Military Medicine & Me

I love learning from stories of our nation's history, I also love to dress up; so when the opportunity for me to do something that includes both of these hobbies I sign up for it faster than a a prairie fire with a tailwind! One such opportunity was the 'Night in the Museum' event at the local museum. Like the movies with the same names, local historians, actors and history fanatics (such as myself) brought the museum's exhibits to life through research and role playing. For the event my sister and I were assigned to the military exhibit where I played the role of a World War II Army Nurse (1LT) and my sister played the role of a Sergeant in the USMC Reserves during the Korean War. Both of our uniforms were authentic and had been donated to the museum by the women who wore them while they served their country - it truly was an honor not only getting a glimpse into their lives but also getting to represent them!

 Though I am not a full-time, serious reenactor I have participated in several events for the last couple of years, taking on the roles such as a Civil War Infantry and Artillery Solider, Southern Bell or prairie women; but this role play character was uniquely special to me because of a recent decision I've made with my career. After lots of worrying and tons of prayer I have decided to apply for a direct commission into the military's Medical Specialist Corps as a 1st Lieutenant (1LT) and Physical Therapist to our nation's heroes. I know that this will surprise many of my family and friends, and it is completely okay if you disagree with it (my mom certainly did for a long time), I gawked at the idea myself when it was first presented to me; but I now believe that if God is not calling me to be part of the military, He is calling me to risk everything and apply to the program. I hope that I haven't surprised you too much (my family now chuckles at this idea as they can easily imagine me living up to the role of no-nonsense taking, somewhat bossy officer) and I would love to cover any questions or advice you have for me about the military and the program.

What got me thinking about applying to be a military physical therapist?

One of my classmates told me about the program and I told them that though it sounded like an amazing program I would never apply to it. (Isn't it funny how what we thought we would never do ends up being the very thing we do?) I knew that I wanted to work my way to earning a Doctorate of Physical Therapy, but I did not know what school I was going to apply to to reach this goal. I was still worrying and praying over this as well as how I was going to pay for it (becoming a doctor is expensive!) when I got a job with a local non-profit Health Education organization. During one of our spring cleaning days my supervisor wore a Army shirt and I casually ask if she had served in the military. Though the shirt was one of her husband's, this conversation ended with her giving me several contact numbers and emails of her friends that were military dietitians and physical therapist. To add onto this I had the unique opportunity to observe physical therapist at the nation's most renowned military physical therapy hospital - with lodging with a family who worked on the base so I had access through security and private behind the scenes tours. I then got a job at a outpatient physical therapy and sports medicine clinic (two categories that military therapist focus on) and nearly all of the therapist I now work with say that the military therapy program is full of opportunities they wished they had. I'm not sure if these were 'signs from God' but with all of these things falling into my lap it was hard ignore the possibility that this may be the type of career I need to pursue.

Exactly how does a direct commission into the military work?

Direct commissions in the military are officer positions given to a person with two main qualifications: a Bachelor's or higher degree and expertise and experience in the position that the officer is needed. Most of these types of officers are medical, but there are also direct commissions for legal or chaplaincy officers. The easiest way to explain the difference between a direct commission and a commission is I don't have to go through ROTC (though I do still need to master the physical training requirements of situps, pushups and two mile run). Now in the case of physical therapist in the military, they are given a direct commission as a 2LT while they are completing their graduate studies a under military faculty and a promotion to 1LT once they complete the work to earn the doctorate degree. One super nice aspect of this program is that tuition is paid for - granted 7 years of your life is committed to the military, three years of school and four years of service.

What could my responsibilities be?

Physical therapist have several different roles in the military, depending on the setting that they are assigned to. Therapist at base hospitals work as trainers helping with physical training to prevent injuries, injury diagnoser determining if a training injury is critical enough to be sent to a surgeon or can be fixed with a change of profile (the military physical task/training requirements of each serviceman) and strengthening exercises, and follow up motivator helping servicemen and women regain strength after a injury or surgery. A deployed therapist functions similarly, though the need to keep servicemen and women functioning at their best is higher, thus a therapist will function more like a athletic trainer focusing on injury prevention while still completing the mission. A therapist in a deployed setting is in charge of this type of care for 1,000-3,000 servicemen and women; which is nearly overwhelming to me, but the prospect of getting provided comfort and care to these heroes and their families back home overrides that fear.

