My Experience At My Grandfather

One of the main missions of the university is to help underserved communities. I believe that both my personal and academic experience has engrained in me the qualities that are essential for completing medical school and becoming a doctor. I want to become an osteopathic doctor that is involved in the community and serves those who lack proper health care. My primary care doctor, who is an osteopathic doctor, influenced my decision to pursue osteopathic medicine. She taught me that osteopathic medicine consists of treatment with holistic approaches, and it involves an education in physical manipulation. This aspect is particularly of interest to me because this is an approach that is used in India. Overall, I believe that I am a thoroughly qualified candidate to pursue a DO degree from Touro college of Osteopathic Medicine. The sheer pleasure I derive from helping people and sharing what I know, coupled with the mental stimulation intrinsic to the profession, make medicine the clear career pathway for

When you think of losing a grandparent in your life, you think of them passing away. You dread the day you will get the call that they are sick. You then begin to cherish all the moments you have with them leading up to their passing. You have time to except their sickness, and come to terms with the outcome that is to come. My PopPop is not here anymore, but do not get confused, for he is alive. I did not have warning. I did not have time to cherish him. I did not have time to say goodbye. My PopPop was on no medication, which was almost uncanny for a 75-year-old. Trying to encompass everything he was boils down to a few things that may not seem like much to someone who didn’t know him. He went on a walk every night after dinner, and would whistle the same tune when he was happy. He played the same little ditty on the piano every time we were all in the living room. He was a simple man who could not harm a fly, and a good man. Unlike the grandchild warned when they are going to lose a grandparent, I did not have this notice. I did not have time to go on one last walk with him, and I did not have time to record him on the piano. I did not have time to replicate his whistling song, or to spend time with the man I knew. My PopPop was the heathiest man I knew, but then he got depression. First slowly, then all at once. The man I knew had slipped from my fingers without any chance to hold on tighter.

Truthfully, as an undergraduate I knew very little about the osteopathic profession. In 2013, however, I began working as a medical scribe with Dr. Ghaffari-Greene, DO, in the Sibley ER and she opened my eyes to the beauty of osteopathic medicine. Thanks to Dr. Ghaffari-Greene, and a number of other osteopathic physicians in the ER, I have come to understand what osteopathic medicine is all about. Three years after my first exposure to the osteopathic profession, I continue to be motivated to become an osteopathic physician for many reasons. These include the following:

There have been countless influential people in my life that I’ve come across. One who was a meticulous inspiration continues to be my grandfather. My grandmother had remarried to the one I call “grandpa” when I was at the age of five, and they both took to each other’s grandchildren as their own. With my mother and me only living a mile down the road from their farmhouse out in the country, I’d spent heaps amount of time there as a child. Indeed, I had been without a father but my grandfather stepped up to the plate and had taken me under his wing and willingly played the personification of a father figure.

My desire to be an osteopathic physician came after attending an OMM session during my gap years as a research fellow at the NIH. This experience contributed to my interest in osteopathic medicine, as I was intrigued by the musculoskeletal manipulation techniques, and deeply appreciated the hands-on, holistic approach to patient care. I feel strongly that training as an osteopath, will prove invaluable in my career as I work deliver quality treatment to underserved communities.

Since I plan on treating underserved individuals that will likely have limited or no medical coverage, I feel osteopathic medicine is an excellent choice. More specifically, I believe that osteopathic medicine at Pikeville will be advantageous due to its published focus on communities like those I intend to provide care for. The benefits of not being limited to just pharmaceuticals, and having additional medical tools such as osteopathic manipulative therapy (OMT) will be beneficial to covered and non-covered patients alike. Accompanying patient education that promotes positive lifestyle changes together with the self-healing philosophy will be centralized in my practice. In my experience, educating patients not only helps fight the current ailments, but decreases the likelihood that others will occur. Treating the mind, body, and spirit as one unit makes intuitive sense. I know treating the whole person yields better outcomes for a particular ailment and positively affects the mind, body, and spirit. After looking over Pikeville University’s philosophy, I feel it will be a great school to aide my quest in becoming an osteopathic healer. I plan on bringing a high quality whole body approach to my patients without the overuse of medication allowing the body to self-heal and self-regulate. For these reasons, I apply to Pikeville and anticipate success at the

