I grew up all around the world because my dad was in the air force. One day in Okinawa, Japan I was home alone with the babysitter. My parents were watching one of my siblings at their soccer game, and meanwhile my sister was in the hospital. The babysitter decided to take us for a trip to visit my sister at the hospital. That turned out to be a bad decision because it was a rainy day.
As we were navigating the treacherous roads, a truck clipped the median, flipped over and landed on top of our car. I was only 3 years old, but I was in the passenger seat. I watched helplessly as the huge truck landed right on top of my little head. It all happened in a flash. My head was crushed. I lost a chunk of my skull, part of my eyebrow and there was a huge gash on one side of my face.
What made this even crazier was the fact that my parents happened to be in the area right at this time. They saw the fire and heard the sirens following the accident but had no idea that it was their own son.
In a fortunate series of events, I ended up at the only hospital in Okinawa with a neurosurgeon. I was in a coma, and the whole situation looked very bleak so the surgeon told my parents to brace themselves for my impending demise. I was pronounced dead no less than three separate times.
They repeatedly made it clear that I wasn’t expected to live. But my parents just stayed strong and prayed a lot. With lots of medical attention, I pulled through a few weeks later. When I woke up, the medical team warned my parents that I would most likely be mentally handicapped for the rest of my life. They mentioned that given the extent of injuries I probably wouldn’t be able to make it through formal school.
While my parents were grateful to have me back after three weeks in a coma, they weren’t quite ready to accept potentially writing off my future just yet. We returned to the United States where I was immediately enrolled in speech and physical therapy. I had different surgeries to correct defects on my cheek and eyebrow as well as laser surgery to reduce scarring on my face. Rehab was challenging, but it gave me an early peek into the healthcare field.
During this entire process, my parents never treated me any differently. They held me to high standards and had the same expectations of me as my other siblings. Their belief in me was very important and reassuring. Their confidence pushed me to be better. They always reminded me that I was capable of achieving what I put my mind to, regardless of any scars I may have had.
Throughout elementary and high school, the scars were a constant source of anguish. It made me an easy target for bullies. Other kids would call me by some really awful nicknames and constantly made fun of my appearance. It really chipped away at my confidence and my personality changed as a result. I went from the loud and outgoing kid to being very reserved and shy.
However, in spite of the hardships I faced, there was still a silver lining. These experiences helped me reevaluate certain priorities and affirmed the kind of qualities to look for in those I surround myself with. I love kind and genuine people. People who just love to help others and carry a positive attitude wherever they go.
Having walked through such difficult experiences and learned from them, I was really excited for college. It was a chance to start fresh and really define where I fit into the world. People didn’t focus the conversation on my scars anymore. I now had the mind space to really focus on what my future could look like. I was interested in medicine coming out of high school and heard about an accelerated seven-year program. I worked hard to give myself a chance. It was a long shot, but I decided to apply with the slimmest of hopes that I would get in.
Despite my doubts, I ultimately was accepted into the FAME program, which is a combined BS and MD degree program run by UTSA and UTHSA. This news was such a big deal to me and my family after everything I went through. My parents’ belief in me felt vindicated. When I first got my acceptance, I cried and immediately called my dad. I remember him telling me how he instantly got on his knees and started profusely thanking God for that moment.
The chance to tell my story on interview day at UTHSA felt like a once in a lifetime opportunity, one which I was determined not to let slip by. Having the admission committee look at me as a potential physician and future advocate for patients was eye opening. It gave me a lot of belief that I could really do something to help people and have a positive impact on the life of others.
The trauma that happened to me early on has led me to a unique position in life today. I am now learning exactly how to take care of others who may experience a similar situation as I did. I hope these values will translate into my practice as a physician. I want to give patients hope. I want to support them and show them that even though things might seem dark and scary sometimes, there can be light at the end of the tunnel.