Abuse of a Heart I already said no, no more My heart is heavy in my chest Weighs on me pulling down on my shoulders and my spirits I already said no, no more It pounds in my chest and echoes to my ears Now is the time, we are breaking up I already said no, no more When the leaves fluttered off the trees in early November Choosing holidays alone over your embrace The taste of your words sicken my stomach too much No I can’t hear it no more I already said no, no more Three torturous years while I strained out a smile Such a perfect pair everyone would say I loved the idea, music to my mind Such a perfect pair, yeah sure No, no more I already said no, no more No more I hate you No more insults No more abuse Let me find the strength to heal Let me find the strength to regain the confidence Let me find the strength to forget how you tore me down Let me find the strength to say it again No, no more I already said no, no more You didn’t have to hit me to hurt me Asshole, Bitch, Jerk and Slut Coddled with Gorgeous, Perfect, Important and Smart You dodged all responsibility And then you found the audacity to ask “Can I get another chance?” One, Two, Three, Four Hundred and More “Can I get another chance?” I already said no, no more.

I exist because of the song “I Hope You Dance,” written by Lee Ann Womack. In 1997, my mom had an ectopic pregnancy bursting her only functioning fallopian tube. Crying to a fertility doctor, she begged for a way to have biological children. The doctor suggested in vitro fertilization (IVF), but it was not covered by insurance. My parents were in their twenties and knew that this could ruin them financially. After trying several times, they had no luck, no more hope and no more money. As my mom drove back from her unsuccessful appointment, she heard this song. The lyrics say “When you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance.” In that moment she decided to try one more time. My dad’s mother helped financially because they had nothing left, but this was important. With this final procedure I was conceived, their miracle baby. My whole family is indebted to modern medicine for the role it has played in our lives. I have seen so evidently the power of medicine through a helping hand. My grandmother’s helping hand allowed my parents to fulfill their dreams, and ultimately allows me to fulfill mine. My career goal is to become a physician, and to give back to the healthcare system that allowed me to be here today. I have 5000 hours of experience serving patients as an EMT, which led to a successful application to 10 professional programs. I was accepted into medical school this year, and will continue on this exciting journey from 2023-2027. As a physician, I have a unique opportunity to make a difference in many patients' lives. Marginalized communities face worsened outcomes in nearly every medical ailment. One social determinant of health that is specifically important to me is language barriers. There is a large population of United States residents that monolingually speak Spanish. Latinos often fear healthcare because they cannot communicate their needs fully. This fear leads them to delay seeking care, causing a decrease in their health. While interpreter services help combat this barrier, there is a disconnect between patient and practitioner. I yearn to address this issue because my family is Cuban. In 2019, I visited Cuba, assisting my relatives’ immigration as refugees. Conditions in their home country were terrible. My cousins had to boil their water daily and fill buckets since the water shuts off nightly. The United States allows my family to have access to much better conditions, but they remain disadvantaged. Hispanic Americans are more likely to live in poverty, which further contributes to decreased health outcomes. As a future bilingual physician, I can offer accessible care. I am interested in using my career for outreach to my Hispanic community

I exist because of the song “I Hope You Dance,” written by Lee Ann Womack. In 1997, my mom had an ectopic pregnancy bursting her only functioning fallopian tube. Crying to a fertility doctor, she begged for a way to have biological children. The doctor suggested in vitro fertilization (IVF), but it was not covered by insurance. My parents were in their twenties and knew that this could ruin them financially. After trying several times, they had no luck, no more hope and no more money. As my mom drove back from her unsuccessful appointment, she heard this song. The lyrics say “When you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance.” In that moment she decided to try one more time. My dad’s mother helped financially because they had nothing left, but this was important. With this final procedure I was conceived, their miracle baby. My whole family is indebted to modern medicine for the role it has played in our lives. I have seen so evidently the power of medicine through a helping hand. My grandmother’s helping hand allowed my parents to fulfill their dreams, and ultimately allows me to fulfill mine. My career goal is to become a physician, and to give back to the healthcare system that allowed me to be here today. I have 5000 hours of experience serving patients as an EMT, which led to a successful application to 10 professional programs. I was accepted into medical school this year, and will continue on this exciting journey from 2023-2027.