Am I scared for the future?

Of course! The idea of being deployed if still quite new to me, and if I were selected for this position I would not only be responsible for thousands of servicemen and women but I would also be traveling to places that American presence is not always welcomed. As a medical officer I would be working in a protected base - but if things get worse in the middle east there is a possibility of increasing the need for medical officers traveling to the servicemen and women instead of the other way around. I can't imagine traveling in an area where people don't just dislike you but want to kill you; but I know if God is calling me to this He will protect me.

 The possibilities of this career are both exciting and scary. Right now all I can guarantee about my career path is that I'm not in the program (yet) but I'm running full steam ahead to what is out of my comfort zone and will be extremely difficult (and is the perfect circumstances for God to do something amazing with my life!) and the only thing that will stop me is if God chooses to close this door. Your questions and advice are welcomed and prayers are greatly appreciated.

What I Wish I Knew When I was a College Freshman

Dear Young and Excited College Freshman:

First I'd like to congratulate you on starting your newest adventure! As I prepare to start off my final semester before graduating with my bachelor's degree, I remember how nervous I was when I started this journey. Like many other college seniors there are things I would have done differently and things I wished I knew earlier. I cannot guarantee that you won't have to learn anything the hard way, but I can share with you the advice I have learn and found most helpful over the last four years.

Take your notes in pen.
Yes, even your math classes! This forces you to begin studying earlier as you will need to transcribe your scribbles into neater (and in my case, more readable) notes while the lecture is still fresh in your memory. Ink also does not smear or fade like pencil marks do, which help in the classes you need to take when you're an upperclassman, as your notes and hints will still be legible. 

Do not fall for the myth that college is a time to discover who you are.
Nearly everyone says that college is the time for you to explore, find out who you are and what kinds of things you like, but this simply is not true! Yes, while college is a great time to discover how you function without your parents, what you need to do to create accountability and responsibility and what kind of support you need to make tough decisions; it is not the time to try every and all things that are available to you. You had all four years of high school to find the hobbies and classes that fit you best, and now your college years are the time to get better at them. Don't get sucked into the whirlwind of trying several campus organizations and unique classes and fall behind students who are committing their time to honing in on specific skills. When students who spent their college years exploring different subjects leave school, though their experience makes them look like a well rounded person, employers see a a 'soundboard' of skills that is so spread out that it is unable to focus and amplify the job they are looking to complete. Come to college with a mind set of already knowing who you are and making that person better.

Don't study what you love, study what you find fascinating.
When choosing a major, don't base your decision on the school subject you love. There will be many lectures, assignments and test that will prove that it doesn't love you back, and this quickly drains your motivation. Instead, chose to study and work with subjects that you are fascinated by. Curiosity and desire to know the answer will help you make it through the 'up-till-2-AM' projects. Because you earnestly wish to improve your understanding of that subject, you will greatly add to your career after college as you will want to seek ways to do your job better out of pure inquisitiveness. This may not be as easy as knowing that you are intrigued by the phenomenon of physics or the puzzle of the psychology. In my case, for example, I am fascinated by our ability to heal and improve, but I hate all of the controversies that at linked with science and its research. I chose to study biology because I wanted the privilege of seeing people heal and my excitement in understanding how a biological system functions helped pushed me through all of the difficult concepts and assignments. 

This is your college experience and not a carbon copy.
Looking back this was my biggest misconception about college. Several times I harshly compared how my schedule and classes were going to how my family, friends and even make believe student's schedule and classes went. I would push myself to work long hours and sleep very little, because that is what normal college students did, right? I also spent way too much time judging my abilities and intelligence by looking at how other students where doing. For one of my classes, my lab partner and I did the same amount of studying and yet she was receiving As while I was barely scoring enough to get Bs. I became extremely frustrated and felt like a failure, I was doing everything the same as my lab partner and could not produce the same results. This went on until near the end of the semester I found out that she had already taken the course and was more familiar with the information than I was from the very beginning of the class. Even if you take the same class from the same teacher and study in the same way as someone else, you can never produce the exact results, so don't waste your time trying. Don't compare your college experience to how your sister's or best friend's college experience went, go and make your own unique experience!