I first learned and introduced to osteopathic medicine by Dr. John Landrum, the director of the FIU Office of Pre-Health Professions. As I begin my undergraduate career here at FIU, I was concerned about my future prospects and curious about continuing my education after earning an undergraduate degree. My appointment with Dr. Landrum in the office was a very informative session. When I told Dr. Landrum of my interest in the study medicine, first question he mentioned to me was “Are you applying to M.D. or D.O. programs?” I was stunned, because at the time I had never heard of osteopathic medicine and thought that there is only one type of medicine, which is allopathic. Then we further discussed about the values and philosophies behind each

I grew up in the bustling city of Lagos, then moved to the small town of Benin City, Nigeria, then to inner city New Jersey, and finally to suburban Texas. In this time I have developed a more nuanced worldview that enables me to empathize with people in different situations. Furthermore, I have also become exposed to the different sides of healthcare. Ten years ago, my left knee gave out from under me. Fearing medical costs, my mother diagnosed it as a simple dislocation. There was no indication of lingering damage until three years later when the knee gave out again with a sharp pain. This pain persisted for months, but my parents’ distrust in the quality of treatment of complex health problems in Nigeria forced me to learn to deal with it.

An expectation of an osteopathic physician is to express empathy for all patients, regardless of ethnicity, socioeconomic status, or beliefs. As a student volunteer, I traveled to underserved communities in the Dominican Republic and Panama where I learned that medicine has the power​ to unify people, build bridges, and communicate and collaborate across cultures. Though I had challenged my own sense of reality before, walking in the shoes of patients, many of whom lived in impoverished conditions, gave me to opportunity to understand just how different two lives can be. I was able to differentiate between up-close empathy and distant sympathy. Despite a language barrier, I examined and diagnosed at least twenty patients each day, conceptualizing the different steps a physician must take when interacting with a patient. I am now involved in a student-run clinic that provides a multitude of healthcare services to a rural,

I have an abundance of grotesque, yet, barely visible memories of childhood. However, no breathtaking family trips, no unique family togetherness that taught a moral lesson, no abnormal holidays. We still ate family meals together, but most often the children and adults lived in different worlds. When I needed comforting or wanted the best of both worlds, I could turn to my Grandpa.

Many turning points have occurred in my life, but I would say one really sticks out for me. This was when my granddad died in 2010. I talked about this event and how it affected my life in a thought piece earlier this year, but I thought this would be a good opportunity to elaborate on such a life changing event.

For many people, Grandpa is a storyteller, someone to go fishing with, and someone who has your back no matter what. The experience I had with my grandpa was a little different. I never got the opportunity to meet my great-grandfather Liston Grider, but he still somehow managed to have a huge impact on my life. Sometimes my mom would tell stories about him; happy memories from her childhood, sad ones that were painful for her to tell, and everything in between. I thought I had heard it all, but this past summer I learned something about my great grandpa that would perhaps impact my life forever. This story was not told by my mom like usual, but by someone who was a complete stranger to me. The lessons I learned would not be taught in a single day, but over the span of a month through a series of Facebook messages and letters in the mail. The words I read upon opening those messages and letters would change my life forever, permanently transform my beliefs, and show me what it truly means to be an American.

I think the person who has had the most profound effect on my life besides my parents is my grandfather. I never realized before how much of an effect he had on my interests and goals for the future. Years ago, he used to tell me stories about historical events and experiences he had fighting in Vietnam and my great grandfather fighting in World War 2. His vivid descriptions always made it so interesting and, in some cases, more light-hearted than what actually happened. To this day he still has more stories to tell me, and never fails to captivate my interest. In doing this, he opened my eyes to my biggest interest, history, and encouraged me to pursue this interest throughout school. I feel like it would help to give a short summary of his life and how it affected me.

When we were together we were invincible, us against the world. I’d look up to him, not only because he was 6’4, but because he was my grandpa. I have clear memories of him picking me up from school, playing old school reggae music during our adventurous car rides. We’d always sing along to our favorites, sometimes turn the music up so loud the people in the cars next to us could hear it. When I would visit his apartment, the familiar smell of drywall and pennies would fill the air. It was my hideaway, my home away from home. My grandpa collected pennies in water jugs. He would say that one day they’d be worth more than just pennies. I loved it there, not only because he had a freezer filled with many flavors of ice cream to which he would often say to me “you can have all you can eat” but because it was our time to bond. For five years it was my mom, my dad, and my grandpa helping me to grow. Those are my favorite people, my role models. Being around my grandpa brought me such comfort and joy.

“I can’t believe that’s true!” I exclaimed, my laughter echoing through the room. My grandpa and I had been chatting on the phone for the past half an hour. You would imagine a man his age would be boring and dull. However, he was quite the joker. At least with me, since I was, of course, his favorite granddaughter.