Broken Bones But not Spirit

Born in the snow, raised in the sand, I moved from Alberta, Canada to Sanibel Island, Florida at the age of two. Living on an island for most my life shaped me in many ways. My kindergarten classmates, became my high school buddies, and have continued to be my college friends. Growing up in a small town meant that everyone knew each other, which made it easy for me to find my way into the spotlight. It didn't take me long to do so. At eight years old I began performing magic. What started as an occasional birthday party for kids on the block evolved into a business, when at twelve I started doing magic table-side at a restaurant four nights a week, something I have continued to do for the last nine years. I have since been hired to perform all over the world, for private parties as well as for several Fortune 500 company events. Essentially running a business from a young age has proven to be an immeasurable asset. I have gained an ability to work with adults, to communicate effectively, budget successfully, and most importantly to remember the importance of having fun while working.

Magic has proven to be an incredible tool in its ability to act as non-medicinal pain reliever for children who are ill. I have been able to use this talent to bring smiles to children's faces at the hospital in my hometown for the last several years. Yet while many of these one-on-one experiences have contributed to my desire to study medicine, the single experience that has had the most profound effect on this decision was not the result of my visiting patients, but rather from when I became one myself.

My friends came home from last summer with stories of vacations and summer jobs. Mine were much different. In early June, someone pulled through a red light ahead of me and we hit nearly head on, each going fifty miles an hour. My car spun through traffic and I collided with a telephone pole across the street. Both bones in my leg were at ninety degree angles, and I had broken my back. I remember lying on the asphalt waiting for the ambulance to come, trying to force myself not to pass out with the fear that I would never wake up. I was a half a mile from my house.

I had surgery that night, and spent nearly a week in the hospital. The day I returned home, the phone rang. It was my grandmother and she was crying. My grandfather had died that morning. Four days later I was carried to his funeral, where I gave the eulogy. I spent the next eight weeks confined to bed, all of my plans for the summer shattered along with my leg. I was supposed to be teaching both tennis lessons and a magic workshop, as well as performing magic tableside four nights a week. Now I could barely sit up.

But while my bones may have been broken by the car accident, and my heart by the phone call, I did my best to not allow my spirit to be broken as well. I knew the silver lining was there, and I chose to chase after it rather than just lay in bed in self pity. I had my computer moved to my bedside and finished writing a book that I had been working on for a few years. I rented all of the movies that my friends had always made fun of me for never seeing. I read every single day, rereading my favorites. I talked with my grandmother daily, and got to spend more time with my family than I had since I was in elementary school.

Being an avid believer that everything happens for a purpose, I have been able to gain much from that summer. I had wanted to a pediatrician for as long as I can remember, and having now been on the other side of the operating table this desire has been reaffirmed tenfold. In fact, I believe that I have started my medical education early in that I have first been a patient. I have felt what it's like to not know if I would walk the same again, and to have more questions than answers, and these experiences will be forefront in my mind when I am working with patients on a human to human level. While it is true that my stories that summer may not have been exciting as those of my friends, the knowledge I have gained from that time will last indefinitely. My compassion for people, evidenced by my extensive volunteer record, coupled with my passion for knowledge and my scholastic accomplishments, will work in harmony as I begin my career as a medical student, and eventually as a physician.