How I Decided to Become a Physician Assistant

I spent the entire month of August in the hospital at my grandmother’s bedside. Her fingers felt limp, and they offered no resistance when I squeezed them. At times when I felt some slight pressure, almost indiscernible, I would watch her face. She opened her eyes to meet my gaze just moments before the muscles in her face contracted, as if in pain. Her eyes clamped shut in a last grimace, and I sat in silence as I heard each inhalation come several seconds after the last. As a five-year-old child, I began to view this as my grandmother’s baseline.

In earlier months after she received chemotherapy, I would lay beside her while she taught me how to read. Her hair eventually grew sparse in the weeks I learned how to write. She showed me how to prepare simple meals for myself as the nausea and indisposition became more frequent. The decline in her health was not something I was very conscious of when I was young; all I knew was that my grandmother had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and I remained completely unafraid. Her body appeared fragile and weak, but I believed she was becoming stronger with age, just as I was.

Through my early exposure to this unavoidable pain and suffering, I learned ways to spread compassion and gentle support to others in life. Overall, I would say this marked the beginning of my growth in passion for medicine.

I began my college career not having the slightest idea of what a physician assistant was. In fact, I went in as a biology major to become a dentist having had no true passion or interest in that occupation. My sister had been succeeding as a dentist, and I simply knew I wanted to succeed in healthcare as well. Unfortunately, the lack of passion reflected negatively on my grades. I felt lost and unsatisfied with what I was doing, and I lost focus on academics. I knew change had to occur, and I was eager to find the right path for myself.

I started off with the first connection I had and shadowed a plastic surgeon in an operating room (OR). The team performed a deep inferior epigastric perforator flap (DIEP) surgery for a patient post mastectomy. I distinctly remember the surgeon and his colleague isolating the deep inferior epigastric vessels, teasing out the artery for later anastomosis to the chest, and lifting the flap as the abdominal muscles were mostly preserved. Several hours passed, and we stepped out of the OR for a break as I socialized with the staff. I asked the surgeon’s colleague about her career and past experiences as a doctor. To my surprise, she immediately clarified that she was not a doctor; she was a physician assistant (PA). She then told me about her years of experience in family medicine and cardiology. I was initially confused, but once she continued to explain how much time she had invested in different specialties, I felt something click in my mind. I was impressed not only by the responsibility she took on during the procedure but also the flexibility within her career. She enlightened me on several challenging opportunities that could come from a single occupation. Since then, I have viewed the profession as an incredible opportunity for growth and advancement.

Soon after, I began to shadow more PAs through primary care clinics and volunteering, which motivated me to change my major. There was an immediate uptrend in my grades and my attitude. I celebrated by completing a public health internship in Mexico and accepting a scribing position upon my return. While I was now studying public health, I pushed myself to dive deeper into preventive clinical practices and health promotion within my community.

I spent several weekends volunteering in primary care clinics, engaging in community health and intervention projects, and gaining experience in an emergency department. I came to realize I found work most rewarding when helping vulnerable patient populations. With this I have gotten to see a very human side of people I otherwise would not have. I have screened chronically ill patients in impoverished communities struggling to find access to care as their conditions worsen. I have tended to children with dirtied skin on the streets of Mexico, begging tirelessly for nourishment and care as their mothers were nowhere to be found. I have pushed myself into these settings, which has also made me aware of the need for providers in more rural and medically underserved areas.

In light of these experiences, I have asked myself the following question: how can I truly be of service to people in their most vulnerable moments? I want to live a life more responsible for helping people realize the importance of their own health. I want to encourage others to be more conscious of preventive care and the powerful impact it could make on their families. As I strive to deliver compassionate care to vulnerable populations, I hope to do so with the same personal care that comforted me in my youth.