I grew up in a small town bordering Kentucky, West Portsmouth, Ohio. From an early age, I knew I wanted to improve the world. How? No clue, so I assumed the role of the high school student and took life one day at time.
My first day in goal freshman year
My high school life was pretty busy. Starting varsity soccer my freshman year, and taking the tennis court as our number one singles player, I never had free time. I would run to a tennis lesson, return home to study for my AP government quiz, pass out, and repeat with some variation every day. I put more miles on my 1992 old red Chevrolet Blazer then I probably should have. Penance was paid in the vehicle though, the heater didn't work.
My tennis team doing what we did best, goofing off after a big win
Between college applications, interviews, and trying to decide where to direct my life, my last year of school was the busiest yet, full of highs and lows.
One of the lowest points, finishing the soccer season without a win. Our school had never been known for its’ soccer prowess, but my friends and I had been determined to change our identity since we were little. We would always stay after itty bitty ball practice, in our black Adidas cleats, planning our rise to state fame. The fame never materialized. When the last shrill whistle blew, we walked off the pitch, came together, and cried. Our hearts broken.
Luckily the lows were limited, and highs abundant. I was asked by one of my closest friends to be her homecoming escort. Although I wasn’t the one planting the smooch on her at halftime, the honor belonged to my buddy Andy, I got to ride in a sweet car and look great for photos. More importantly, I helped make sure my friend stayed upright in her extravagant dress, providing her a night I’m sure she has never forgotten.
I loved the tux she picked out! I wish I could have kept it.
To cap the year off, I finished my class as the head honcho. I soon discovered this was both an honor and a curse. I had to make a speech. I’ve never been one to have stage fright, but my valedictorian address will one day show up on Steem in a montage of The Worst Speeches Ever. For those who are curious, some of the highlights include stating I'm going to OSU for law school, and politically stumping for President in 30 years. My audience laughed, but I was being serious.
The eyes of a future President
With graduation out of the way, it was time to make the journey up route 23 North to Columbus, Ohio.
Just kidding! The journey north never materialized the year after graduation. Instead, I enrolled at Shawnee State University, 5 minutes from home, and helped care for my ailing Grandma Cuz.
Now my Grandma Cuz was one of the most amazing people I have ever had the opportunity to learn from. She raised my mom and her two brothers by herself after my Grandpa left. She spent 36 years as a librarian and teachers aide. When I was in elementary school, she picked me up every morning for an Arby's french toast breakfast in her 1990's light blue Dodge Dynasty with Zeke Mullins on the gospel radio station. At the time I didn't appreciate what she was doing for me, but now I often find myself wishing for just one more ride with her and Zeke.
Granny Cuz presenting me with one of my scholarships. The man providing the award was a big fan of her because of how great she was with his kids.
The picture above was the start of my Grandma's steep decline. Since she had retired she had been slowing down, her renal labs showing an ever increasing creatinine, x-ray's showing an enlarging heart, and her diabetes rampantly running out of control like a train without a conductor. It wasn't long after graduation that she started living in the 1970s again. Alzheimer's is a fascinating, but terrible disease.
Her condition made activities of daily living or ADLs nearly impossible for her. Her dutiful daughter and I drove the mile up the road to her house nearly every day bringing food, insulin, and anything she could need. When she had doctors appointments we would load her into "The Blazer", and off we would go. Eventually, her functioning declined to the point we were nearing death door ourselves attempting to care for her needs. We couldn't go on any longer. It was time to let the professionals handle her care. We found her a nice "home," with nurses who actually cared about their job.
Luckily she only had to spend about a month in the nursing home before her conditions won the war and her body gave up. She had been sent to the hospital because her renal numbers were flying higher and higher, indicating full blown kidney failure. We asked the hospital to run dialysis one last time, and they complied. Once returned to the ward, she had a moment of clarity we had not seen in many months. She looked at us all, knew our names, and said no more. She never received another round of treatment, and instead, was moved to the Hospice center.
The night she died, only a few days later, I wasn't present. My girlfriend at the time had accompanied me to Hospice to comfort my family and I in our time of need. It was nearly three in the morning, and I was told to take her home, and go to bed myself. I fell asleep around 4, and she took her last breath around 6. I deeply regret not being there because I never really got to say goodbye. Regardless of how I felt, her fight was done, the battle ceased. She was a deeply Baptist religious woman, the kind that goes to church Tuesday, Thursday, and twice on Sunday. I hope she is wearing a crown in the new kingdom of Jerusalem smiling down on me. For those of us left on our rock called Earth, her passing, in a way, was a gift. We no longer worried if this would be the day. It was over, and although we were all sad, we could rest.
