FInally finished my personal statement

[laferri2]

I have finally finished my personal statement, and it comes in just under the CASPA limit. I would appreciate any words of advice that could be given regarding the approach I've taken with my essay.

 

     In my life, there has never been an "ah-ha!" moment, a flash of insight, where I knew what I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. Rather, my life has been a series of
small steps and gradual changes, growth so slow and incremental that it is not noticed until well after the fact. In younger days, I was jealous of the people who knew exactly
what they wanted to be. I didn't know what I wanted to be. I only knew I was scared.

     I graduated from a small high school in Flint, Michigan in 2002; the kind of high school where the students were more concerned with football scores and getting a job at
the local General Motors factory than anything else. I knew I was interested in microbiology, and that was the first major I picked when I went to college. For the first several
years, I rarely went to class, and my grades suffered. I wasn't partying, or drinking, or any of the multitude of other irresponsible behaviors that so many students sabotage
themselves with. I was filled with anxiety so severe that I couldn't leave my room, and too immature to realize it. It defined me.

     In my second and third year, I got a job. I began to force myself to interact with the world around me. I changed my major to linguistics, as I had a love of languages.
I attended class more and my grades improved. I took the first steps towards my own maturity. As I realized that I couldn't make a real living in linguistics, I ended up changing
my major one final time, to speech-language pathology. Graduate school was one of the most challenging and difficult times of my life; not because of the academics, but
because of the intimate, one-to-one nature of speech pathology, an interaction far deeper than any I had dealt with before. I remember standing in the bathroom before a session,
sweating and shaking. I thought to myself "You are about to treat someone who has had their voice stolen from them. You have a voice. Why are you afraid to use it?"
I learned how to use my voice. I survived, and I grew.

     During my clinical fellowship year, I treated a patient who had suffered a significant stroke. The patient had a tracheotomy and was comatose on admission to our rehabilitation facility.
After a week, he was alert and responsive, with plans to decannulate and close the stoma. The treating physician wanted me to hold off on evaluating until the stoma was closed, so I went and spoke with the patient to appraise him of the plan. Again, the same old anxiety, the same fear of the unknown. Fear that I would fail the patient, that he would laugh at me, or yell at me. I gathered myself and entered the patient's room. I shook his hand, introduced himself, and explained our plan. The patient wasn't happy, as he had been requesting food, but I explained that it was the physician's decision to hold off on evaluating, as the risk of aspiration was high. The patient understood, and the next week our evaluation was scheduled. I worked with that man for three months, five days a week, for forty-five minutes a day. He progressed from being on a feeding tube, to a regular diet, and from having a mild aphasia to having very minimal word-finding deficits. Every time this man talked to me, he smiled. He looked forward to our sessions. It occurred to me, one day, that he liked me; not just as his therapist, but as a person. I realized that I no longer dreaded our sessions. I realized that I no longer dreaded any of my sessions. I realized that talking to my patients, and caring for them, and improving their lives made me happy. Happier than I had ever been.

     I have come to a point in my life where I want to be more than a speech-pathologist. I love speech-pathology, but my experiences with medicine have shown me that my love for speech-pathology is just an aspect of my love for medicine. Like so many other things, this change was gradual. I never had an "ah-ha!" moment where I knew that I wanted to take care of people. I grew into it. I am good at it.I look at the grades I achieved when taking my recent classes, and I know that there is no challenge I can't face head on and overcome. I have become methodical, thorough, and dependable. I am able to use my mind and skills without being hampered by anxiety. I want to do more for my patients, to be more for my patients. The history of the field, from it's honorable beginnings in military medicine, to it's under-appreciated efforts to help the underserved and underprivileged, draws me to it. The flexibility inherent in the field, and the hard-working and competent physician assistants I have worked with, draws me to it. This is the conclusion of a long series of small steps that have made me what I am today, and the beginning of a new journey that will define what I am to become.

[Guest kennypowers]

On my phone, but will offer more specific advice soon! This statement needs a lot of work, TBH. Your decision to be a PA is barely touched on, and when it is, it's unconvincing. I think you need to place this earlier in your essay and make the reasons more personal. Why does helping the underserved draw you in? Have you shown that's important to you by actually doing it? Why is its foundation of military medicine a reason- have you served? Those are the types of tie in statements that make it believable, so try to think of reasons you can support. Make sure you change your "it's" to "its" (it is vs possessive) and try to come up with another way to say "draws me to it" in your second sentence.

Spend less time on your experience with anxiety and more on "why this profession?" The essay comes off a bit passive, which feeds into the question of whether or not you know what you really want to do (and whether or not you'll change your mind).

