Personal Statement : My Grandmother

It is undoubtedly because of my parents, and their unwavering support, that I have decided to dedicate my energy towards helping others. Both of them inspired my love affair with science and medicine in their own ways, and not just through their support of me and my decisions. Before I graduated high school, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. Her doctors were amazing, and the support staff we met with were equally incredible. This positive experience during this difficult period cemented in my mind that whatever I did, I wanted to help people. For years, my father struggled with prescription drug abuse, before finally checking himself into a rehabilitation facility. His eventual triumph over his addiction has inspired me in ways he could never imagine. Discovering effective medicines that do not hold a risk for dependency is an issue that is very personal for me and is something that I am determined to pursue once I am finished my PharmD degree.

Listening to the accounts of my grandmother’s experiences during World War II as she described how her windows were once blown in due to a German bomb falling close to where she lived, has always triggered my enthusiasm and interest for History. I am fascinated by how World War II shaped the political, economic and social landscape of post-war Britain and how it continues to shape the changing world we live in today.

Every summer since middle school I went back to Taiwan to take care of my grandpa. His health started to fail these recent years but my parents worked every summer so my dad would always send me back to care for my grandpa. Many people worked as interns or took classes during the summer while I worked as a caretaker in hospitals. At first I disliked my role as an caretaker because I believed that I was not gaining anything valuable and I was also not enjoying myself like all my friends. As the summers progressed I was able to get firsthand view of how the doctors would work endlessly to treat their patients while the nurses would work to ensure their comfort. I would just stay behind and watch them work to try and treat my grandpa for whatever disease he had at the time. Whenever my grandpa was ready to leave the hospital I would always see how grateful he was toward the doctors because they literally saved his life. The next summer when I went back to Taiwan this scenario would replay itself again.

So i spent the night at my grandma and grandpas and in the morning we all woke up in the morning we all got in the van and all the kids including me took nap in back and when we got there we had to put camper up and take boat to ramp to get it to the campsite

My Grandmother goes by the name of babunya, and baba for short, this means grandma in Ukrainian. She lived in Ukraine for most of her life, and she is almost 90 years old now. She’s been through a lot in her years, thus her appearance has changed. For every wrinkle she has there’s a story to match. She has had every color hair: blonde, red, brown, and black. Now her hair is a short gray color. She keeps it short because it stays out of the way, even though she hates it short. She has always had long her until now. She has also progressively become shorter over the years due to a very bad back; she now stands just under five feet. Since she spends most of her days in the garden her usual outfit

I remember it like it was yesterday, even though I was only three. We were all at home;

I am most content when I am at my grandparent’s house. It is the most relaxing place in the world. Right as I walk in the door, the smell of either fresh baked cookies or hot blueberry pancakes with maple syrup make you feel welcomed right as you walk in the door. But that is just the great smell, they taste even better. My grandma’s cookies are always good but are best right out of the oven. The soft heated cookie with melted chocolate chips just melts in your mouth. And my grandpa's mouthwatering steaming blueberry pancakes can make anybody feel great and ready for their day. One of my favorite thing to do is watch sports with grandpa. It isn't much but it relaxes me. Another great memory is Easter. Every Easter

After roasting marshmallows, the sticky sweet on my sons' fingers, my father stares into the coals, starts talking about his mother, my grandmother, my sons' great-grandmother. He tells of how she fought her death to the end, even under the morphine drip. Nonverbal tantrums on her bed.

The hushed quiet was deafening the house. I come from a family of four, noise always echoing through the walls, peace never being near. Normally, such lack of noise would be welcoming; but today it was earth-shattering. The minivan was packed faster than you could blink, voices raised tempers flared. A peaceful Tuesday was gone.

For this week it was still a struggle for my grandma Bonnie to recall events. We were on the phone for about 10 minutes and it felt like she was disappointed that she was unable to recall her childhood at this stage. I decided to ask if she could tell me a story about any of my aunts or my dad again. My grandma wanted to tell me a story about my dad what she believed was when he was at the age of four or five. At this time my grandma had her hands full, she had five children, two who were recently born (twins) from her story of my dad. She went on to tell me it could be a struggle at times because my grandpa served our country and was always away while she stayed at home with the children living on an Airforce base. To lighten up on the

One day when grandma Karen was watching me and my sister I asked Callie if she wanted to go look somewhere else? She said sure. After like five mins we started to walk back to where grandma Karen was. Callie ran ahead, when I got there no one was there exstep for Callie. Then she started to freak out! She started screaming and screaming, “grandma, grandma” I said for her to come with me to find one of the workers. We were really lucky because two mins later I saw one. We ran up to her. Before I could say anything she started talking, she said are you ok, do you want candy, oh do you have to go to the bathroom??? I just roled my eyes at her and said we can’t find are grandma, can you help? She said she couldn’t, but new someone who could. When

The past can tell more than the future. I interviewed my grandma about her past. She was born on August 5, 1959. My Grandma became the oldest of three brothers. At school, she considered herself an A - B student. Her hobbies were painting ceramics, reading and playing. After school Grandma would play hide and seek or follow the leader. Her favorite toys were metal slinky and her very own bike. She loved play in the pool or hide closet where her brothers couldn’t find her. When my Grandma was 13 she rode horses and trained a dog for 4H. She moved eight times in her life land her brothers became her friends. Then life happened to her and she had 2 kids and became a grandma. I asked her how my mom and uncle differed. They are very different

I'm doing an interview on my mom Paula because she had a very colorful past. First off, she was born on January 30, 1972 In Cedar Rapids, Iowa thirteen years later she was hit by a car and broke her left leg fast. Forward three years later and she got Hodgkin's disease; a type of cancer that influenced her to live life to the fullest her grandmother also influenced her with lots of things in life especially cooking her high school was uneventful because of cancer she graduated from the university of Iowa in 1999 where she got her bachelor of science and phycology she had two kids the first was in December 2008 and her second one was in 2008 in November after that she. Was a cook for fifteen years she was also a bus driver next she went back

I will tell you a tale of a woman of great success. This is a woman that has inspired me to be something great one day and to never give up trying. Though she may be growing into her elderly years she has lived a very challenging, joyful, loving and successful life. She is a woman of great faith and character, she is my grandmother.

At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, criss­crossing over her thin, frail fingers.