Personal Statements: Conclusion

A month later and countless edits from amazingly caring people, and I've finished step one of the medical school application process. The application should have been submitted weeks ago, but I do not regret the long process it's taken me to get to this point.

The final version is less interesting, full of subtly hinted activities that I've done in my college career. Instead, I'd like to share version five (of eleven), only because it's the one that I wrote most comfortably and was most comfortable with, (although ultimately it did not serve the purpose of my medical school application essay).

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In times of difficulty, we obtain lasting knowledge. While facts and formulas fade, what remains is a core set of principles, the basic lemmas with which we decide how to respond, react, and ultimately progress. In the unforeseen moments of tribulation we add and adapt to those principles, molding and reshaping ourselves towards constant betterment, that is, to say that the "us" of today has improved upon that of yesterday. Since childhood I had wished to become a doctor, but it is my experiences in those moments of difficulty that confident that I want to pursue a career in medicine.

"He who climbs Fuji-san once, is a great man. He who climbs it twice, is an idiot.” Thirty-six hours on a mountain with a pulled muscle and little oxygen led me to question whether climbing it once was enough to consider myself idiotic. It hurt. A lot. But upon reaching the apex, all doubts subsided. My body had been pushed beyond its known limitations and more importantly, persevered. Above the clouds against the rising sun, I stood less in awe of the surreal scene before me but more in awe of the human creation, wondering just how many billions of biological processes worked together that day to keep me alive, to find enough energy to will myself past all points of surrender, and to give me the strength to ignore the unfortunate truth: I still had to climb down. But it was then I was sure. I wanted to study medicine.

Back on the ground, my daily work at the research institute had come to a standstill. Learning to communicate in a Japanese lab had been difficult enough, but adding on the stress of a failed cell line, I was beginning to feel boxed in. Silently I envisioned future nights as a physician dealing with similar circumstances of hopelessness and mental fatigue. But in that future as in then, I knew I would have to find ways to continue. Unwilling to allow an entire summer succumb to a single ineffectual strain of cells, I took a syringe to my arm--if their cells didn't work, I would try my own.

After a successful three months in Japan, I flew to Panama and immediately found my brain's agility being tested beyond any previous capacity. it seemed as though years had passed since I had last heard fluent English, much less Spanish. And for the third time that day, I reddened, having just told a very confused taxi driver, "Sumimasen--no wait, sorry, I mean--Permiso..." Over the coming weeks, it quickly became necessary to learn how to approach each new cultural situation with the appropriate delicacy and tact: a skill that will undoubtedly prove invaluable to a physician in a rapidly shrinking world.

But of all the attributes required of a doctor, I have learned to rank compassion among the highest. In the Panama study abroad program our group of nine travelled from place to place, rarely staying for more than a handful of days. One such stop was at the Ngobe indigenous reservation, a poverty-ridden region far removed from any true source of medical care. There I met Lula, my homestay little sister.

Though silent in nature, she spoke volumes in smiles. After a day’s journey I lifted her off the muddied ground and with my free hand, motioned to a first-aid kit. In tacit assent she put forth an injured foot--the mile-long trek had not treated her bare soles kindly. While tending to her injuries, I allowed her tiny fingers to fiddle with my unkempt hair, attempting to distract her from the sting of the bactine. She winced, burrowing into my shoulder. I gently smiled in apology; but slowly, a deeper source of anguish unraveled in my chest.

Lula was one of the many orphans of the village, and many of the Ngobe children would not see adulthood due to common, curable diseases. In that instant, I felt powerless to do much else aside from treating her cuts and scrapes. There was little I could do to prevent her future sicknesses; there was little I could do to bring medical care to the village. All I could do then was show compassion to her and the others I would meet that day—compassion I will one day forge in the bonds of the doctor-patient relationship during similar seemingly hopeless situations. But fortunately in this case, their situation was far from hopeless.

In the following semester, I founded FewForChange, a non-profit organization dedicated to raising scholarships for Lula and others in similar situations. With the money raised, we will give their future generations a chance at education—the option we deemed most probable to end the cycle of poverty. To date, our group of twenty (and counting) has raised two full scholarships. I have recently returned from Panama to ensure that all the steps are underway--at least two students next year will have the funds for transportation, food, and tuition.

With each difficulty that I have known in the brief years of my life, I have found an opportunity for accomplishment and personal growth. Medicine will offer a lifetime of such opportunities, and I look forward to the lessons each one will hold. And while some will undoubtedly sneer at such a pursuit, I invite them to remember the words of Peter Marshall: “When we long for life without difficulties, remember that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure.”

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It is (as is much of my writing, I feel) overly dramatized, but when trying to review and draw conclusions from the past years of life, the writing tends to sway in that direction. Either way, I thought it'd be interesting to share because this essay represents one reason I wish to study medicine, and the outlook I am taking towards this future career.