Coming from a small town, fostering a strong community is very important for where I choose to attend medical school. As an EMT and a firefighter, I often know the patient I am serving, since the community is very connected with one another. This connection is important to the type of medicine I wish to practice as a physician. My most significant contribution to the community is my service through the Lebanon Volunteer Fire Department. I have now responded to four cardiac arrests, alongside many motor vehicle accidents, structure fires, and other medical or fire calls. This experience has developed my ability to manage stressful situations, my bedside manner, and my knowledge of how to care for a person in need. In the community, I notice the impact of my contribution when I see my previous patients walking around town, healthy and thriving. The Lebanon Volunteer Fire Department was honored as the “Citizen of the Year” of 2020 because of the magnitude of the positive impact on the community by our small group of responders. One example case that has stuck with me was a man we will call Joe. I was dispatched to a 78-year-old man, “Joe,” who fell out of bed. We arrived on the scene to find him, seated on the bedroom floor. He was cheerful and alert, “I’m over here. I just can’t get my legs under me from this position.” As part of lift assist protocol, the patient is thoroughly assessed before they are assisted back into bed. Joe denied any pain or shortness of breath. However, I palpated an irregular pulse of 205 beats per minute (bpm). We called a medic for additional help. The patient regularly experienced atrial fibrillation, so the medic initially determined that the patient could be transported without sirens. After a repeat EKG, we saw that Joe was having an ST elevation myocardial infarction (STEMI). It is easy to fixate on the reason he called and assume that Joe merely needed assistance getting back to bed. Joe never experienced pain, nausea or shortness of breath. A STEMI was not originally on our radar for possible conditions. We upgraded the transport to lights and sirens and diverted to a specialized cardiac facility. As a physician, I will continue to reflect on cases like Joe’s, remembering to combat tunnel vision and reflecting on how transient a patient’s health may be. When we were almost at the hospital, Joe’s blood pressure plummeted. I applied the defibrillator pads to his chest and briefly explained cardioversion to Joe, who was surprisingly alert. After the shock, Joe’s pulse returned to a regular rhythm and his blood pressure normalized. Joe is alive and well today. Caring for Joe showed how quickly a patient's condition can change, as well as how necessary a thorough investigation is for every patient. Joe continues to inspire my involvement with the community to this day.

I left home in 2019. I knew I would miss being close to family, but I visited frequently on school breaks. However, I regularly faced the dilemma of how to balance my career development and education with life adversities. I was sexually assaulted early on in college, making it difficult to embrace community activities and adapt to the new place. I filed a police report and went to the hospital, but neither helped me overcome this challenge. I reached out to form new friends. I saw it as a sink-or-swim scenario, and I chose to continue on my path. I focused on my education and started volunteering at the Ronald McDonald House. I had the opportunity to help others who were coping with the illness of their child. I had a new perspective on adversity, and I was grateful for my opportunities. I wanted to cherish my time at school and make as many memories as possible. At the beginning of 2020 I had adopted this new outlook. Then in February, my grandmother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I took the first flight to visit her. I spent two days in Florida by her side, listening to her life experiences through her stories. It was our last opportunity to connect, but we had no warning that she was even ill. She only lived for a week after diagnosis. Unlike the long journey my grandfather went through while I was in high school, my grandmother died suddenly. I had experienced both the pain of prolonged hospice, as well as sudden unexpected death. During spring break, I attended her funeral. My mom was especially upset; losing her mother meant losing the woman solely responsible for raising her. My grandmother was very active in her community, serving veterans and senior centers. However, there was hardly anyone at her funeral. COVID-19 prohibited her dearest friends from attending, as they were also elderly. The empty church only increased the emotional toll on my mother. I struggled to find a compromise where I could excel in my coursework in one state and support my immediate family members in another state. I did not want them to worry about me, so I had even more motivation to succeed. Most recently, my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. While hers was much less advanced, I had already lost two family members. I took it very seriously, and it hit me hard emotionally. I attended her doctor’s appointments with her, and visited the hospital when she had a lobectomy. It was during the summer, so I was fortunate to be home to tend to my younger siblings. At the same time, my father had an emergency surgery when his retina detached. Throughout my undergraduate years, I have accepted the challenge of balancing my career development with caring for my family. I prioritized caring for those I loved without sacrificing my future. Despite my recurring dilemma, I learned how to support my family while progressing toward my career as a physician. Medical education is a long journey, with schooling, residency, and fellowship. I found it fitting to review my journey so far as a challenge. Work-life balance is essential for a physician. My effective maintenance of this balance is an important skill for medical school. I kept my mind set on my end goal, and I did not want to use any of the tragedies of my life as an excuse. I wanted to prove to myself that nothing can hold me back when I set my mind to it. I will overcome adversity to follow through with my dreams.

