waiting all night, to see a free U.S. Navy doctor for OPERATION CONTINUING PROMISE (OP CP) 2022. As a data collections officer, it was humbling to hear how grateful each patient was as they departed the medical site, and I distinctly remember how proud I was to serve these people in need. -As I see the faces of fellows lost, the anguish still vividly imprinted upon my soul: my Chief who overdosed on medication after his wife issued divorce papers, my ship’s Chaplain who jumped overboard during our 10-month deployment, my fellow LT and friend who shot himself in the head while parked in his car, and I distinctly remember how the pain of each loss fueled me to never give up. -As I led the entire Carrier Strike Group, all 15,000 Sailors of various ethnicities, races, creeds, and religions on board their respective ships and aircraft, through an anti-submarine wargame, I commanded, “Engage track DW103!” Explosions boomed. The torpedoes hit their target; the 52-man submarine sank. The instructor nudged my arm and said with a jovial smile, “Congratulations, you passed! We trust you to keep these men and women safe while deployed.” Even though it was only an exercise, I distinctly remember how humbled I was by the heavy burden of deciding who lives and who dies. Through all of these moments, I’ve learned that my favorite thing about being a Naval Officer is ensuring the well-being and readiness of my Sailors to accomplish missions; however, this is impossible to do without approaching each Sailor from a holistic perspective. What motivates them? What sustains them? What is going on in their mind, body, and spirit? As a result, I feel that I can best achieve this goal of holistic Sailor care as a doctor, which is why I am pursuing medical school via the Navy’s Health Services Collegiate Program. Upon graduation from Burrell College of Osteopathic Medicine, I will return to the fleet as a Naval Medical Officer ready to combine the tactical and medical realms to better serve Sailors and those in need around the world. I plan to volunteer for every humanitarian mission available, and after my 20 year service commitment to the Navy is complete, I will retire but continue to serve underserved communities around the world with no expectation of payment.

When reminiscing over my last ten years of service as a Surface Warfare Officer (SWO) in the United States Navy, many moments come to mind . . . -As another 6 ft wave hit our 74 ft MKVI patrol boat, I projectile vomited the remainder of my breakfast into the Eastern Pacific. That day, we all took turns rotating through watch stations, acting as escorts, and hurling our guts out, but despite the intense sea state, our search and rescue mission took precedence. We persevered in the face of physical stressors (illness, dehydration, heat exhaustion) but still accomplished our mission, and I distinctly remember how proud I was of my Sailors–my team. -As I carried supplies, sweat pouring down my back, I took a moment to take in the scene at the medical site that we had built in Guatemala. Hundreds of Guatemalan citizens stood in line, after waiting all night, to see a free U.S. Navy doctor for OPERATION CONTINUING PROMISE (OP CP) 2022. As a data collections officer, it was humbling to hear how grateful each patient was as they departed the medical site, and I distinctly remember how proud I was to serve these people in need. -As I see the faces of fellows lost, the anguish still vividly imprinted upon my soul: my Chief who overdosed on medication after his wife issued divorce papers, my ship’s Chaplain who jumped overboard during our 10-month deployment, my fellow LT and friend who shot himself in the head while parked in his car, and I distinctly remember how the pain of each loss fueled me to never give up. -As I led the entire Carrier Strike Group, all 15,000 Sailors of various ethnicities, races, creeds, and religions on board their respective ships and aircraft, through an anti-submarine wargame, I commanded, “Engage track DW103!” Explosions boomed. The torpedoes hit their target; the 52-man submarine sank. The instructor nudged my arm and said with a jovial smile, “Congratulations, you passed! We trust you to keep these men and women safe while deployed.” Even though it was only an exercise, I distinctly remember how humbled I was by the heavy burden of deciding who lives and who dies. Through all of these moments, I’ve learned that my favorite thing about being a Naval Officer is ensuring the well-being and readiness of my Sailors to accomplish missions; however, this is impossible to do without approaching each Sailor from a holistic perspective. What motivates them? What sustains them? What is going on in their mind, body, and spirit? As a result, I feel that I can best achieve this goal of holistic Sailor care as a doctor, which is why I am pursuing medical school via the Navy’s Health Services Collegiate Program. Upon graduation from Burrell College of Osteopathic Medicine, I will return to the fleet as a Naval Medical Officer ready to combine the tactical and medical realms to better serve Sailors and those in need around the world. I plan to volunteer for every humanitarian mission available, and after my 20 year service commitment to the Navy is complete, I will retire but continue to serve underserved communities around the world with no expectation of payment.