Bryanna: Why I Want to Be a Doctor

Bryanna had to write an essay for school. She is a Junior at Mountain View High School in Mesa, Arizona. She has a 4.4 GPA and ranks in her class. She is incredibly intelligent, athletic, beautiful, and kind.

Yes, I am her mother, so I know I am completely biased. But she is beautiful both inside and out. My little girl loves her whole family. But she is especially close to her father - literally Daddy's Little Girl. And her father has terminal lymphoma. With all her talent and abilities, she could choose to be anything she wanted to be. Bryanna wants to be a doctor. Let her tell you why, in her own words, taken from the essay she wrote last night:

     I want to be a doctor. I know that being a doctor is considered a dream job by many people, but my reasons for this desire are far different from most. Often, people want to be doctors because they want the ‘big bank’ and they assume the life of a doctor is the same as what they see on Grey’s Anatomy; but I’m different. While many have seen the amazing effects of medicine from a distance, my life is full of examples. My dad is riddled with cancer.

     When I was twelve, young, bright, and carefree, I received a call from my mom. She explained to me that Dad was very ill, in a critical situation in the hospital, and that the doctors have no idea what is wrong with him. Fortunately, he recovered from the scare because of medicine and the combined work of the doctors, but unfortunately, weeks later after critical analysis of his illness, the doctors diagnosed him with an extremely rare cancer: Angioimmunoblastic T-cell lymphoma. I know that’s a mouthful and most people think that all cancers are alike, but this cancer is so rare that the doctors in Arizona couldn’t diagnose him without sending his biopsy screens to high-tech research hospitals around the country. In ten years, only one hundred people were available with this specific cancer for a research study. And this means that there is no cure. Literally. No chemotherapy, no radiation, no magic wave of the wand. Nothing. The doctors told him that he was going to die in two years without a doubt. Of those one hundred people who had this cancer that I mentioned earlier, absolutely none lived longer than two years after diagnosis.

     I am now sixteen, four years later. My dad still watches my soccer games, still holds my hand, and still hugs me goodnight to this day. Maybe he can’t go running or even go on a rollercoaster, but he can love his family and support us. His cancer will never disappear and it will eventually kill him, but it is an absolute miracle that he survives two years later than his death sentence. He scares us sometimes; his immune system is virtually destroyed so the smallest flu or infection might have traumatic affects, but he always stays. Thanks to medicine.

     When I saw for myself that he was here to stay, I felt the most incredible and wonderful feeling I’ve ever experienced in my life. A warm calm enveloped my heart, and I cried tears of pure joy. I want everyone to feel that same feeling, that feeling of complete joy, innocent and overwhelming and pure and beautiful. And I have the power to make others feel this way if I become a doctor. So I’ve decided.

     Instead of being depressed over this terrible ordeal, I opened my eyes. I worry that at any moment his cancer could come back and this time stop his heart, but I realize that I am extremely lucky and that others have far, far worse troubles than I do. This experience gave me wonderful outcomes: a stronger family, an optimistic attitude, and a passion for medicine. Nothing will stop me from achieving my dream. And when my father eventually deceases, I will only work harder to save the patients’ lives and the emotions of their families. So, yes, I want to become a doctor, but not for the reasons of everyone else. Not for the money or the status or the pride, but for the emotion and the feeling and the joy. For love. For my dad.