Undergraduate / Stanford's Intellectual Vitality Essay-- Brother's Leukemia [9]

The transition between the two paragraphs is a bit choppy. It is a powerful story and I believe that punctuating the end of the second paragraph with a strong statement will improve the overall strength of the essay.

I really like it.

Undergraduate / "Another Night on Facebook" - personal quality, talent, experience [6]

The essay certainly tells a story about you, but I feel like it might paint a more negative picture than what you are looking for. I like the essay in general, but I believe you might get more attention if you lighten it up a little.

Undergraduate / "The EMS radio" - Common App, Sign Exp [3]

I'm still working on the last few lines...

The EMS radio is blaring. This is the third encode in the last ten minutes. Through the crackle a paramedic summons the immediate attention of a physician. I duck into the corner as not to get in the way, but intent on absorbing every ounce of the static-filled exchange. A woman on the ambulance has a fatal arrhythmia, and the paramedic requests an order for Adenosine. The ER doc turns to me, explaining that though this is the best treatment, it does not come without risk. The physician orders the medication to be administered and hugs closely to the radio, awaiting the paramedics' continued evaluation of the patient. The air feels heavy as I take a breath and silently pray that the Adenosine is successful. The paramedic returns to the line to report the patient has become asystolic. My heart is pounding out of my chest and, as I have learned the patient's heart has stopped altogether. The physician gives a list of orders to the paramedic, his demeanor calm and his words exacting. I am awed by his ability to diffuse an exponentially stressful situation with relative ease. The radio crackles and then becomes silent. We stand in suspended animation waiting -- hoping.

It's only noon and patients on stretchers line the hallways. They all have immediate needs and many are in pain. I often feel helpless, like a fish in a fishbowl, in my current roll as I am not able to provide immediate aide to those in need. My train of thought is interrupted as our EMS patient is dashed down the hallway and rolled into room 17. My attention has shifted to the panic in her husbands' eyes as he trails behind the paramedic, her purse clutched tightly in his hands. My heart is wrenched with emotion. The charge nurse summons me to room 17 and requests that I escort the patient's husband to a private waiting room.

Up until that second, volunteering in the ER had been everything I dreamed it would be; fast paced, intense and action packed. I had failed to consider the most important part - the human component. This event would redefine the course of my future.

The husband leaned against me for support as we made our way towards the waiting room. I closed my eyes, searching my young soul for the right words. My thoughts were spinning out of control and I felt as though I was withdrawing from the situation. I fought to organize the feelings pulsing through me and finally mustered up the courage to speak. "I can't imagine how you must be feeling..." I fumbled with the words that followed but ultimately explained that though I was just a boy that had never been faced with such a crisis, my heart went out to him. He embraced me at the entrance to the waiting room, tears pouring from his eyes. "Thank you young man, your words mean more than you can imagine" he said to me as I exited the room.

After my shift had ended and I was headed out of the ER, I overheard the nurses talking about the woman. At first I was excited to hear that she was still alive, but then I realized the conversation was questioning the extraordinary measures that left her lying in room 17 on a ventilator with virtually no chance of any quality of life should she regain consciousness. I left deflated.

Staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, I pondered the events of the day. I questioned the man's statement wondering how on earth what I said had possibly meant anything and in that moment I realized the beauty of compassion. It wasn't what I said, but the genuine sympathy and desire to lesson his pain that had made a difference. I avoided such situations in the past as they caused me great anxiety. Thankfully, I was pushed to explore the world outside of my comfort zone and discovered that I was not helpless in my role after all.

Still, I continued to struggle with the words I had overheard and how they would ultimately impact the frightened man I left alone in the waiting room. This question would loom with me for months and ultimately inspire my enrollment in Stanford Universities High School Summer Program where I would further explore ethical issues as they relate to medicine.