As the eldest daughter to a young single mother, I came out of my youth with strong a determination for who I wanted to be. Quite a few of my defining childhood moments centered around our local hospital. It was where I met my little sister for the first time, and then my little brother several years later. Where my scared mother took me at 2 a.m. because I wasn’t breathing. Where my great aunt was treated for her many ailments. Many people associate hospitals with distressing memories and fear, but that was never me. To me, the hospital was where everyone was taken care of, my mother’s fears were quelled and where a curious child saw endless possibilities. Entering the hospital was thrilling and captivating, and I enjoyed being there, even when I wasn’t breathing. At home, I grew into a caretaker role to my siblings, mother and great aunt and I would often try to emulate the behaviors I saw from the doctors at the hospital. Providing care to those I cared about and being the person they turned to in times of crisis instilled in me a sense of pride and desire to fulfill that role for others.

            At the ripe age of ten I decided that I was going to be a doctor, like my caregivers at the hospital. I set my sights high and made a plan. When I entered high school, I knew it was prep time for securing a good college acceptance, so that I could go to a competitive medical school. I registered for every advanced placement and accelerated course, to show the colleges I applied to that I was determined. I participated in and took officer roles in every honor society and club I thought would improve my chances. I joined the swim team and made my way up to varsity captain, all with the goal of being a well-rounded applicant. In junior year when the time came for applications, I realized my family couldn’t even afford the cost of the applications themselves, let alone moving out of state to one of my dream schools. I watched my mother struggle with her student loan debt for years, and I didn’t want that for myself. So, I did what many soon to be broke high school graduates do: I joined the military.

            At the age of 17, I left home to become a Navy sailor in the prestigious Nuclear Power Program. My time in service began with two years of rigorous technical training to become a nuclear power plant operator. My rate as an Electrician’s Mate Nuclear class was responsible for the maintenance and operation of the plant’s electrical system. I gained a vast knowledge of the integrated technical systems that allow a nuclear power plant to provide power, propulsion and clean drinking water to one of the Navy’s many aircraft carriers. During my time in service, I continued to work on my dream of being a doctor. I enrolled in college courses in my free time and managed to earn two associates degrees. While the Navy provided me with the foundation I needed to be an independent adult capable of putting myself through college, I knew it wasn’t the end game for me. So after seven years, I left.

Once I exited the service, I enrolled in Old Dominion University and started to prepare myself to be a competitive medical school applicant. Along with trying to complete my bachelor’s degree, I began volunteering through Amedisys Hospice Care as an Alzheimer’s patient companion to demonstrate to prospective medical schools that I am empathetic and can handle the distressing side of healthcare. It has been a rewarding and challenging experience, and I recognize now more than ever, being able to provide comfort to those that need it is the most fulfilling role I could find myself in.

            I find myself reflecting on the old phrase “if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life.” While I hope that’s true, I know the path I’ve selected for myself will take a fair amount of hard work and dedication. However, after so many years on a tangent career and growing as a person, coming back to the plan that ten-year-old me laid out has brought me so much joy, confidence and excitement for what the future holds.