A College Degree is still just a piece of paper. 
Despite the hype that it is now the ticket to landing a job or becoming a better person, a college degree is still just a flimsy piece of very expensive paper. It is the knowledge and wisdom that you collect and create while at college to backup that degree that truly make the difference.  Don't settle to simply pass the required classes to earn a degree, become part of the academic community, after all where else are you going to walk down a hall and run into PhDs and specialized experts? Take the time to learn and grow outside of your classes and seek out opportunities that will help you develop better leadership skills and accept offers to work in diverse groups. Support your degree with with so many projects and experiences that it won't ever fall flat.

I wish you the very best as you grow and learn on your journey.

Still

I have heard it said that crying helps to cleanse one's mind and while I am not really sure if that worked for me I have had some (more) time and tears to sort through my feelings. Grief is a very funny thing, it seems to often come out of no where and multiply. Sometimes I feel like with all of the things going on in my life to distract me and the amount of time that has passed since my father died, that I would be able to adapt, that the pain would lessen, and I wouldn't cry as much. Thinking logically, I am rather shocked at how much I cried after J. died, after all, unlike many of my friends, I had had the opportunity to say good-bye to her. I hugged her tightly and said good-bye knowing that there may be a chance that we wouldn't see each other again this side of heaven; and yet, when I heard the news of her accident and passing, I entered a depressed state, full of nights of tears and nearly late assignments as my study habits slowed to a crawl. In my shock I ranted and raved at all of you about how much I did not like change . Unfortunately, feelings like this are doomed, as everything is constantly changing, the world around us, those I love and even myself. And while I was pouting over my inability to avoid this painful change, mentally demanding of God to tell me one thing in my life that did not- does not - change, a simple phase came to mind,

"Jesus no cambia."

I learned this sentence during my time in Panama, and besides Ayudarme! (help me!) and ¿Cómo estás?(How are you?) it is the only Spanish I have managed to keep in my memory.


"Jesus no cambia."

"Jesus does not change"

The children would follow us through the village yelling this at the top of their voices with passion and excitement. And who wouldn't? As the memory of children rejoicing, I wanted to run through the streets myself shouting 'I am loved by a God who does not change!' While I go through the ups and downs of life, He is still with me, still knowing me, still loving me. 

 

Unlike my restless heart and nature, God is Still - calm, steady, resistant to change. He is good, always has been and always will be. He is the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like the shifting shadows (James 1:17). And I am okay because He is still God.

And it's okay for me to change; for me to grieve. For me to mourn for those who I have loved.

 Last week my family sent several balloons to heaven in celebration of what would have been my father's birthday. (And yes, I realize that those balloons will probably send a couple of sea turtles to heaven as well.)

It has been 1,320 days since my father died, and I still miss him. I still cry.

But God is still good.

Change

This morning I found out that a dear childhood friend of mine suddenly passed away and it hurt, really hurt. All of the biology knowledge I have stored up in my brain is telling me that death is just a part of life and that life is not be possible with out it; but in my heart I know that death is the absence of life - there is no death without life first. Childishly, I wish I could assist death in choosing who it took, and argue that J., who was so full of life and passion, should have been on the bottom of the list. To say that death quite simply cannot rob the world of the treasure we all found in her. I want to stomp my feet and throw myself in the middle of the floor yelling and screaming that things shouldn't change.

I don't like change.

While it is exciting to watch my friends grow up and strive for amazing careers as doctors, teachers, counselors, firefighters, nurses, missionaries, pilots and soldiers, I constantly think about the days when we were little and played basketball in the park, had late summer night bonfires and randomly danced and sung together. Sometimes I just don't want to grow up, but return to the happy days of my childhood, back to the days when I didn't worry so much about my future and following the standard of others, but lived with a pure and simple joy. Spending my childhood with J. I never would have guessed that the power to continue spreading joy throughout the world would be given to me instead of her. I always thought that J. was going to live an extraordinary life, and  I would excitedly say 'I know that girl!'. J. did live and extraordinary life, and blessed and touched so many people, but here am I, dealing with change and only getting to say that 'I knew that girl'.

