BlankPage
Apr 13, 2011
Graduate / SOP for Global MPH: Masters in Public Health, begin medical school and travel [6]
"A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new."-- Albert Einstein
We all have a purpose, mine is to think outside the box, macro not micro, see the hidden connections, and create global ties. In my recent travels, I've learned that all people are generally the same; we have the same basic needs like clean air, clean food, health care, excreta. As a child, the 'hood' was home, it was all I knew. My world, my idea of the world, was small; Dad always told me I needed to get out of the hood, I needed to think big. He reminded me everyday how his choices, both the wrong and right ones, paved the road of life.
I have built my life, all the successes and failures, by making mistakes. Mistakes are the drops of red wine on my white summer dress. At the moment, when I realize that I have stained my dress, feelings of regret flood into my mind and life seems to come to a complete stop. I now have two choices; do I allow stains to ruin my day? Or do I see this as an opportunity for growth?
Some drops cannot be seen by the naked eye. I remember the first time I ever became aware the poverty that inundated my small, ignorant world. I was 7 years old; my mother, a local elementary school teacher, took my brother and me to visit two students and their mother. Approximately ten minutes away from my house there was a small hut in the center of what resembled a land field. As we pulled up the hut, I remember thinking, why is my mother taking us here? As my mother walked around the back of the car she pulled blankets, dry food and other goods from the trunk. My brother and I are instructed to help; I hesitate, finally getting out of the car to meet my mother. As we walked around the corner I see the children walking out of their home, the dilapidated hut with a dirt floor and only three standing walls. My mother gave them the blankets and food, chatted with the mother for a moment, and we walked back into the car. I cried. My mother didn't know it then; that she had planted the seed from which my passion for humanitarian assistance grows.
Small unnoticeable stains are the easiest to live with; it is when you realized that your once full glass of wine is now on display, for everyone to see, that adheres. Every experience has taught me a little more about myself and my limits. In the fall of 2004, I was accepted to the AmeriCorps program. I chose to serve my 9 months, at the Rape Crisis Center of San Antonio, as an advocate. Initially, I started off doing clerical work and attending Community events. It wasn't long before I was publically reaching out to our local government officials and spreading the word of awareness to school age children and young adults. Near the end of my assignment, I was given the dream assignment, on-call field advocate; meeting with the survivors at the hospital guiding them through the process.
It had been about 2 months since I started field service; average of 10 calls a week, both children and adult. Then, there it is, the first immeasurable stain. I walked into the private waiting room, as usual, and saw a little brown haired, brown eyed, Hispanic girl. I sat down and began to listen to her parents recalling every detail. Her story reminded me of someone; of me. After the paperwork and the examination were complete I went home and turned off my phone.
Unfortunately, I didn't finish my 9 month assignment. At the time, I didn't know how to deal with it; I thought my past wounds had been healed. As my father once told me, "when you are standing face to face with your greatest fear--failure, you stand up and hold your ground." Life can be very humbling if you let yourself lose every once in awhile. I needed to see the weakness in me in order to improve, to grow.
"When one door closes, another opens;" sounds cliché, but that is exactly how a lifetime dream of going to Africa became my reality. During my assignment with the Rape Crisis Center, I had the opportunity to meet many great people; like minded people. One day, during typical office conversation, someone over heard me speaking about wanting to go to Africa on a medical mission. I think that in life, it is important to know the right people at the right time and this time my timing was perfect. I was approached by my supervisor that day and she gave me the contact information for a Dr. Al Jones.
Dribbles of wine can be lovely. In the summer of 2006, after about a year of correspondence and planning, I set foot on African soil. We stayed in a small Nigerian village outside of the city of Aba, in a missionary's home. I spent most of my ten to twelve hour days inside the 'Theatre,' as they called it. A day hardly went by, that we didn't have any surgeries, but on our free time, I would immerse myself in the community with the people. We learned how to make tough decisions; the extremely ill 75 year old man we bagged for six hours before making the decision to stop because if we kept going we would exhaust our oxygen resources. Then there was Jacob, the 9 year old with 2nd and 3rd degree burns all over his body. As with most burn patients, debridement cleaning and dressings are important aspects of wound care. However, when resources and staff are extremely limited and technology is non-existent, this very important task is left pending. We, the pre-medical students and I, were a blessing; an extra set of hands. When the nurses asked us to assist with the debridement of Jacob's wounds, we were all eager to help-at first. Then, when the chief nurse explained to us the procedure, specifically when she informed us that we couldn't give him anesthetic due to his wounds being infected, everyone turned their backs. They were shocked; not understanding the necessity of debridement. I knew what needed to be done. I told the nurse I would perform the procedure. The other pre-medical students stood watching me struggle with his strength; every time I started to scrub he would pull away. He was extremely strong and I couldn't hold him down. Eventually, after much struggle, they decided to help me hold Jacob down. His screams were new to my naive ears, it hurt to know that I was the source of his pain; I was torturing him. I knew that if I didn't scrub well his wounds they would become infected and he could die; so I stayed strong. Most criticized me for my lack of sympathy, for going ahead with the procedure, for not just telling the African nurse to do it herself. I only spent 3 weeks in Africa, but that was enough to change my idea of life, its necessities, and its obstacles.
