Chasing dreams

While chasing a dream, you will never be walking down the path of least resistance. Yet somehow we gather the chards of broken confidence, glue them together with a little hope, pray with a lot of faith, and work until things can't not work out. And just sometimes the stars align and we get lucky, to no fault of our own.

I always knew I wanted to work in medicine. I was never squeamish. Rather the opposite, the more I learned about the body and health, the more I thirsted to know more.

When I was 13 years old I injured my knee playing basketball outside, and for a few months we were not sure what was wrong. I began searching on the Internet for signs and symptoms. Then after returning from the doctor with the diagnosis of a torn cruciate ligament and planned surgery, I went home dejected. The bright side was I was given lots of handouts and literature about surgery and recovery. I read those cover to cover hundreds of time and still have them to this day. My medical mind started becoming curious.

That next year I enrolled at Mayfield High School. I saw a spot open for a sports medicine class. The instructor, and eventually one of my mentors, Doc Acklin AT-C invited me to drop the class because it was for juniors and seniors. I somehow convinced him I would not only get an A, I would show I knew more than his upperclassmen. I was called "freshmen" every day of my that class for a year but it seemed a small price to pay to be in an environment learning about medicine.

As a junior I was working as a teacher's aide and ran into the Romanelli family. I became their nanny, although that was just the beginning of the support they gave me. Their father, Dan, was an orthopedic surgeon. I remember watching the kids, and as they were busy with homework or playing with other friends, I would quickly grab the American Journal of Medicine or ABOS he had laying around and read them cover to cover. I would look up the things I didn't understand and take notes on the things I did.

Playing college basketball, I spent far too much time in the athletic training room as many can attest to. From nursing my injuries to trying to pep talks to my friends, it always seemed like a place for healing. I had a bad back injury between my freshmen and sophomore years which ended up with me having three back surgeries, a serious infection, and quite a long summer in and out of the hospital. Throughout that time, I took silent notes about the whole process and the painful side of healing from the patient's perspective. I never want to go back to that summer, but it convinced me even more that medicine was what I wanted to do.

Jump to 2013. I had just graduated from New Mexico State University with a degree in Kinesiology and business. I had been back from serving a LDS mission in Argentina a few months previous.  Knowing there wasn't much left in Las Cruces for me, I found a job at a private orthopedic surgery clinic in Salt Lake City UT. I knew I wanted to go to grad school but couldn't decide between medical school and physician assistant schooling. It was a decision that tugged at my heart every day. My supervising physician, who I hold great respect for, told me every day I should go to medical school and that I'd be a great doctor. I didn't doubt that, but didn't feel at ease with that answer.

After months of deep reflection and prayers, I knew becoming a physician assistant was what I wanted to do. I had met other physician’s assistant who loved their jobs and inspired me- Mahli Michael, Raul Rios, Lindsey Marshall, Anna Peterson, and Karen Gunter. I want more than anything to be a great wife and mother. Call me traditional, but I know mothering a family is one of the most sacred and special callings we can have in this life. I didn't want that to take backseat to a job as a physician. Could it have worked out to do both? Absolutely, people do it all the time. But I never wanted to have to make that choice to take ER call or spend the night with my sick child. Wanting to help coach my kid's basketball team but knowing I had to still work full time to pay off the 10 years of medical school debt would be hard for me. I want to be a wife and mother first, and a health practitioner second.  Plus you can switch specialties and settings, work in a team with a physician, and have shorter time in school. Physician assistant was a win-win for me.

January 2014. I started back to school to take some necessary prerequisites. Two weeks later I got in a head on collision with a driver who ran a stop sign. I tried to keep up with church responsibilities, full time work, and school but was falling apart physically and emotionally.  I couldn't keep up and didn't get the help I needed with the instructor and failed the class and lab- something I had never done in my entire life. I re took it in the summer along with a few others.