Well, I guess I can say more than that. I can say that I knew that girl and was extremely blessed by her kindness and caring. I can say that I knew that girl and was motivated by her passion and love for Jesus and supported by her friendship. And because I knew that girl, I am forever...changed.

Morning Weights and Prayers

Yikes! It's been a whole month since my last post! Midterms are finally over, and even though I've been really busy this last month, I have really missed connecting with you through this blog; so let me catch you up on a little bit of my life at the moment. Last week my team started a new block of exercises, and I am seriously beginning to doubt my ability to move.

Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning {bright and early} you'll find me in the Student-Athlete Strength Center (our fancy name for the weight room).

5:30 am rolls around and I'm up to go to practice and then to classes, but inwardly saying 'bother everything' - to everything. I'm pretty sure that you have all experienced this feeling at one point in your lives; that morning when you just want to ignore your alarm and do your best not to move so your body doesn't have the opportunity to remind you that you have 650 muscles and you are indeed mortal. If I'm honest, I brought this pain on myself. I have not lifted weights of any kind for several years, and now to keep up with my teammates, I am forcing my body to call upon strength that simply is not there. (I am getting stronger - very slowly - and who knows? I may even get my abs back.)

All of this whining to you is not for no reason, for morning weights and the pain and soreness that comes with it have reminded me of another area of my life that has the same results and consequences as strengthening and conditioning my muscles - prayers and my time with God. Talking with my Lord, who made me, knows me and adores me, sounds like a relatively easy thing to do - but for at least right now, it is not. When overwhelmed with midterms and the stress of getting everything I need to do done, my time and talks with God quickly crumbled.

Peter tells us in that we need to be clear minded and self-controlled so that we can pray (1 Peter 4:7). Praying is not easy, and just like with weight training, it needs to be slowly built up and maintained or else it becomes difficult to do and easy to skip. We need to purposefully and daily take time to spend with our Lord. And though this is difficult to do sometimes, what we are straining towards it so much better than a set of six pack abs; it is a strong and enduring relationship with our great and glorious God!

Doing Both

Where did the wonder of the first day of school go? The happy memories of being the excited kindergartener off to learn about the great big world? As you've probably guessed, today was my first day of classes for my almost senior year of college (I have an extra semester after this year to earn my bachelor's of science in biology degree), and well, I wasn't really all that excited about it. I love learning, but all the same, I often find that the learning environment can be very taxing. There is one subject in particular that I find extremely challenging - biology.

Wait! Pause! Didn't I just say that I was majoring in biology? Yes, I am indeed a biology student, however if you had asked me back in high school what I was planning on studying in college, I would have told you that it would be any subject except biology; that biology would be my absolute last choice as a major. This was because of two reasons: First, I have a strong dislike creepy-crawly gross things that eat on me or use me as some kind of host, and these things are part of discussion when studying life and how organisms interact. Secondly, I didn't want to get involved in the mess of the war between my faith and science (especially in biology). When one studies creation within an environment that is not allowed to include the Creator, they are placed into a complex conflict; how is one to respect their professors and yet continue to hold fast to their beliefs? I have watched other biology students undertake the same struggle, and often sound harsh and judgmental when pointing out the contradictions between beliefs with statements like 'I can't believe anyone would believe in evolution, it's just stupid'. Aren't we suppose to represent who we worship by displaying unexplainable love? (John 13:35) Despite this knowledge, my feathers would still get ruffled when I had to sit through a lecture listening to theories and happenings that don't have enough evidence to accepted as fact. When this happens, I have learned to watch and listen to how the more experienced biology students answer this predicament, because believe it or not, there is a peaceful approach to argument. The best way for me to explain this is to recount the first time I learned how respectfully to defend my belief.