I left home in 2019. I knew I would miss being close to family, but I visited frequently on school breaks. However, I regularly faced the dilemma of how to balance my career development and education with life adversities. I was sexually assaulted early on in college, making it difficult to embrace community activities and adapt to the new place. I filed a police report and went to the hospital, but neither helped me overcome this challenge. I reached out to form new friends. I saw it as a sink-or-swim scenario, and I chose to continue on my path. I focused on my education and started volunteering at the Ronald McDonald House. I had the opportunity to help others who were coping with the illness of their child. I had a new perspective on adversity, and I was grateful for my opportunities. I wanted to cherish my time at school and make as many memories as possible. At the beginning of 2020 I had adopted this new outlook. Then in February, my grandmother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I took the first flight to visit her. I spent two days in Florida by her side, listening to her life experiences through her stories. It was our last opportunity to connect, but we had no warning that she was even ill. She only lived for a week after diagnosis. Unlike the long journey my grandfather went through while I was in high school, my grandmother died suddenly. I had experienced both the pain of prolonged hospice, as well as sudden unexpected death. During spring break, I attended her funeral. My mom was especially upset; losing her mother meant losing the woman solely responsible for raising her. My grandmother was very active in her community, serving veterans and senior centers. However, there was hardly anyone at her funeral. COVID-19 prohibited her dearest friends from attending, as they were also elderly. The empty church only increased the emotional toll on my mother. I struggled to find a compromise where I could excel in my coursework in one state and support my immediate family members in another state. I did not want them to worry about me, so I had even more motivation to succeed. Most recently, my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. While hers was much less advanced, I had already lost two family members. I took it very seriously, and it hit me hard emotionally. I attended her doctor’s appointments with her, and visited the hospital when she had a lobectomy. It was during the summer, so I was fortunate to be home to tend to my younger siblings. At the same time, my father had an emergency surgery when his retina detached. Throughout my undergraduate years, I have accepted the challenge of balancing my career development with caring for my family. I prioritized caring for those I loved without sacrificing my future. Despite my recurring dilemma, I learned how to support my family while progressing toward my career as a physician. Medical education is a long journey, with schooling, residency, and fellowship. I found it fitting to review my journey so far as a challenge. Work-life balance is essential for a physician. My effective maintenance of this balance is an important skill for medical school. I kept my mind set on my end goal, and I did not want to use any of the tragedies of my life as an excuse. I wanted to prove to myself that nothing can hold me back when I set my mind to it. I will overcome adversity to follow through with my dreams.

My dream is to become a bilingual physician. I am from a rural area, with little ethnic diversity and I am the first in my family to pursue medicine. I want to make a difference in the health of hispanic communities, and the United States as a whole.

