“Celebrations infuse life with passion and purpose. They summon the human spirit.” – Terrence E. Deal

As a 19-year-old, I applied for a number of health-related internships. I had dreamed of an internship in the health journalism space and ultimately was granted an opportunity at Texas Children’s Hospital with one of my best friends. I had initially been disappointed about my assignment. At that time, I was certain that the best way to disrupt global health disparities would be via journalism. It took one day on the pediatric hematology/oncology ward for me to realize that I wanted to be a pediatric hematologist-oncologist. 

Since that time, I’ve dreamed of ways to intersect my passion for change/advocacy with pediatric hematology/oncology; I’ve watered the part of my soul that is nourished by literature and journalism; I’ve sat through undergraduate and graduate courses that explore global health disparities and integrated those themes into both my undergraduate thesis and MPHTM capstone. 

When I applied for medical school, I shared that I wanted to be a pediatric hematologist-oncologist and that I wanted my efforts to have global health implications. “Geography dictates outcomes” I said and while my interviewers agreed with that sentiment (I mean…it’s a fact), many shared that I would change my mind about my future discipline & others shared that it would be impossible to create an academic career in global pediatric hematology-oncology.

When I applied for residency, I shared that I had pursued a MD/MPHTM so that I would cultivate the necessary skills to become a pediatric hematologist-oncologist with global health impact. “Geography dictates outcomes” I said and the response was variable. Some interviewers shared that my passion was infectious albeit short-sighted. Others echoed what I had heard during my medical school interviews. Others encouraged me to dream. I had the great fortune to have the opportunity to intersect with a global pediatric hematology-oncology legend, KOF, at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. I had the opportunity to spend a month on the pediatric hematology/oncology ward in Gabarone, Botswana which only confirmed my desire to pursue this work. 

When I applied for fellowship, I shared that I wanted to pursue work that would contribute to efforts to improve outcomes after curative therapy (bone marrow transplant/gene therapy) for children in Sub-Saharan Africa. I found myself at a program that was excited about my vision and helped me to design a way to pursue such work as a fellow. 

I have heard for over a decade that my dreams are impossible and at times, I believed that. This grant from ASH has breathed life into my mission and is a “yes” that makes clear to me that this work is worthwhile. My gratitude to ASH knows no bounds and even as I type this, a few tears of gratitude fall. My gratitude includes those who have supported me as I have navigated this journey. Most importantly: my parents, siblings, aunts/uncles, grandparents, cousins. Additionally, my chosen family – the friends who encouraged me along the way and supported me during grant season. Lastly, I have infinite gratitude for all the research mentors who have led by example and taught me how to marry advocacy with academia.

Thank you to ASH and thank you to my tribe. And for the children of Sub-Saharan Africa, this one’s for you. 

“I Matched!”

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July of last year, I asked one of my advisors if I should apply to institutions like Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP) or BCRP or Cincinnati for my upcoming residency application cycle. And he looked at me and said: “Historically, people from Tulane do not match to CHOP or BCRP. And quite frankly, you aren’t junior AOA, so…if you wanna spend the money, I won’t stop you. But I just want you to be informed.”  Continue reading

Lessons from the Wards: Isley

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For those of us participating in the NRMP match, today is a big day. Scrawled in all capital letters in the box attributed to February 21st is “submission day.” In other words: rank lists are due. It’s crazy to believe that in less than a month, we’re going to find out: if we get our first job in medicine, whether or not we will have to move, and if we need to invest in a new wardrobe (like omg winter coats?). Pre-match anxiety is real (beyond real) and I’ve found myself re-reading my personal statement when I need a dose of reality, when I need a reminder of why I’m letting an algorithm decide my future, or when I need a source of motivation.

Some of you guys have reached out with questions about personal statements. My response: write something incredibly honest. There is no right way to approach your personal statement. I wanted to share a version of my personal statement with y’all. To all the fellow fourth years, hang in there my friends!

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“For happiness one needs security, but joy can spring like a flower even from the cliffs of despair” – Anne Morrow Lindbergh

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Too often, we find ourselves trapped in the mindset of “have to.” I have to go to work. I have to study. I have to go see the new patient in room 6. I have to make time to workout. I have to meet up with my friend for dinner.

I know I am not alone in this.

We, professional students, get caught in the whirlwind of our responsibilities and our interests. To-do lists that stretch far too long down the page serve as our lifesource. We are unfailingly hardworking. We schedule naps. We schedule social time. We fail to be spontaneous.

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“Here’s to the unknown, the smiles and the tears and the laughs we haven’t had yet.” – O.L.

Happy New Year’s Eve everyone! The quote that serves as the title of this post is an excerpt from a poem I discovered earlier today. Simple in its construction, the poem has great depth. I want to share the poem, “Honest Toasts for the New Year” in its entirety before I dive into the rest of this post.

New Year’s Eve and we are all
holding flutes of cheap champagne,
with people we don’t know
or don’t care for, or we wish we could
just leave behind with this year
and we are all toasting,
glasses raised above crooked halos.

Here’s to the friends we lost,
the friends that left us behind,
the friends we haven’t met yet
and the friends that are bound
to be more than.

Here’s to the knives wedged
between shoulder blades
and blood slick ribs,
grazing our hearts as we breathe.
Here’s to the pain
that made us stronger.

Here’s to the resolutions we didn’t keep,
the ones we will make again
and again and again,
but habits are hard to break.
Here’s to consistency.

Here’s to the lips we kissed,
bruised, bit, lavished
and all the lips we will come
in contact with in the future.
Here’s to love.

Here’s to the scars
and the pieces of ourselves
we had to cut off to make it,
the fractures of glass that we are leaving
in this hellhole of a year.

Here’s to the unknown,
the smiles and the tears and the laughs
we haven’t had yet.
Here’s to next year, the New Year,
hopefully it will be better
and we will learn just as much.

Feel free to read the rest of O.L.’s poetry at this link.

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