In November of 2008, I was fortunate enough to go to the Dominican Republic over Thanksgiving Break to give to those in need. Let me just say that those kids touched my life in more ways than one.

It's truly amazing how much we take for granted. Education, shelter, clothes, 3 meals a day, jobs, etc.
The impact of driving to Barahona shocked me. People sit outside their homes and talk in the moonlight since electricity is minimal. Often, they would be sitting around a candle.

As the group and I took this four hour bus ride to Barahona, I looked up at the sky and saw beautiful stars. It looked like someone had taken a salt shaker and sprinkled the sky with these stars because they were everywhere. At that moment, I thanked God for my family and the people I was sharing the trip with. (Click on pictures below to make larger).

The village of Algodon



A house in Algodon


Algodon was the worst of the villages pictured above. One of the girls, Joanne, who was 18 would come to our casa everyday. She would cook for us and talk to us about her village--Alogodon. I was fortunate to get to know her more when I became ill on Thanksgiving day. Even though I didn't speak Spanish well, and she didn't speak English well, We would find other ways to communicate such as pointing and trying to figure out the translation. We would still just laugh at ourselves. It's amazing how much you can learn about a person in a few hours. She lived with a big family with many brothers and sisters like in a house pictured above. She had lively spirits and kept me laughing when I was feeling awful. This picture was taken the night I was feeling pretty sick..


Joanna and me


One moment I will never forget is driving up to Los Robles and meeting my host family for the first time.



Los Robles


The family that I met had 5 children. The father worked in the fields planting plantains while the mother was rarely home. She was a maid in Santo Domingo (4 hours away) and would come home once a month or every two weeks. The oldest child was 10 and the youngest child was 5. The 10 year old did all the cooking and cleaning for the family. What a huge responsibility to take on at such a young age. I was able to witness this process the second day I was there. He would start a fire, and place the little food they had in the pot to cook.



Their kitchen


The 5 year old and I became close. Her name was Violet and she was very shy and quiet. She only told me her name the first day I met her. However, she would never let go of my hand. She had the most beautiful smile and loved looking at herself in the camera. If any other child tried to come up and grab my hand she would fight them off and claim "Mi Americana" --My American!



My violet holding my hand :)


When we had to leave I felt horrible for not being able to drop her off at her house. I had to leave her at the school and I had actually asked the translators if I could take her back to her house. To my surprise they said no. I said what do you mean? She's only five? They said the children find their way back home easily. Even 2 year olds are left to find their way back home. I felt like I was leaving my own child and prayed that she would make it back safely.

The next day we went to visit Los Robles Violet was not in the house when we arrived. I figured she was off playing with some friends. The little 10 year old boy was actually cooking for the family which was hard to watch. Some people helped him so he could play with the children later on instead of cooking. As we were watching, I looked down the hill and saw Violet running towards the house. I spotted her before she saw me-- but when she saw me..she had a HUGE smile on her face. It was a moment I will never forget. She started running up the hill in her bare feet but I told her to go around since I didn't want her to get cut from all the glass that was scattered across the hill.



The cutest thing.




Walking with Violet and her friend through Los Robles.


The hardest moment I had to face was leaving violet for the second day. I knew I wouldnt see her again. As I knelt down beside her to say goodbye and explain to her that I wouldnt see her again, tears rolled down my cheeks. Since she was 5, I didn't think she would understand. Of course more people would come through the village later on that week or month, but I hated leaving her.

My hopes for this trip was that I made an impact on someones life there in Barahona--the people there made an impact on me each day. I will close with a song (and pictures) that has touched my heart for years now. I first heard it when I was in 8th grade...but I think the message speaks for itself.

A world full of church members watch as the hours go by
Sands of time have gotten in their eyes
Blinded to the cries of a hurting world
They cannot see the pain in their lives
Keeping the truth all to themselves
Content as they can be

Theres a famine in the land
We've got a pocket full of seeds
Theres a famine in the land
Got a pocket full of seeds
Could you give the bread of life?
And the hope that Jesus brings

Living water flows through your heart
Could you quinch the thirst of a friend in need?
Theres a famine in the land you've got a pocket full of seeds.

Jesus said my "house is full, but my field is empty"
Where have we all been at work in town?
We've been sitting around the table
Feasting in the house of plenty
While the hungry world looks in from the outside
Keeping the truth all to themselves
Content as they can be

Theres a famine in the land
We've got a pocket full of seeds
Could you give the bread of life?
And the hope that Jesus brings

Living water flows through your heart
Could you quinch the thirst of a friend in need?
Theres a famine in the land you've got a pocket full of seeds.

Barahona


Saying goodbye

My first interview was September 14th, 2009 with Touro college, NY. I had one at 8:00am with the Long Island campus, and one at 1:00pm with the Manhattan campus. I remember it like yesterday. It was chilly in NY and not only were the VMA's going on but it was also fashion week. My father was in NY with me so I had the support I needed. The previous day I had a front row seat watching Jersey Boys on Broadway. It kept my mind off the interview.

I was sick to my stomach the morning of. The nerves were getting to me and I knew it. I didn't know if I would make the hour and half drive to long island without getting sick. My father tried to calm me down but it wasn't helping. As soon as we got there I ran to the bathroom and tried to calm myself down.