I left home in 2019 for college. I knew I would miss being close to family, but I visited frequently. I regularly faced the challenge of balancing my career development with my adversity. In 2020, my grandmother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I took the first flight to visit her. I spent a couple days in Florida by her side, listening to her life experiences through her stories. It was our last opportunity to connect; she only lived for a couple weeks after diagnosis. Unlike the long journey my grandfather went through while I was in high school, my grandmother died suddenly. I had experienced both the pain of prolonged hospice, as well as sudden unexpected death. During spring break, I attended her funeral. My grandmother was very active in her community, serving veterans and senior centers. However, there was hardly anyone at her funeral. COVID-19 prohibited her dearest friends from attending, as they were also elderly. The empty church only increased the emotional toll on my family. I struggled to find a compromise where I could excel in my coursework and support my immediate family members from another state. Most recently, my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. While hers was much less advanced, I had already lost two family members. I took it very seriously, and it hit me hard emotionally. I attended doctor’s appointments with her, and visited the hospital when she had a lobectomy. It was during the summer, so I was fortunate to be home to tend to my younger siblings. Throughout my undergraduate years, I have accepted the challenge of balancing my career development with caring for my family. I prioritized caring for those I loved without sacrificing my future. I utilized several strategies and resources to overcome this challenge. I reached out to form new friends. I saw each challenge as a sink-or-swim scenario, and I chose to continue on my path. I focused on my school work and involvement with the Ronald McDonald House. I served families who were coping with the illness of their child. I had a new perspective on adversity, and I was grateful for my opportunities. I wanted to cherish my education and make lifelong memories. Despite recurring adversities, I learned how to support my family while progressing towards my career as a physician. Medical education is a long journey, with schooling, residency, and fellowship. I found it fitting to review my journey so far as a challenge. Work-life balance is essential for a physician. My effective maintenance of this balance is an important skill for medical school. I kept my mind set on my end goal, and I did not want to use any of the tragedies of my life as an excuse. I wanted to prove to myself that nothing can hold me back when I set my mind to it. I am capable of high caliber coursework, I am motivated to learn, and I will overcome adversity to follow through with my dreams.

I exist because of the song “I Hope You Dance,” written by Lee Ann Womack. In 1997, my mom had an ectopic pregnancy bursting her only functioning fallopian tube. Crying to a fertility doctor, she begged for a way to have biological children. The doctor suggested invitro fertilization, but it was not covered by insurance. My parents were in their twenties and knew that this could ruin them financially. After trying several times, they had no luck, no more hope and no more money. As my mom drove back from her unsuccessful appointment, she heard this song. The lyrics say “When you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance.” In that moment she decided to try one more time. My dad’s mother helped financially because they had nothing left, but this was important. With this final procedure I was conceived, their miracle baby. My whole family is indebted to modern medicine for the role it has played in our lives. I have seen so evidently the power of medicine through a helping hand. My grandmother’s helping hand allowed my parents to fulfill their dreams, and ultimately allows me to fulfill mine. I often think about that song as I am faced with opportunities, such as when an EMT class became available. As an emergency medical technician, I have learned the power of my hands in the lives of my patients. I have performed CPR on three patients, including my next-door neighbor where I was first on scene. There are still times where I am baffled by the concept that there are people who are only alive and thriving because of my interventions. Caretaking as an EMT has inspired my drive to continue my education, especially because I have so much more to learn and explore. In March of 2020, emergency response teams were spread incredibly thin. From the moment my college went online, I volunteered about two hundred hours a month. Each call’s protocol included sending one EMT to assess the COVID risk. I regularly found myself running into each house not knowing if I could get sick. I trusted in my protective equipment from the face shield and gown to the reused N95, and I was ready to extend my hand to the patient. I have seen people dance in different ways. Much of my young adult life I had to watch my grandfather battle death. My grandfather fought through several types of cancers, never quitting or “sitting it out.” He lived in rural northern Maine, two hours from the nearest hospital. I learned to drive at thirteen just in case I needed to drive for a medical emergency. Eventually my grandmother and he had to move to Connecticut to be closer to specialized physicians. Each time I put on my gloves I remember the unique opportunity I have, as a part of so many patient stories. My story starts with medicine, when the song, doctor, IVF, and my grandmother all offered my parents a helping hand. As an EMT, I can extend my hand to my patients. However, I want to know more. Attending medical school is the next step in seizing opportunities and refusing to sit back and watch those who are unwell in our nation. I am eager to expand my diagnostic ability to extend my scope of practice. With the choice to sit it out or dance, I will dance. I will dance while awestruck at the magic of the human body and medicine’s power to change a life.

