Which 5 words best describe you? How do those words apply to the type of physician you want to be? 

Most people would describe me as insanely hard-working and incredibly resilient. I would also describe myself as observant, modest, and focused. All of those words embody the ideal physician that I would like to become. A doctor who cares, and is kind, compassionate, and thorough. One who makes the patient feel comfortable and confident in my abilities. Knowing myself all too well, I feel like I will become the type of doctor who might get too invested in caring for a patient. I tend to go above what is necessary, and end up sacrificing a lot to help others. However, this could be beneficial for the patients who need advocating, and I hope that for them, I will be there. 

Who is your role model, and why? 

My biggest role models in life are my parents. Exceptionally hard-working, they have sacrificed so much of their time and happiness to provide me with a better life. My parents both immigrated to the United States when they were minors, and had to learn and survive in a world that was not kind to foreigners. However, they managed to fight and find each other, and continue to invest in me to become my best self. I can't thank them enough. 

What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail? 

I love this question! The first thing that popped into my mind was to fulfill my childhood dream of becoming a pop star. Then I thought of buying a lottery ticket and using the money to help my parents and my family. But honestly, I have so many dreams and so many fears... that's what this question is about, right? If I couldn't fail, I would create a healthcare system that could benefit all people by providing good care to those in need while also adequately compensating the providers and the healthcare teams. 

What was the first experience in your life when you realized you had the power to do something meaningful?

This is a tough question because my memory doesn't go too far back. The experience that first came to mind was back in 2011, when I was the president of the American Cancer Society Club at my high school. As a club, we had the idea to distribute paper bags to every classroom on campus to request change from students to help donate food to families that couldn't afford a meal for Thanksgiving. We raised a little over $1000 in spare change, and were able to purchase enough turkeys to feed over 50 families in our county. While it may not seem tremendously impacting, that we were able to directly help our community in celebrating the season for giving and being thankful by providing a meal felt amazing beyond words. It showed me that even a small act can have a larger, more meaningful impact on the big picture. Maybe, as a physician, I won't find the cure for cancer, or save every single life, but I can make a change by providing my services to the best of my ability, by not giving up on a patient, or by telling their families that we, as a team, did everything we could, and that their family member or friend passed quickly without pain. 

What more do you need to learn and understand about yourself? 

I need to learn what my emotional, mental, and physical limits are. At what point does taking care of a patient become too much for me, that I begin de-compensating? I think this is a lesson I'm going to need to learn the hard way--- by experiencing it. If there does come a time that I realize I'm not in the best shape to care for a patient, then I want to recognize it and find a colleague who can better care for him or her.

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If you knew you only had 5 years left to live, what would you do differently today? 

5 years?! I would honestly drop out of medical school immediately, and spend all the time I could with my parents, my fiance, and my friends and family. I would urge my parents to take more time off of work (or retire already!) so we could travel back to their homelands, and I could experience it with them for the first time. Time is so precious, and as long as my quality of life would be the same as now, I would use what skills I had to do the most good I could in the world. 

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There is this quote by Erma Bombeck that I love: "When I stand before God at the end of my life, I hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything You gave me.'" 

What sacrifices are you willing to make for your career? 

As sad as this sounds, what sacrifices haven't I already made? I gave up a lot of friendships, love, and time with people who mean the world to me, in order to get to where I am today. I chose to walk this path when I was a young girl. As long as God keeps guiding me down it, I know He'll provide everything else. It may be a cheesy answer, but it's the truth. He hasn't let me down yet, and I know that the people who truly care about me and sincerely want me to succeed will understand and not leave my side. 

What was the most significant thing you learned about yourself so far in your medical career? 

I learned that I'm not superwoman, and I'm not invincible. I've learned that I need to take care of my health and manage my stress in positive ways. I've done so by hiking more often, getting some fresh air, and setting reasonable, achievable goals for myself daily. This has helped immensely in balancing my life, and I'm happier now. 

What challenges have you faced, and how did you overcome them? 

When I was volunteering at the Santa Barbara Convalescent Hospital as a Raggedy Ann with the Adventures in Caring Program, I was blessed to meet Guillermo, a blue eyed, grey-haired Casanova who was one of the patients there. Every week, I visited with him, and we talked, laughed, and bonded over chocolate peanut butter cups, vanilla ice cream, the LA Dodgers, and his love for his family. The purpose of me visiting the hospital was to bring joy to patients and give them company, however with Guillermo, it was as if the roles were reversed. He soon became a close friend, my confidante, and someone whom I treasured very deeply. During the last month of my time volunteering at the convalescent hospital, I told Guillermo I wouldn't be in for two weeks, but to wait for me. He said, "okay, I'll miss you", gave me a kiss on the cheek, and waved me goodbye. When I returned for what was my very last shift, I rounded the corner and expected to see his TV on, the Dodgers playing on the screen... but the TV was gone. The bed was made fresh, and Guillermo, I had learned, had died three days prior. My heart was absolutely crushed. When I had talked with his nurse, she told me that he had signed a DNI/DNR form, and I think that was when I lost it. At the time, I didn't understand why someone would sign such a form when they were capable of being resuscitated. I could not accept that I didn't get the chance to say goodbye, and losing Guillermo truly made me question if I should become a physician. It wasn't until weeks later that I found closure. My program coordinator, Shelley, asked me to come into the Adventures in Caring office because she had something to give to me. It was the #1 Fan foam finger that I had given Guillermo after I found out that we were both avid Dodger fans. I think it was then, that I realized he was still cheering me on, and telling me that it was okay. I was going to be okay. And he was okay. I understood that he left because he was ready to go. He no longer wanted to live on an Earth in which he was bedridden and away from family. Once I accepted it, I was able to learn and grow from this experience. However, this has been one of the greatest challenges I've had to emotionally overcome in my pursuit to becoming a physician. 

When it's all over,  how do you want to be remembered?

If I could be remembered by the people I love as someone who loved them with everything I had, that would be enough for me.

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