Shades of purple are becoming. Dr. Julie L. Gerberding, the immediate past director --U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said it best, "There is no other point of intersection between health care and public health that is as strong, as necessary, and as robust as the clinical laboratory." My decision to study Clinical Laboratory Science came to me upon the realization that laboratories are a critical component of our public health infrastructure. We are increasingly at risk from emerging infectious diseases, food borne illnesses, and the grave potential for biological terrorism. Laboratories play an essential role in protecting the public from these risks. Today's society are no longer on foot, they are traveling, not only throughout the US, but internationally. We are an interconnected world, "a health crisis in one country can affect the quality of life in many parts of the world." Moreover, attaining my Bachelor of Science in Clinical Laboratory Science was to set the foundation for my future in Public Health.
Today my once white dress is a radiant purple. Joining my husband across the world, as he serves his country, making daily efforts to promote Health and Wellness in our military community has been extremely rewarding. Twenty-seven years of living, truly living, will keep the color purple.
I will continue on this path of color, taking the next step towards my goals: to attain my Masters in Public Health, begin medical school and travel the world so I can lend my hand to the less fortunate. People, life, and the experiences they graciously give to me, this is what I strive for; for a dress, rich in color, a deep purple color.
***I know the grammar is bad and I am working on it. What I would mostly like to know, is if it is too heavy into the analogy, too artsy, etc. If you would like to help me with grammar please feel free!*****
"A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new."-- Albert Einstein
We all have a purpose, mine is to think outside the box, macro not micro, see the hidden connections, and create global ties. In my recent travels, I've learned that all people are generally the same; we have the same basic needs like clean air, clean food, health care, excreta. As a child, the 'hood' was home, it was all I knew. My world, my idea of the world, was small; Dad always told me I needed to get out of the hood, I needed to think big. He reminded me everyday how his choices, both the wrong and right ones, paved the road of life.
I have built my life, all the successes and failures, by making mistakes. Mistakes are the drops of red wine on my white summer dress. At the moment, when I realize that I have stained my dress, feelings of regret flood into my mind and life seems to come to a complete stop. I now have two choices; do I allow stains to ruin my day? Or do I see this as an opportunity for growth?
Some drops cannot be seen by the naked eye. I remember the first time I ever became aware the poverty that inundated my small, ignorant world. I was 7 years old; my mother, a local elementary school teacher, took my brother and me to visit two students and their mother. Approximately ten minutes away from my house there was a small hut in the center of what resembled a land field. As we pulled up the hut, I remember thinking, why is my mother taking us here? As my mother walked around the back of the car she pulled blankets, dry food and other goods from the trunk. My brother and I are instructed to help; I hesitate, finally getting out of the car to meet my mother. As we walked around the corner I see the children walking out of their home, the dilapidated hut with a dirt floor and only three standing walls. My mother gave them the blankets and food, chatted with the mother for a moment, and we walked back into the car. I cried. My mother didn't know it then; that she had planted the seed from which my passion for humanitarian assistance grows.
Small unnoticeable stains are the easiest to live with; it is when you realized that your once full glass of wine is now on display, for everyone to see, that adheres. Every experience has taught me a little more about myself and my limits. In the fall of 2004, I was accepted to the AmeriCorps program. I chose to serve my 9 months, at the Rape Crisis Center of San Antonio, as an advocate. Initially, I started off doing clerical work and attending Community events. It wasn't long before I was publically reaching out to our local government officials and spreading the word of awareness to school age children and young adults. Near the end of my assignment, I was given the dream assignment, on-call field advocate; meeting with the survivors at the hospital guiding them through the process.