I exist because of the song “I Hope You Dance,” written by Lee Ann Womack. In 1997, my mom had an ectopic pregnancy bursting her only functioning fallopian tube. Crying to a fertility doctor, she begged for a way to have biological children. The doctor suggested in vitro fertilization (IVF), but it was not covered by insurance. My parents were in their twenties and knew that this could ruin them financially. After trying several times, they had no luck, no more hope and no more money. As my mom drove back from her unsuccessful appointment, she heard this song. The lyrics say “When you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance.” In that moment she decided to try one more time. My dad’s mother helped financially because they had nothing left, but this was important. With this final procedure I was conceived, their miracle baby. My whole family is indebted to modern medicine for the role it has played in our lives. I have seen so evidently the power of medicine through this song and the notion of extending a helping hand. My grandmother’s helping hand allowed my parents to fulfill their dreams, and ultimately allows me to fulfill mine. This song started the series of events that will allow me to give back to so many people as a future physician.

My patient “Luis” crashed his car into a pole. Police asked him if he needed treatment, but he was confused. They began to question him. Luis became anxious and repeated “Speak slow por favor.” This was an opportunity to offer him access to care. In Spanish, I asked him if he preferred to speak his native language. His demeanor changed. He began to breathe deeper and explain to me what had happened. I was grateful I was able to help, but it brings attention to the larger problem in medicine. Hispanic Americans often lack access to healthcare because of language barriers. While translator services help, there is a disconnect between patient and practitioner. I am hispanic, which comes with certain experiences that have developed my diversity of thought. In 2019, I stayed with my relatives in Havana, Cuba. I brought food and supplies in my suitcase to add to their limited rations, and to avoid casting the burden of my visit on their household. My family showed me around their country and introduced me to multiple aspects of our cultural heritage. Outside of tourist areas, Cuba lacks recreation; I realized that attending a movie theater or going roller skating are luxuries, completely unavailable to them. My relatives boil their water daily and must fill buckets since the water shuts off every night. My trip and Bachelor’s in Spanish have both greatly contributed to my personal growth: I learned to communicate in Spanish. Growing up as a Cuban in Miami, my mother understood Spanish, but her Italian father did not allow her to speak it. It has been so important for me to explore over the past year as I have taken more Spanish classes. However, hispanic culture has been my consistent area of intellectual exploration since middle school. In addition to receiving formal education about hispanic culture through my degree, I traveled to Costa Rica, Mexico, Cuba, and Spain. I know this will be a lifelong learning process and I still have so many aspects I would like to explore. I am passionate to further integrate with my hispanic culture because this is a community I want to serve as a physician.

Medicine changed the lives of my parents when they sought in vitro fertilization as a way to conceive children. In a sense, medicine is the reason I am able to fulfill my dreams. My dream is to create that kind of difference for others through becoming a physician. I discovered this dream as I saw more ways that medicine has created a pivotal moment in my life. Most recently, medicine saved my mom’s life. Her surgeon removed her lung cancer. I began shadowing Dr. Worth, learning the attributes of my role model physician. I found ways to utilize these traits every day, from compassionately extending a hand to my peers to advocating for underprivileged families at the Ronald McDonald House. When I began looking at schools to continue my education, I was initially drawn to consider CMU because there is a clear commitment to serving underrepresented communities. Students and faculty are from diverse backgrounds across the country, and CMU connects everyone into a close knit community. Coming from a small town, fostering a strong community is very important for where I choose to attend medical school. As an EMT and a firefighter, I often know the patient I am serving, since the community is very connected with one another. This connection is important to the type of medicine I wish to practice as a physician. On the track to becoming a physician, I have completed many community service activities. It is exciting to make a difference in someone else's life, and I have learned a lot about myself and my interests along the way. I never halfway commit when I set my mind to accomplish something. As an EMT, I am passionate to provide the highest quality of care I can. With my studies, I am passionate to learn the most I can. With my advocacy, I am passionate to help someone however I can. An example of my passionate advocacy occurred at the Ronald McDonald House. One of my responsibilities as Family Services Coordinator is to screen who is eligible to receive certain resources. The policy states that mothers in active addiction or addiction treatment are ineligible to stay on the property. One mother, “Laura,” called asking if there was a room available, since her baby was born nine weeks premature. I asked our normal screening questions, including referral information and symptoms of illness. Everything seemed to fit within protocol, and her baby was at the NICU of our partner hospital. However, Laura was on a medication typically used for addiction treatment. She denied any drug usage and her baby was not born addicted. She expressed this medication was for a behavioral illness, after many other medications had failed. Our protocol stated she could not stay, but instead of rejecting her application, I called my boss. Although Laura was upfront about her medications, my manager said we could not take her word for it. I suggested to my manager that Laura could provide a doctor’s note explaining the medication’s usage. With that, we were able to provide her a place to stay. The goal of the policy is to protect all families who stay with us, and it was not fair to withdraw support due to illness. I learned the importance for policies to consider case-by-case scenarios, and to advocate for a person’s individual circumstances, especially when they cannot speak up themselves. In this situation, I was proud to be Laura’s advocate.