I apologize if this comes off as harsh; it's not meant to be! Just shorthanding until I have access to my laptop. You have a great background to work with, but need to change the narration.

[laferri2]

Yeah, I wasn't sure if I was giving enough focus for my reasons for becoming a PA. Most of the example essays I have read are pretty much "This bad thing happened\PA saved my life\family member sick" and I don't fit that mold. I am confident in my writing abilities, it's just a matter of getting the focus right. I have edited the paper to focus more on my patient care.

 

In my life, there has never been an "ah-ha!" moment, a flasb of insight, where I knew what I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. Rather, my life has been a series of small steps and gradual changes, growth so slow and incremental that it is not noticed until well after the fact. In younger days, I was jealous of the people who knew exactly what they wanted to be. I didn't know what I wanted to be. It wasn't until I was an already an adult that I realized that I wanted to be a physician assistant.

 

I graduated from a small high school in Flint, Michigan in 2002. Most of the people there didn't make enough money to have health insurance or anything more than basic medical care. My own parents were financially crippled by medical costs for much of my childhood. I knew I was interested in microbiology and disease, and that was the first major I picked when I went to college. For the first several years, I rarely went to class, and my grades suffered. I wasn't partying, or drinking, or any of the multitude of other irresponsible behaviors that so many students sabotage themselves with. I was filled with anxiety so severe that I couldn't leave my room, and too immature to realize it. It defined me. It wasn't until my third year of college that I began to deal with this anxiety and grow as a person, with small steps. One of my most poignant memories took place during my clinical practicum in graduate school; standing in a bathroom, sweating and shaking, terrified to face my next patient. I remember thinking to myself "You are about to treat a patient who has had their voice taken away from them. Why can't you use yours?". I found my voice, with small steps.

 

During my clinical fellowship year, I treated a patient who had suffered a significant stroke. The patient had a tracheotomy and was comatose on admission to our rehabilitation facility.After a week, he was alert and responsive, with plans to decannulate and close the stoma. The treating physician wanted me to hold off on evaluating until the stoma was closed, so I went and spoke with the patient to appraise him of the plan. Again, the same old anxiety, the same fear of the unknown. Fear that I would fail the patient, that he would laugh at me, or yell at me. I gathered myself and entered the patient's room.I shook his hand, introduced himself, and explained our plan. The patient wasn't happy, as he had been requesting food, but I explained that it was the physician's decision to hold off on evaluating, as the risk of aspiration was high.The patient understood, and the next week our evaluation was scheduled. I worked with that man for three months, five days a week, for forty-five minutes a day. He progressed from being on a feeding tube, to a regular diet, and from having a mild aphasia to having very minimal word-finding deficits. Every time this man talked to me, he smiled. He looked forward to our sessions. It occurred to me, one day, that he liked me; not just as his therapist, but as a person. I realized that I no longer dreaded our sessions; I realized that I no longer dreaded any of my sessions. I had reached a point where talking to my patients, treating them, and improving their lives, made me happy.
 
As time went on, I began to pay more attention to the medical side of my patients' care. I pushed the boundaries of what a speech pathologist can do for a patient. I began to spend a lot of time with the physicians and, especially, the physician assistants involved in the care of my patients, learning from them and seeing the amazing care they gave to their patients. I have come to a point in my life where I want to be more than a speech-pathologist. I love speech-pathology, but my experiences with medicine have shown me that my love for speech-pathology is just an aspect of my love for medicine. I would be lying if I said I had not considered becoming a doctor, but in looking at the history of the field, I am impressed by it's noble beginnings with military medics. My family has a long history of military service and I have a deep respect for the armed services. In looking at the future of the field, I see physician assistants as part of the vanguard of medical professionals providing accessible, competent, effective care to a growing population that needs it. I want to be a part of that. I love a challenge.

 

This is, perhaps, the first time in my life where I know "what I want to be". Like so many other things, this change was gradual. I never had an "ah-ha!" moment where I knew that I wanted to take care of people. I grew into it. I am good at it. I look at the grades I achieved when taking my recent classes, and the successes my patients have achieved, and I know that there is no challenge I can't face head on and overcome. I have become methodical, thorough, and dependable. I am able to use my mind and skills without being hampered by anxiety. I want to do more for my patients, to be more for my patients. This is the conclusion of a long series of small steps that have made me what I am today, and the beginning of a new journey that will define what I am to become.

 

 

 

[Guest kennypowers]

This is sooooo much better. You did a great job on your second draft. There are some noticeable issues with grammar and punctuation, but you now have a solid skeleton to work with. 

I am definitely not the authority on the above issues, but I can at least edit what I know is incorrect.

I'm moving tomorrow, so I likely won't be available until Sunday. I hope someone chimes in before then!