The day of her funeral the hearse drove past the school she taught at. In tribute to her, the children and facility lined up outside as we went by. I remember all the days my Grandma complained about the school not caring about her. How she was just a cog in the machine they were always trying to replace. Honestly, if she saw what they did, she probably would have had a heart attack and died. She may not have realized how much of a difference she made to so many young lives, but I know, and I thank her for it every day. We laid her to rest beside her parents, and since that day 6 years ago, I have yet to return to her grave.
With my Grandma no longer needing care, it was time for me to return to my life plan. Taking care of my Grandma and watching her decline had opened my eyes to the world of medicine. Although, I still wanted to be President, I knew my heart was set on walking the wards in the time between.
I re-applied to Ohio State, this time majoring in Biochemistry and Biology. Moving to a big city was a culture shock, but I had classes scheduled and a two bedroom apartment. School allowed a routine to develop. I spent much time studying, working in a lab, and playing racquetball. I also found a love of Country Line Dancing, and spent many amazing nights at Nyoh's Bar and Grill.
The racquetball team
I actually met my fiance at Nyoh's. Long story short, every night the bar was open they had line dancing except Wednesday which was slated for swing dancing. Now being the country boy who grew up down a 'holler' I thought this must be country western partner dancing so I showed up in boots and jeans, Bud Light in hand. Out of place doesn't even begin to describe how I felt that night. However, I said to myself, "what the heck" and I gave it a shot. My fiance now laughs and says she never thought she would find her country boy while doing the Lindy Hop.
My fiance, then girlfriend, and I at the Ohio State football game. It was cold!
The next couple of years were even better than the first. Having met the love of my life, I was free to pursue other interest more intently. Enter my mentor.
I was taking a class through the biochemistry department where all of the research projects were submitted, and then we could apply to work in the lab of our choosing. If accepted we received our own project. I applied to three labs, and received my first choice, a post performing x-ray crystallography. For those of you unfamiliar, x-ray crystallography involves growing crystals and then shooting them with x-rays. Cool right? Skipping a bunch of nerdy science, after we shoot the crystals we then get the three dimensional structure of whatever the crystal is made of.
One of my protein structures. I solved it days before I moved for medical school.
Anyway, during my time in the lab, my mentor taught me so much about the hard work and dedication needed to succeed in the field of science. He would work late, finish our work if we had class and couldn't, and never allowed the lab to run low on resources. He is one of the greatest scientist of the modern day, and one day, he will have a Noble Prize. He really wanted me to go into his line of work and pursue a Ph.D. and I almost did, but my time spent with my Grandma had already directed me to medical school.
My lab mates and I demonstrating the handshake model of cadherin based adhesion at the Denman poster competition. I placed with my poster.
Do you know what they call the person who finishes dead last in their medical school class? They call them Doctor.
The white coat ceremony. Accompanied by peers from my hometown.
Medical school has been the most arduous schooling of my life. If I thought the all nighters were long in undergrad, Lord I had been mistaken. There is nothing quite like getting a 'C' on your first exam or looking at a blood pressure cuff like it's some weird taboo object. This while your classmates destroy the material like a tornado ripping through a town. You feel like you are the poor shopkeeper, tucked away in the basement, praying the tornado doesn't take you away. Well then again, some days, you wish it would fling you thousands of feet high and bring all the anguish to an end.
Currently, I am in my third year of training. Every year has become better and better. Every year is harder, but one's ability to cope with the stress drastically improves. When you are on the wards, making rounds, the patients make it all worth the struggle, and when you leave for the night you wonder if you have done enough. You think, what if that person was my mom, dad, or my Grandmal Cuz.
As I sit here and tell my story, on a break before my night shift starts, I think back to my Grandma and how she has shaped my life. She was a poor woman who dedicated herself to being a teachers aide. She raised three kids on her own. I know I would not be were I am today if it was not for my Grandma: I hope I have made her proud.
Please post any comments, questions, or any other details you would be interested reading about in future posts.
Me today