I am matriculating into medical school to become a physician next year. Physicians are passionate advocates. They need to be good listeners with professional communication skills. A physician is an active observer and they have cultural awareness and respect for others. I strive to maintain these traits every day. The trait I believe I most embody is my passion. I have never halfway committed when I set my mind to accomplish something. As an EMT, I am passionate to provide the highest quality of care I can. With my studies, I am passionate to learn the most I can. With my advocacy, I am passionate to help someone however I can. This has allowed me to prioritize my fight to address important social issues in medicine. I am the president of the American Medical Student Association at the University of Kentucky. I match premedical students with volunteering and spread awareness for advocacy opportunities. Currently we are serving meals to those experiencing homelessness and families with children in the hospital. For the holiday season, we are buying gifts from Santa to a family in need in our community. As the president, I have coordinated these service events to address social issues in my community. An specific example of my passionate advocacy occurred at the Ronald McDonald House. One of my responsibilities as Family Services Coordinator is to screen who is eligible to receive certain resources. The policy states that mothers in active addiction or addiction treatment are ineligible to stay on the property. One mother, “Laura,” called asking if there was a room available, since her baby was born nine weeks premature. I asked our normal screening questions, including referral information and symptoms of illness. Everything seemed to fit within protocol, and her baby was at the NICU of our partner hospital. However, Laura was on a medication typically used for addiction treatment. She denied any drug usage and her baby was not born addicted. She expressed this medication was for a behavioral illness, after many other medications had failed. Our protocol stated she could not stay, but instead of rejecting her application, I called my boss. Although Laura was upfront about her medications, my manager said we could not take her word for it. I suggested to my manager that Laura could provide a doctor’s note explaining the medication’s usage. With that, we were able to provide her a place to stay. The goal of the policy is to protect all families who stay with us, and it was not fair to withdraw support due to illness. I learned the importance for policies to consider case-by-case scenarios, and to advocate for a person’s individual circumstances, especially when they cannot speak up themselves. In this situation, I was proud to be Laura’s advocate.

