1. I’m grateful for my chronic illness. Yes, it’s hard to keep up with my peers who seem to have a never-ending supply of energy and don’t have to follow a strict conditioning schedule in order to hold their joints together. But I’ve learned that sometimes you just have to work harder than those around you. The symptoms I endure aren’t pleasant, but my condition is simply a challenge I must overcome each day, and I like being challenged. When I’m challenged, I grow. I become more resilient, independent, and confident in my abilities. I thrive when I’m challenged. This is something I learned from dance. I was often placed in classes with girls several years older than me, and I found these to be the ones I improved most in. It didn’t matter that I had years less experience than them; it only meant I had to work harder if I wanted to keep up with them, and I did. And then I tore my hip labrum, the doctor told me I had to stop dancing, and I started the process of physical therapy to get back to doing what I loved. Shortly after, there was an overall decline in my health, diagnoses were made, and my cardiologist was telling me I could never dance again. The one thing I’d spent my entire childhood training in was taken away. My parents have always taught me to think logically, rather than emotionally. Consequently, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I considered the fact that although there is no cure for my disorder, there are ways to manage the many symptoms, and got to work. Countless medical appointments, physical therapists, and training hours later, I’m now the captain of my high school’s dance team. I’m still not back to the level of competitiveness I once was at in dance, but I continue to work towards it daily. My years of hard work have given me things beyond the ability to dance again. Playing guitar is one of them. I decided to teach myself how to play because I wanted something I could work towards on the days I didn’t feel well enough for physical activity. Now, I get to share my love of music, which stemmed from the musicality of dance, with my family and friends. I believe there is something to be learned from every situation I’m put in. From Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, I’ve learned I’m capable of getting through hard things. From consistently having to complete tasks I don’t feel up to doing, I’ve developed a strong sense of discipline. I’ve learned to be more understanding towards others, because I appear to be normal and healthy to those who don’t know me well. I’ve learned that everyone has their own hardships they must face each day, and these hardships aren’t always visible. I may not know what someone is going through, but I can try to make a positive impact on them, no matter how small, no matter who they are. The drama that inevitably occurs throughout high school became meaningless after my diagnosis. I no longer have the energy for matters like this, nor do I have interest in them. I’ve gained focus on the things I feel are truly important: God, the people I love, and my future. I’ll continue to take on challenges, either willingly or due to my genetic predisposition to them. The ones I conquer daily tell me that I can continue to overcome more in my future. Whether this is medical school or some other challenging profession, I know I’ll get through it and thrive. 2. This past summer, I completed an unpaid internship at St. Tammany Parish Hospital. I gained nearly twenty shadow hours across seven different departments of the hospital. I recorded my observations and, at the end of this experience, presented them to the other students in the program. I find myself thinking about the time I spent shadowing in the hospital often. It truly had a significant impact on the way I view others and life in general. One thing that I learned almost immediately was the magnitude of the impact healthcare workers can have on people when they are most vulnerable—as patients. I observed how simple displays of kindness when interacting with a patient, such as a compliment or joke, profusely brightened their moods despite the pain they were in. I feel that medicine is one of the only professions where it is possible to make such an impact on someone because it is one of the only professions where you are dealing with people in such an exposed and fragile state. I also learned about the beauty and tragedy of the medical field. I encountered patients who had made full recoveries and were being discharged and heard the death rattle of a patient who was about to pass. Being in a hospital, surrounded by birth and death and joy and suffering and peace and fear, I came to understand how precious and fleeting life really is. I realized how much we take for granted. The simple abilities to walk, breathe on our own, talk, laugh, and see are things that some people do not have and certainly things that I have taken for granted. Seeing the patients made me realize how insignificant some of the things in my life that I consider to be hardships are. This experience gave me a renewed sense of gratitude for my life. It also gave me an overwhelming desire to work hard so that I can one day help these patients myself. Ultimately, this experience confirmed my decision to go into healthcare. I felt an inexplicable and undeniable sense of belonging during my time in the hospital. I feel that I am called to take on the challenge of a career in medicine. My dream of becoming a doctor one day has always been a constant, unchanging piece of me, but I have never felt so confident in it as I did during this program. I will do everything in my power to accomplish my goal of becoming a physician.