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Personal Narrative.. Too personal???


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To anyone who wants to give their opinion, I'd love to hear thoughts about my narrative. And also if anyone thinks this narrative is a little TOO personal. I know it touches on several different things, maybe too many. Thanks in advance for any advice! :)

Personal Narrative: The Path That Led Me to Physician Assistant Studies

 

The first time I drove a car I was fourteen years old. I’d driven around the pastures and gravel roads around my isolated home a few times, but this was the real deal: making the 60-mile trip from home in rural Mississippi to the big city of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. In retrospect I took it all pretty well in stride, with my dad riding along beside me, gently encouraging and guiding me through the drive. It would not be the last trip we made with me acting as the unlicensed chauffeur, but this never stood out to me as odd or unorthodox. My father’s health had played a central role in my life for nearly as long as I could remember, so when he needed a ride to his doctor’s appointment I took on that responsibility as naturally as any adult caregiver would. But that is not to say that I handled all aspects of his illness so easily.

I’d long grown used to the daily insulin injections and finger pricking, and had learned to do it for him by the time I was 10. Managing his Type 1 diabetes was just as much a part of our routine as was playing, singing, and watching our favorite TV shows together. It was over the next several years, after he was diagnosed with Guillain-Barre syndrome, that the signs of his poor health became more visible and began to greatly affect my life. There were many ups and downs, and many things I found myself unable to process at that point in time. To be sure, it has been over seven years since my father passed away and it seems only very recently that I’ve begun to grasp just how much his life has influenced mine, in the most significant of ways.

My last summer with my father was also the last summer I was a camper at Camp Bratton-Green, a wonderful, week-long summer camp I’d attended throughout my childhood. The following summer I returned to Bratton-Green, but as a camp counselor. The 12 girls assigned to my cabin, along with 100-plus other campers, were not what most would picture when imagining the typical summer camp-goer. They ranged in age from 35 to 72, with varying degrees of special needs. In the first five minutes, I felt myself questioning what I was getting into; those feelings quickly dissipated as I found myself captivated and amazed by each new person I met. I went fishing with Rachel, a 38-year-old who loved Garth Brooks, fancied herself a pool shark, and was born with an extra chromosome; I ate dinner with Ms. Christine, a 70-year-old who had resided in a group home for most of her life and liked to tuck each of us in every night. Each person’s story was even more unique, inspiring and humbling than the last. I left at the end of that week with a renewed appreciation for the people and things around me, and a fresh perspective on the future. Needless to say, I was drawn to return to Bratton-Green every summer thereafter for four years, and am certain I will return in the future. There are very few places to which I feel such a strong connection, and my time there played a chief role in the next steps I took towards a career.

Choosing to study Psychology seemed only natural, and I was reaffirmed in this belief with each successive class, as I excelled and became more fascinated with the field. Things got more complicated when trying to determine how I would use this degree to create the life and career I wanted. My interest in the medical field was realized while in Human Anatomy class. As the material became more complex and in depth, I became more intrigued with the subject. I’d always felt the pull to work in the service of others, but this new education led me to refocus my goal away from a therapy-based career to one based on science and medicine.

I was lucky enough to get a job as an Emergency Room Technician near my hometown after graduation from college, and my time spent there has made me realize my passion for medicine and social service to an even higher degree. The environment at my hospital is familiar in that it is a rural, community-based establishment to the likes of which I’ve been accustomed to since childhood. Yet it is also highly stimulating, as with each patient that comes through the door I have the opportunity to learn or do something new. More recently, I’ve also begun working as a scribe in a pediatric clinic, and I have discovered yet another vital entity of the medical field. From administering wound care and CPR to taking patient histories and interpreting test or lab results, my days are a perpetually changing cycle. But every day I am able to assist the doctor with some form of patient care, and it is a role in which I feel natural and comfortable. And in this role I strive to reflect the legacy of my father and the other special people I’ve met along the way, for it is to them I owe my current standing in life. I’ve been blessed to be able to constantly learn and evolve in a career that I love, and I can only hope to continue this on a higher level as a Physician Assistant.

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I don't think that it's too personal. I wrote about my mother and my husband, both having cancer. It's part of you, part of who you are, and that's something that the admission committee does not see on the application. I'm sorry about your father. Good luck

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