I volunteer as an EMT for the unique way I can impact a patient's life. While working as an EMT, I was dispatched to a 78 year old man, “Joe,” who fell out of bed. We arrived on scene to find him, seated on the bedroom floor. He was cheerful and alert, “I’m over here. I just can’t get my legs under me from this position.” As part of lift assist protocol, the patient is thoroughly assessed before they are assisted back into bed. Joe denied any pain or shortness of breath. However, I palpated an irregular pulse of 205 beats per minute (bpm). We called a medic for additional help. The patient regularly experienced atrial fibrillation, so the medic initially determined that the patient could be transported without sirens. After a repeat EKG, we saw that Joe was having an ST elevation myocardial infarction (STEMI). It is easy to fixate on the reason he called and assume that Joe merely needed assistance getting back to bed. Joe never experienced pain, nausea or shortness of breath. A STEMI was not originally on our radar for possible conditions. We upgraded the transport to lights and sirens and diverted to a specialized cardiac facility. As a physician, I will continue to reflect on cases like Joe’s, remembering to combat tunnel vision and reflecting on how transient a patient’s health may be. When we were almost at the hospital, Joe’s blood pressure plummeted. I applied the defibrillator pads to his chest and briefly explained cardioversion to Joe, who was surprisingly alert. After the shock, Joe’s pulse returned to a regular rhythm and his blood pressure normalized. Joe is alive and well today. This experience also taught me that cases do not always align with their “textbook presentation.” Caring for Joe showed how quickly a patient condition can change, as well as how necessary a thorough investigation is for every patient. It is moments like this that define why I am an EMT at a volunteer fire department. Coming from a small town, I often know the patient I am serving, since the community is very connected with one another. I have a unique opportunity to provide comfort to my neighbors during a difficult time. I also serve as a support member in fire calls. I am able to serve my community in a time of crisis, when they need it the most. It has developed my interest in a career path as a physician and I was recently accepted into medical school. *Note about images uploaded as proof: I am no longer a probationary member, this ID is from when I first joined. My other ID cards are attached to my fire gear which is not with me. I would be happy to provide more proof if requested including my up to date IDs or a letter from an officer. I also submitted a scholarship award from a fire department. The criteria for scholarship is listed in the letter. This award ($1500) was used in my fall semester.*

Ten years from now, I would like to practice medicine in a rural office where I know my patients on a personal level. I plan to work in a small practice, with a close knit team of physicians to assist each other. Unfortunately, this is not a financially beneficial career path. Primary care physicians do not make enough to repay their medical school loans. Yet I am set on this career path. Growing up in a small town, I strongly value my community, where neighbors lovingly check on one another. To be a small town doctor would be my ideal future, where I may see my patients browsing at the library or walking around town. Until further exploration through medical school and residency, I have an open mind to specialty. Through volunteering as an EMT, I learned I am particularly drawn to pediatric care. Also, I was a babysitter, a swimming instructor, and a martial arts instructor for children of all ages. My experiences with the pediatric population have been very rewarding and seem to fit well with my skill set. However, I can acknowledge the need for further exploration of the many options within medicine. Ten years from now, I know I will maintain my drive to be a lifelong learner. Whenever I get the chance, I listen to scholarly talks online and read articles and books. My training as an EMT and firefighter exposed me to the idea: “The more I know, the less I know.” Every time I uncovered the answer to one of my questions, I created two more follow-ups. With the attitude of continuing education, I hope to explore some aspect of mentorship or teaching within the field of medicine. I tutored in undergraduate, and I like to share insight and advice to build up my friends and peers. When I originally became an EMT, my highschool peers asked me many questions. “Ally” asked about the cracking in her wrist and “Ben” asked if he should see a doctor for his stomach pain. I always recommended that they seek professional advice. I want to have the knowledge to provide that professional advice about as many things as I possibly can. Ten years from now, I will be practicing medicine as the approachable neighborhood doctor, forever teaching and always learning. Earning this scholarship will allow me to pursue these future career goals without as much financial strain.