About a year ago I was taking a marine biology and conservation class and we were going over the ocean floor and how the unique geological features came to exist. The professor was explaining that through a very slow process that took millions of years, the ocean floor grew bigger and wider as lava was push up through crevices, at the rate of 1 to 2 inches a year. At this point I was silently arguing with them, because I believe that several geological features were formed by Noah's flood. While I was busy sending rather unkind thoughts towards my professor, a student behind me raised their hand and asked if it were possible that the rate of growth was quicker at any point in history. To which the professor replied that it was indeed possible, and then moved on to the next point in the lecture. With one simple sentence, that student was able to defend what they believed in and respect the authority of the professor. I hope that I will be able to response in a Christ like manor next time I am tempted argue against what I am being taught.
 
On a slightly lighter note, one fun way I have found to encourage myself while working on my science courses is to take my notes in notebooks that look like this:

I am still working on learning how to study in a way that brings glory to God, and if you have any advice or past experience in similar situations, please comment and share your story!

My Anatomy Adventure

Hey All! I hope that your summer has been amazing! I know that some of my friends have returned to the international mission field (Africa, Mexico, Romania, Panama) while others have followed God's call to stay and work diligently at what He brings to us at home. My own summer days have thus far been spent in a way that I would have never foreseen; hours and hours in a lab studying a human body. My school offers the unique opportunity of undergrad cadaver privileges, and as part of my anatomy class, I got to learn about the body by seeing, touching and taking apart a real body. If you would have told me a year ago that I would be working with a cadaver, I would have been thoroughly grossed out. Thank goodness the Lord open my eyes and gave me a new attitude about studying the cadaver, because I don't think I could have survived the class if He didn't. See, after about a week into the class, I realized that I have the amazing opportunity to explore God's favorite creation; His masterpiece, His very likeness and image (Ephesians 2:10, Genesis 1:26&27). God loves all of creation and His handiwork is seen in everything He has made, but humans are special, set apart.

When God created the sky and sea, He saw that it was good.

When God created the plants, He saw that it was good.

When God created the stars, moon and the sun, He saw that it was good.

When God created the creatures that swim in the water and those that crawl across the land, He saw that it was good.

When God created the wild animals and livestock, He saw that it was good.

But when God created man, He blessed them.

I had the chance to explore and learn about God's most prized possession, and I was going to take this opportunity to the fullest and study the cadaver to the very best of my ability. I would often stay in the lab until midnight, labeling the different organs, muscles and structures and following the connections between their functions and systems. I ended up earning a lab grade of 99%, but grades can only prove a fraction of what the student learned. I learned so much more than where to locate (and spell) the thoracolumbar fascia, I now better understand how intricate, fascinating, complicated - wonderfully made (Ps 139:13) - the human body is.

Swimming for the Bears

It has been a awhile since my last post, and I hope no one thought I died, though, I thought I was going to die a couple of weeks ago - I started practicing with the Missouri State Swim Team. Why did I connect swimming with my sudden demise? That's a tough question to answer. I haven't always viewed the sport this way. I've been a competitive swimmer for most of my life; from age nine to eighteen, I developed a strong devotion to the sport, constantly striving to achieve better results at almost any cost. I had gotten to the point where I was doing double practices plus weights and dryland workouts. I also had three different binders recording my times, goals and plans on how to achieve those goals. I lived to swim.

My hard work paid off, for I was competing at the international level.  With the way my training was going, I figured that by the time of the next Olympic Trials, I would have a qualifying time in at least one event. But God had other plans for me. When my father was diagnosed with SNUC (sinonasal undifferentiated carcinoma - a super rare brain cancer), I had to majorly cut back on my training to be home to help care for the family. Our battle with cancer lasted two years, and when it was finally over, my swimming career was greatly diminished. I was no longer able to train, and had lost the drive to do anything, least of all swim. Despite my rotten attitude at the time, I was blessed to get a job coaching the sport, guiding younger athletes through the steps to achieving the success I once enjoyed. It was because this job that I began to miss participating in the sport. As I prepared to transfer to Missouri State University after earning my Associate of Art degree, my sister's swim coach suggested that I call the coach of Missouri State's team and ask for a walk-on spot. I thought that he was crazy, but it didn't hurt to ask. So I asked, and got the spot. To say I was shocked would be a understatement. I was excited to swim again, but I also dreaded the thought of training with Division I athletes while I am so out of shape. Going from swimming with the pack to trailing far behind is not a fun thing, and my pride started to wear into my way of thinking. Thoughts such as 'If they only knew how good I was.' pop into my head and make practice a miserable event. Everyday I have to ask God to take away my selfish feelings and replace them with ones of thanksgiving; so I guess, in a way swimming does lead to death -  the death of my pride. 