I was dressed in my navy blue skirt suit that I had fallen in love with 3 weeks prior in the Dillard's dressing room. My hair was slicked back in a pony tail, and I felt the cold pearls around my neck--the same pearls I walked with at undergrad graduation.

I took a breath and walked out of the bathroom and up the two flights of stairs to the main office of where I would be interviewing. I saw books everywhere, desks were scattered in the middle of the room and it looked like an absolute mess! "Sorry for the mess" I hear, "We are re-painting the walls." A sigh of relief, thank goodness this is not how it normally is. I was told to take a seat. I make sure to sit properly with correct posture and feet together. I wait another 15 minutes..while the ADCOMs review my application.

I go over the questions in my head while I wait. I didn't feel unprepared--I knew certain questions they would ask me. I had prepared myself for that. I was lucky to have some PA's as friends but I was also engrossed with Rodican's book of "Getting into The PA School of Your Choice." I also did a mock interview with my friends and family. I think this really helped me.

I heard my name called and I walk into a small room..a room meant to be the office break room. I was somewhat confused, but took my seat anyways and brushed the crumbs off the table. I sat at the head of the table while the two women sit on each side.

I felt confident in my answers. Elaborate enough, but short and sweet.

The last part was an essay, which I felt pretty confident about. Touro uses scenario types of situations for the essay so that was easy for me. I turn my essay in, shake their hands, and out I go to meet my father.

Relief hits me until I realize I have another interview at 1:00pm with the Manhattan campus. We race back to the city, just in time to grab some lunch and then head to the next campus. This campus is totally different, only a building with a old wooden desk that a security guard sits at. He checks my ID and tells me to proceed to the elevator. The elevator was old, green, and I was pretty sure I was going to die inside of it. It would shake and rumble and I figured if it was my time to go-- well then so be it.

I got lost inside the building. There were multiple hallways, and it didn't seem like any of the students I passed would lend a helping hand. I finally found where I needed to be and was told to wait in a hallway. I waited for almost 45 minutes. This made me nervous because I had a flight to catch to come back to Tampa. Tick tick tick.

Finally interview time comes. These ladies were a little more intimidating and would often try to catch me off guard to see how I dealt being under pressure. I didn't exactly realize this in the interview though and figured they just didn't really like me. Nevertheless, I was as confident as I could be even though I wanted to cry inside. Questions were racing through my head at 100 miles per hour. Did I answer that ok? What are they even trying to ask? Do I look ok? I hope I have nothing in my teeth?

Two weeks later..acceptances to both.

I applied to school back in late June of 2009. Not only did it take months to apply, but countless hours of research and organization of where I wanted to go. The application itself was 15 pages long. I had to gather volunteer information, human contact experience, work experience, medical experience, extracurricular activities, and the list goes on. I also had to figure out who I would want to write my letters of recommendation (LOR). That really wasn't hard since I already had a mentor/professor from college that I knew for 4 years. I also knew I could get the doctors I currently work for the write one each--so that made my 3 LOR's.

As far as my personal statement (PS), that had been in the works for years. I knew sooner or later I would have to write something for PA school. I molded it into what it is today and really think it weighed heavy in my application.

Looking for schools wasn't easy. I would find a school or call them ask them questions only to go back to their website 2 weeks later. There are just so many schools out there and I realized I needed another form of organization--Thank you excel! I organized my excel chart by school, tuition cost, average GRE, when the semester started, length of semester, etc. This really helped me narrow my choices down to 10 schools. Of course I didn't do this for every PA school out there, but ones that I was interested in.

Example of my excel chart




The schools I applied to: Nova southeastern-Jacksonville, Fort Myers, and Orlando campuses, Salus University, Drexel University, NYIT, St Johns University, Touro College (all campuses), and my current school.

Patience is a virtue while waiting for letters to come in the mail. I obsessively checked my email and the mail box. Every day I would rush home from work to see if I got a letter in the mail. I think I probably ruined the lock on my mailbox because now the key doesn't want to come out sometimes.

I interviewed at 4 schools: Touro college: Bayshore campus, Manhattan campus, Nova jacksonville, and my current school.

I will talk more about my interviews later. It wasn't until February that I knew which school I was attending. I couldn't be more pleased with the decision I made.

Many of you are probably wondering why I wanted to be a Physician Assistant. Here is part of my story. I will not post all of it..but it will give you a vague idea.


When I was younger, I would often play with the kids in the neighborhood with my Hello Kitty purse around my neck. In it, I carried miscellaneous themed band-aids and a bottle of Bactine to treat anyone who fell down and was hurt. As I grew older, I would often follow my father who is an orthopedic surgeon on his rounds. I remember the pure excitement I felt when I shadowed my father for the first time in surgery. I quickly realized I not only felt very comfortable in the medical environment, but had also found the missing piece of my life. Shadowing my father was good, and quite rewarding, but not nearly enough.

My motivation for becoming a physician assistant (PA) has solidified over the years of clinical experience, and my recent trip to the Dominican Republic. I have a passion for serving those in need of help and alleviating the suffering that people endure. I want to be a PA because this profession would encompass all of the things I desire in a career. I enjoy helping people and this profession will allow me to help not only individuals but also make a difference in the community.