It is important to understand the world around us because many things can have human implications. I am hoping to become a physician scientist, and so far I have had the opportunity to do undergraduate research in biology. I research African Spiny Mice (Acomys) Regeneration. My original motivation to research stemmed from a course called Bio199. Bio199 was a single semester research project, leading to a poster about the composition of store bought honey brands. We reviewed the validity of “pesticide-free” claims and the criteria necessary to produce honey under this label. I took a leadership role on this project as one of the poster’s authors. I was responsible for the introduction and concluding remarks. I was set to co-present this poster for an undergraduate research showcase, but COVID-19 canceled the event. This short experience was my motivation to pursue further research. In my sophomore year, I was the lead researcher to investigate a regeneration project suggested by the PI. I was paired with a postdoc if I needed help, but I managed the project alone. I examined whether repeated injury to the ear pinna impacts the rate of healing. I punched a 4mm hole into both ears and measured the rate of hole closure. When fully healed, the ear punch was repeated in the same place, and the tissue removed was used for microscopic analysis. Another variable that I included in my study was mass. The heavier mice in the experiment seemed to take longer to heal, even on the first injury. In captivity, Acomys tend to gain more weight than in the wild, since they do not have to search for their own nutrients. Many of the mice in the lab are overweight, which could be a confounding variable in previously published studies. I regularly recorded the mice’s masses and the area of each of the ear punches on the 35 mice included in the study. As of now, the mice are healing from their third ear punch, and each successive injury has taken longer to heal. This research is ongoing, but preliminary analysis of data also seems to suggest that slower-healing subjects have thicker ear tissue and more scarring. While working on the repeated injury project, my postdoc became curious about whether my overweight organisms had diabetes. There was no precedent for developing a procedure that could test Acomys sugar or insulin levels, and no baseline value to use as a reference. I assisted in the development of the procedure, fasting the mice before assessing. Collecting blood from the mice was a difficult procedure, since the only known place for blood collection in Acomys is in the neck by the ear. We have collected data but have not formulated results yet. As an undergraduate, I have maintained a curious mind for research. My Acomys project has taught me the principles of presenting and many laboratory skills. My love for science has grown and I have fostered my inquisitive mind. I am a leader in my studies, having generated each hypothesis. I am excited to continue to learn through my projects. My investigative questions require long-term procedures, so I have not published or formed conclusive remarks about my data yet. However, my research with Acomys has furthered my motivation to pursue medicine. I know as a physician I will also be a scientist; I will contribute to the future of medicine and developing new treatments. I have learned much about the mammalian healing process and I am eager to see how Acomys regeneration will contribute to human healing in the next several years.

In February of 2020, my grandmother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I took the first flight to visit her. I spent a couple days in Florida by her side, listening to her life experiences through her stories. It was our last opportunity to connect, as we had no warning that she was even ill. She only lived for a couple weeks after diagnosis. Unlike the long journey my grandfather went through while I was in high school, my grandmother died suddenly. I had experienced both the pain of prolonged hospice, as well as sudden unexpected death. During spring break, I attended her funeral. My mom was especially upset; losing her mother meant losing the woman solely responsible for raising her. My grandmother was very active in her community, serving veterans and senior centers. However, there was hardly anyone at her funeral. COVID-19 prohibited her dearest friends from attending. The empty church only increased my family’s emotional toll. I struggled to find a compromise where I could excel in my coursework in one state and support my immediate family members in another state. I did not want them to worry about me, so I had even more motivation to succeed. During my college years, I ended an abusive relationship, supported my mom through lung cancer, and coped with the death of two close grandparents. Any of these circumstances alone could have hindered my ability to excel at my university. However, I kept my mind set on my goal, and I did not want to use any of these tragedies as an excuse. I wanted to prove to myself that nothing can hold me back. I am motivated to learn, and I will overcome adversity to follow through with my dreams

Perseverance is the trait I value most in myself. Shortly after graduating high school, my grandfather lost his long battle with cancer. I moved to attend college, but I called my family daily and maintained my connections. Less than a year later, my grandmother started feeling ill. I booked the first flight to see her. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died within the week. We had no warning. It was difficult to lose two close family members in such a short time. To make matters worse, there was hardly anyone at her funeral. COVID-19 prohibited her dearest friends from attending, as they were also elderly. The empty church only increased the emotional toll on my family. Overcoming their deaths required strength and resiliency. I drew near to my family members through video chats and frequent visits home. Either of these circumstances alone could have hindered my ability to excel at my university, but I persevered. This year, both my parents required major surgery: my dad’s retina detached and a lobe of my mom’s lung was removed. Despite tough times, I will continue to support my family while working towards my career development. Medical education is a long journey, with schooling, residency, and fellowship. My journey so far has been one challenge after the next, but I have overcome adversity. Work-life balance is essential for a physician. My effective maintenance of this balance is an important skill for medical school. I kept my mind set on my end goal, and I did not want to use any of the tragedies of my life as an excuse. I wanted to prove to myself that nothing can hold me back when I set my mind to it. I am capable of high caliber coursework, I am motivated to learn, and I will persevere to follow through with my dreams.