It had been about 2 months since I started field service; average of 10 calls a week, both children and adult. Then, there it is, the first immeasurable stain. I walked into the private waiting room, as usual, and saw a little brown haired, brown eyed, Hispanic girl. I sat down and began to listen to her parents recalling every detail. Her story reminded me of someone; of me. After the paperwork and the examination were complete I went home and turned off my phone.
Unfortunately, I didn't finish my 9 month assignment. At the time, I didn't know how to deal with it; I thought my past wounds had been healed. As my father once told me, "when you are standing face to face with your greatest fear--failure, you stand up and hold your ground." Life can be very humbling if you let yourself lose every once in awhile. I needed to see the weakness in me in order to improve, to grow.
"When one door closes, another opens;" sounds cliché, but that is exactly how a lifetime dream of going to Africa became my reality. During my assignment with the Rape Crisis Center, I had the opportunity to meet many great people; like minded people. One day, during typical office conversation, someone over heard me speaking about wanting to go to Africa on a medical mission. I think that in life, it is important to know the right people at the right time and this time my timing was perfect. I was approached by my supervisor that day and she gave me the contact information for a Dr. Al Jones.
Dribbles of wine can be lovely. In the summer of 2006, after about a year of correspondence and planning, I set foot on African soil. We stayed in a small Nigerian village outside of the city of Aba, in a missionary's home. I spent most of my ten to twelve hour days inside the 'Theatre,' as they called it. A day hardly went by, that we didn't have any surgeries, but on our free time, I would immerse myself in the community with the people. We learned how to make tough decisions; the extremely ill 75 year old man we bagged for six hours before making the decision to stop because if we kept going we would exhaust our oxygen resources. Then there was Jacob, the 9 year old with 2nd and 3rd degree burns all over his body. As with most burn patients, debridement cleaning and dressings are important aspects of wound care. However, when resources and staff are extremely limited and technology is non-existent, this very important task is left pending. We, the pre-medical students and I, were a blessing; an extra set of hands. When the nurses asked us to assist with the debridement of Jacob's wounds, we were all eager to help-at first. Then, when the chief nurse explained to us the procedure, specifically when she informed us that we couldn't give him anesthetic due to his wounds being infected, everyone turned their backs. They were shocked; not understanding the necessity of debridement. I knew what needed to be done. I told the nurse I would perform the procedure. The other pre-medical students stood watching me struggle with his strength; every time I started to scrub he would pull away. He was extremely strong and I couldn't hold him down. Eventually, after much struggle, they decided to help me hold Jacob down. His screams were new to my naive ears, it hurt to know that I was the source of his pain; I was torturing him. I knew that if I didn't scrub well his wounds they would become infected and he could die; so I stayed strong. Most criticized me for my lack of sympathy, for going ahead with the procedure, for not just telling the African nurse to do it herself. I only spent 3 weeks in Africa, but that was enough to change my idea of life, its necessities, and its obstacles.
Shades of purple are becoming. Dr. Julie L. Gerberding, the immediate past director --U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said it best, "There is no other point of intersection between health care and public health that is as strong, as necessary, and as robust as the clinical laboratory." My decision to study Clinical Laboratory Science came to me upon the realization that laboratories are a critical component of our public health infrastructure. We are increasingly at risk from emerging infectious diseases, food borne illnesses, and the grave potential for biological terrorism. Laboratories play an essential role in protecting the public from these risks. Today's society are no longer on foot, they are traveling, not only throughout the US, but internationally. We are an interconnected world, "a health crisis in one country can affect the quality of life in many parts of the world." Moreover, attaining my Bachelor of Science in Clinical Laboratory Science was to set the foundation for my future in Public Health.
Today my once white dress is a radiant purple. Joining my husband across the world, as he serves his country, making daily efforts to promote Health and Wellness in our military community has been extremely rewarding. Twenty-seven years of living, truly living, will keep the color purple.
I will continue on this path of color, taking the next step towards my goals: to attain my Masters in Public Health, begin medical school and travel the world so I can lend my hand to the less fortunate. People, life, and the experiences they graciously give to me, this is what I strive for; for a dress, rich in color, a deep purple color.
***I know the grammar is bad and I am working on it. What I would mostly like to know, is if it is too heavy into the analogy, too artsy, etc. If you would like to help me with grammar please feel free!*****