Every practice I must let my pride die, because I only gain harm if I allow it to live. It is extremely hard to be thankful for a gift when you think that you deserve better, and being able to swim again is a gift that I didn't earn and need to be grateful for. I must realize that my talent in swimming does not come from my strength, and refocus the glory where glory it due - to God. Now I live for Him!

Goodbye?

Graduation is finally over! The stress of finals, finding and sending transcripts,and ensuring that every last cost is wrapped up is done. It is now time to pack up and move on. I have never thought of graduation as a time of goodbyes, but now I see that it is.With my graduation from the community college that I have been attending for the last two years, I am forced to leave multiple things; jobs, teachers, friends. The funny thing is that I never really said goodbye to anyone. There were plenty of "We have to keep in touch"es and "I better be hearing from you"es, I even talked about saying goodbye, but I never said it.The truth is, I have never been good at saying goodbye, most of the time I simply disappeared from my acquaintance's life. And now that it is time for me to go, I find saying goodbye to the school a very hard thing to do. I believe what makes it so hard is the amount of impact that everyone from the school has had on my life.

The first day I walked through the doors of the school, I was a broken girl. It had been five months since my dad lost his battle to SNUC (sinunasal unadifferentiated carcinoma) cancer, and all of my dreams and motivation had died with him. I had no desire to take on any challenges, after all, why should I work hard if my life is just going to end like my father's; tired, pained and unable to speak. My plan was to get in and out as quickly as I could, doing no more than what was required, however, I did not factor into my plans the help and encouragement I would receive from the faculty. Despite my self-pity and low self-esteem, my instructors were able to see my potential and coaxed out my best efforts. They encouraged me and pointed out that I possessed the abilities to succeeded in a broad range of subjects as far apart as theater, journalism, and mathematics. The lessons that I have learned from them have forever changed my life.

I am also indebted to my friends, though I am shocked to say that I have friends, they too have changed my life.Going from a city in California with a population of nearly 300,000 to a small Midwestern town was a huge culture shock for me. Everyone knew everyone else and all the things about their past and often their futures. And there I was, coming from a city with an extremely high crime rate, and the people here wanted me to be social. Me, a person who saw letting people know you, as also letting them know your vulnerability. Me, social?  My family has moved quite a bit, in fact the longest I have live in one town was 5 years; so friendships were a come and go thing for me. I knew I was leaving in two years and I didn't go out of my way to make friends, and yet, interactions between the students provided an unavoidable setting for relationships to develop. Students that I was forced to work with soon became my friends, and constantly checked in with me; how did the test go? How late did the homework keep me up? How was I doing? How was my day going? These were questions I never expected, and I often had a difficult time answering them. And then there were the people who talked to me just to talk to me. That extremely puzzled me. Why on earth would anyone go out of their way to be social with an unsocial person? (Granted, I am easily exasperated, and therefore provide plenty of amusement.) These friends came steadily, and the conversations that came out of their visits usually left me critically thinking. Every time I needed to complain or freak out about something, they were always ready to listen. I will greatly miss these people who so kindly took me in.

And now with graduation comes a time of change, because with the completion of anything, one must expect change. This fact was presented to me when one of my instructors told me that because I was no longer their student, I could find them on facebook, so we could keep in touch. I was so taken back by the reminder that I must say goodbye to the life I had been living for the past two years, that I told them that they probably would not want me as a facebook friend ( and I apologize for this strange reaction). But change does not mean the end of everything. Though I must close the door on my life at the community college, I refuse to say goodbye to the relationships I have gained while I was there. No, that door will remain open, always ready to welcome me back.