My Past
My father has countless scars. In 1990, he fell off a 52-foot building. After recovering, he went back to work, and an industrial gate fell on him. He is now disabled, suffering through the pain from the multiple surgeries he underwent just to be able to walk.
I am so much like my dad, in ways beyond the fact that we share the same name. We’re both determined, strong-willed, and caring. We both feel the need to be strong for others around us. And we both have scars.
In the summer of 2015, I was diagnosed with idiopathic scoliosis. After a year of watching my scoliosis worsen, it was time to consider surgery. Without that six hour surgery and week in the hospital, I would be on oxygen by the time I was 18. Talk of surgery made everyone anxious. I didn’t like being the cause of my family’s uneasiness.
So, I decided I was the one who had to be strong. I had to be optimistic to give others the hope that everything would be okay. I wouldn’t complain or show my pain. July 11 marks the anniversary of spine surgery, the day I got my own scars. Surgeons fused my spine to two 15-inch metal rods, complete with screws and cadaver material. For five days, doctors came in and out of my room as I went in and out of consciousness.
That bed would not confine me any longer than required by doctor’s orders. I would overcome anything life threw at me.
Recovery time would be four to six weeks at home and six months of following strict limitations. That couldn’t be right! I had to start my high school freshman year on time.
I had heard about my dad’s brutal recovery. The doctors told him he could not go back to work, which caused anxiety and insomnia. During my recovery, I suffered the mental strain of freshman year at an advanced academy, which morphed into many sleepless nights for me. I told myself I had to power through so I could get better. Just because I’m named after my dad doesn’t mean we share the same fate: I wanted to prove to him that my future had not dimmed.
Months later, my scar healed nicely and was not sensitive to the touch. My rods strengthened my spine and allowed me to live a normal life. I learned the hard way that what doesn’t kill you actually makes you stronger.
I will use my refined “suit of armor” to help those with physical disabilities. And the best way I can support others is to utilize my talents in the orthotics and prosthetics field, to be an advocate for those who literally can’t stand up for themselves. There is so much evil in the world that some people give up hope. I know how to inspire and deliver it. I want to make a difference in the world and solve patients' problems while giving them hope.
But I need to take care of myself and overcome the obstacles in my own life if I want to be able to truly help others who are unable to do the same. Surgery at a young age saved me the trouble from having to learn this later on.
Everybody has their battle scars. The dark line down my spine symbolizes my determination and ambition to overcome those things, past, present, and future, that seemed impossible. I am driven by the need to fight for others; I hope to continue to offer up my pain and suffering for the good of others, continuously pushing myself to the limit so that I can help people do the same.
My Passion
I am very grateful for the faculty and staff in the Biological Engineering (BE) department. They continuously strive to provide the resources and connections necessary to their students’ success.
One professor recognized my interest in orthotics and prosthetics (O&P) and connected me with a nearby O&P clinic. I began shadowing in February 2022; on my third trip, the clinicians let me grind down some old sockets. My time as a volunteer ended that semester, as I was a hired intern for that company for the summer.
I gained hands-on knowledge of how to treat amputees and how to fabricate limbs. I learned how to modify molds, pull test sockets, write life care plans, and construct different types of prostheses. My mentors showed me that being an engineer in the medical industry isn’t just about numbers and data. It takes a personal touch to truly get through to patients. Many times, we found ourselves encouraging patients to not give up. Many feel their life is over or won’t be the same. Sometimes, they need a friend, someone to lend a hand (or a leg), to support them mentally as well as physically.
The clinicians taught me that prestige and titles aren’t everything. I was humbled by their going above and beyond for their patients because they truly cared. Sometimes, they’d go to their physical therapy or doctors’ appointments with them as their advocate. They would treat them at their homes if a patient had no transportation. These are actions not usually seen by highly-educated professionals.
Patients don’t care about the engineering of their prosthesis; they care that someone else cares about them and wants them to succeed. Based on my own experiences, I know how others’ support has directly impacted my achievements. I want to give that power to these patients.
My Future
I know the power of research, as I have conducted many projects throughout my time at LSU. Research has the potential to change the way people live their lives.
During my Master's program, I hope to delve into topics I am passionate about: orthopedics, rehabilitation, and biomechanics. They will help me become the engineer I want to be and achieve my goals: making people’s lives easier and giving them the opportunity to live their lives to the fullest.
My passion fuels my drive to find answers to a better future. My dad’s injuries left him with constant, tremendous pain in his back, his shoulders, his legs, and most of all, his feet. I want to pour my energy into fabricating a device that would enable him to walk without pain. If there’s a way, I want to find it.
Advances in the scientific realm and my professional relationships will be the foundation of my future. Thinking about all the possibilities from all different parts of the world excite me. But I’d like to make a major impact in my own community. The wholeness in my life would come from seeing those around me living pain-free. Managing pain and aiming for a better quality of life is one thing, but patients require something much more valuable - hope. I will work hard and offer up my own hardships for others, pushing myself so that I can help those struggling with life’s setbacks do the same. Sometimes, all patients need is to know that society hasn’t given up on them. Hope makes the difference.
Even if I cannot reach my goals, should something happen to me, I will pour everything that’s left of me into helping those around me and contributing to the field of biomechanics. I hope to engineer solutions for rehabilitation, internal muscle force analysis, and prosthetic and orthotic development, seeing where I can innovate. It is my life’s goal to be happy, healthy, and most of all, helpful.