Right as summer semester ended I began writing my essays and finishing PA applications but got injured again (almost 6 months to the day). In a freak accident on my mountain bike, I tumbled down the side of a mountain after a bad calculated placement of my rear tire on a narrow single track trail. With just a few stitches and a cracked helmet, I walked away miraculously much better than I should of. But as the days passed, I realized the concussion I sustained was not going to go away as quickly as I had hoped- actually it was getting worse. Memory loss, paralyzing anxiety, and constant headaches became the common side effects that didn't want to go away. Still attending school and balancing all my same responsibilities, I pressed on and submitted my applications for PA school. I turned everything in right on the deadline, hoping for a miracle.

January 2015. After months of waiting, I came to the conclusion that nothing was going to happen this year. I was completely devastated. I had worked so hard, done so much volunteering, taken so many classes, spent so much money on these PA applications. After a heart wrenching breakup with a boyfriend and having the rejection letters arrive in the mail weekly, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and get back to work. Still struggling with lingering concussion side effects, I enrolled in 12 credits of classes and a GRE prep class on the side. Maybe at least making yourself swim in deep water would build strong endurance?

Fast forward to now. I survived that spring semester, barely survived summer, but at least I can live to tell about it. During the summer I worked on perfecting the applications (with help from my savvy dad)  and submitted as soon as the new cycle opened. Although I was still struggling with self-doubt and lingering concussion effects, I had faith it wasn't permanent. I started volunteering as a temple ordinance worker, something that was vital for pulling me out of the hole I had dug for myself. And guess what? Slowly and surely I started hearing back from PA schools.

The first interview I went to Boston and had the trip of a lifetime with Erin my sister and visiting our great aunt Laurel Thatcher Ulrich. Everything with the interview couldn't have gone better and I felt it was where I needed to be. I interviewed with the medical director (who is a high up MD at MGH and Harvard, originally from Mexico) and connected well with him and did some of the interview in Spanish. I had many good confirmations in various ways in the weeks that passed. When I received the email of acceptance, I dropped to the side of my desk at work and prayed; I gave thanks to my Maker. How could something so wonderful happen to me? Why did I deserve such mercy?

To somewhat confirm my feelings on Boston before I accepted (spoiler), I went to interview at University of Maryland. I was taken off guard when as soon as I sat down on the flight to the east coast- I heard the words "you know this isn't where you are supposed to be" flash into my mind. It was still a great trip as I visited a close childhood friend and his wife- Mark and Olivia Guthrie. I was grateful for the opportunity to not only visit dear friends but confirm that I had already received the answer in my heart to where I was to go.

Which brings me to now. The day after the interview (while still in Baltimore), I put down the enrollment deposit and accepted at Massachusetts General Hospital Institute of Health Professions. Since then I've felt a rollercoaster of emotions- fear, feeling of inadequacy, worry about being so far from home, worry if this little New Mexican girl can make it in a big town and hospital in New England. But yet again I was humbled when on my weekly Park City commute I was listening to a podcast and had the distinct impression- "Emily, you are lacking faith". So there, ok God I get it haha. Working on that faith thing…

Until then I'm working with my orthopedic surgery group, enjoying the beauty of Utah (snowboarding and biking), spending time with many amazing friends, enjoying the time living close to Erin, working at the temple, serving in my ward/congregation, reading all the books I have stacked up on the side of my bed, soaking up as many opportunities to learn new talents and skills before my free time disappears. Oh yeah also important- trying to snag a good guy who will be my best friend in this life adventure.

So thank you to those who are mentioned above. And so many who should be mentioned who aren't. There have been countless prayers offered by my family, earthly angel friends and roommates, amazing leaders and mentors I have been so blessed with throughout the way. God never gave up on me although at times I had given up on myself. I don’t think I have ever felt so grateful for my trials and where they have taken me. Although chasing this dream has not been the path of least resistance, it never is. Cheers to Boston 2016 and the new adventures ahead!

Doctorin' since 1993