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Won't you help me, darling?


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Repping a 3.4 GPA has me slightly disadvantaged for many PA programs. With strong HCE (3,000 hours), moderately impressive GRE scores (160, 160, 4), and a solid narrative I'm hoping to overcome this problem! Be a dear, and lend me your ears! (or rather your eyes)

 

Please be brutal, help me make an unbeatable impression with a great essay:

 

“Can I have a sticker after?” he asked, his pale blue eyes brimming with tears. At age seven, Jacob was in my lab again for what seemed like his hundredth blood draw. After recently being diagnosed with acute myelogenous leukemia earlier that year, Jacob’s mother had to bring him to our clinic once a week for a CBC to monitor his condition. It was as if the sticker was a badge of honor for him, an emblem of courage. Who was I to deny him of this? As I pulled the box of stickers out for him to riffle through, his mother let out a deep sigh of relief. “I don’t know how you do it” she said. “Every week we come in here and you sit through the kicking, screaming, and crying with nothing but a smile on your face and patience in your eyes.” For some people it may seem tough to maintain optimism in dismal situations, but it is these situations that I love; it is in those moments I have the greatest opportunity to brighten someone’s day. This is my purpose in life, and getting to fulfill that purpose everyday only bolsters my desire to serve in the medical field.

 

I was fortunate as a child. Growing up, my parents pushed me to help others all the time, whenever I could, in whatever way possible. My parents were exemplary models, and I venerated their dedication to donating their time and money to aiding those in need. From a young age they had me involved in marathons for fundraising, donation drives, tutoring, and volunteering with the Leo's Club, which largely consisted of assisting in retirement communities. It came as no surprise to them when, half way through college, I told them my dreams of becoming a Physician Assistant.

 

I have been fixed in that reverie for over four years now. As I help each of my patients with a sincere heart, many of them are impelled to question how I could present with such contentment. “You seem really happy to be here,” they begin their inquiry, “do you plan on doing this forever?” Almost instantaneously I excitedly divulge to them my aspirations, telling them of my appreciation for altruism and education, but always ending with a somber “but the programs are very competitive, so…” As I trail off, without fail, they offer words of encouragement to remind me that this will happen for me, because it is exactly what someone of my disposition should be doing.

At this point, program acceptance is my only obstacle. I have plenty of passion and edification to make it through a master’s program for the Physician Assistant profession. Education takes precedence in my life, and I am eager to get back into school. I am a teacher and a learner. I am regularly exposed to populations who are illiterate because of my employment, both current and past. I found myself desperate to help this disadvantaged community upon witnessing the struggles they undergo. Being a life-long tutor, I have chosen to involve myself in volunteer opportunities to educate illiterate adults in my downtime between schooling. I have even put thought into being a teacher for the Physician Assistant profession later on down the road.

 

Even though I have worked closely with medical professionals as a young adult, my first exposure to the Physician Assistant profession came when I was in middle school. I wanted to visit my doctor to find out what was ailing me, but she was out of town. I was offered an appointment with the PA, so I went in for a diagnosis. It was not long after I arrived that I was able to see the PA, who helped me from the moment I got there until when she diagnosed me with Scarlet Fever and sent me on my way with a prescription. Even at such a young age, this struck me as odd.  I was used to the bluntness of a five minute doctor’s visit. This visit, however, was a very different experience, and I liked how personable it felt. I continued to make appointments with my PA after that, because she made me feel comfortable visiting the clinic by building a relationship with me. Each visit she asked about my life and family, and regularly expressed her concern with keeping me happy and healthy.

 

 By the time I was approaching the end of high school, it came to my PA's attention that a condition of mine was worsening, and she feared it may progress to a life threatening situation. Thanks to her vigilance, I was referred to a specialist who confirmed the severity of my case. A surgery was scheduled promptly to correct my sinuous spine, as its twisting was threatening to puncture my lungs. Though the doctor who did my surgery was professional, he was far from personable. Fortunately my PA took the time to focus on my comfort and care in addition to the doctor's work. Seeing my PA go above and beyond her responsibilities touched me, and has inspired me to be an effective caregiver like her, and earn a badge of honor in my own way.

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