Hey all, so I am in the midst of finishing up my application to GI Fellowship and would greatly appreciate your help in reading and critiquing my personal statement. Please feel free to be as brutally honest, detail oriented, grammar nazi or what have you as you want. Anything that can make this better and help me get my fellowship is well worth any potential hurt feelings you think you might get. Positive feedback appreciated too of course =)

“I didnt know people could turn that color” I thought to myself as I looked at the patient in bed 32b, his skin a diseased shade of yellow I had previously only seen in the spice section at my local ethnic market.

I love gastroenterology because it offers me the best of all worlds: Procedures such as egd,ercp, and eus to not only diagnose but often immediately treat GI problems; and continuity of care with chronic diseases such as hepatits or inflammatory bowel disease where I am able to follow and build a lasting relationship with my patients.

-Dr J

Despite my earlier post and your natural assumptions, I have continued to work a little to refine my personal statement everyday. It’s still a train of thought but at last a cohesive idea is beginning to take shape. Your thoughts and comments, directions on where to go, what is not going to work, etc as always, are appreciated.

—

GI is a specialty of contrasts. Where some of the greatest technological advances are being made every year in fields like capsule endoscopy, virtual colonoscopy, endoscopic ultrasound…for the technophile, it is pure heaven. At the same time, travel abroad, to rural villages and you find the physical diagnosis skills are still just as important, with the GI physical exam revealing just as much information as ever. The digital rectal exam is still the best way to detect prostate cancer. Jaundice, asterixis and hemangiomas will tell you about a cirrhotic patient long before you can reach a ct machine. Ascites doesnt require anything more than a glance and a touch to diagnose and another simple low tech procedure to treat, although even that has been given the higer tech accompanient of ultrasound. The joining of the old and the new seen in GI is perhaps the best field for the physican of my generation…learning to balance the classical diagnostic skills of the time honored tradition and those who came before while making use of the knowledge from those far ahead.

The majority of the health problems outside the united states are often gastrointestinal or infectious in origin, and quite frequently both. The knolwedge of how to diagnose and treat gi bleeds, hepatitis, and a host of other intestinal anomalies,gives me an incredible set of tools with which to travel. And ultimately, I would like to do so. I am a hands on kind of guy, I want to travel to rural areas with doctors without borders, combine my love of being abroad, with my love of medicine.

I spent a month in china learning acupuncture and traditional chinese medicine and the number of herbs they use is astonishing and an excellent area for further research. Already spices like turmeric and ginger are making strides in treating conditions like inflammatory bowel disease, nash, and being used as promotility agents. This only further helps to tie in another of my hobbies with GI, cooking. I could become a better chef and researcher at the same time.

Liver patients also pose an interest to me…they are among the most complex patients any doctor has to deal with and the constant fine tuning of those with chronic conditions, up to and including transplant hepatology is just as exciting. finding the right recipe to keep each person thriving, with no two patients the same.

So why do I want to do GI? A long tradition as a specialty, mixing old techniques with new technology, the opportunity to perform procedures and intervene directly with the patient from pegs to colonoscopies all the way up to transplant. A chance to deal with acute issues like bleeds or pancreatitis to chronic follow up patients like ibd or cirrhotics. Skills that can help me in the old and new worlds, and ones that already tie into my hobbies of traveling and cooking. Advances in research being made into long overlooked traditional remedies alongside new pharmaceuticals that offer promise where before there was only maintenance. What first appears to be a field of contrasts for a man of contrasts, ends up coming full circle to being a unified specialty for a man with a single goal

–

yes yes, i know i need more things about my personal statement and less a glowing paean to the gods of GI, but before I can write anything to make this personal, I had to figure out all over again why i wanted to do this, and hopefull I am getting closer to that.

Okay now this is just getting ridiculous-I have sent in the majority of my applications, and a few of the optho programs want supplemental materials. For the most part this is easy, as they are merely requesting my CV and a photo, the photo presumably because nobody wants to be treated by an ugly doctor, and that will help me pass the first cut-off in interview selection.

One school however, the university of Miami, an amazingly good optho program requires this:

U miami Bascon Palmer: Additional
materials required aside from CAS: a signed autobiographical sketch
not to exceed 600 words

Are you freaking kidding me? Could we make this any more vague? I mean, i already sent in my personal statement (thanks internet for proofing that which covers the whole why i want to be a doctor and now they are requesting ANOTHER personal statement and I honestly have no clue what they expect of me. Including my alternate statement for my backup specialty, this will make the third ps i have had to write in 2 months. I am just about drained of personality.

In any event, like all my other statements, I am going to post it here on xanga. Not in the hopes that you, my ever so patient readership will assist in editing. No, I have asked that too much of you lately, and it is hard enough to get people to comment. I am posting it here because I have a functional writers block staring at a blank open office document, but I seem to be able to pound something out, no matter how inane or craptastic staring at this little text box here on xanga. So if you read this, thanks for your time, and if you dont…erm, thanks for nothing?

——————

Umiami Autobiographical Sketch: No Reservations

Scorpion doesnt sting quite as much as you would think-at least on the tongue. I discovered this at the Night Market in Beijing, China. I visited China for one month in the summer between my first and second year of medical school to study traditional chinese medicine such as acupuncture, moxibustion, and cupping. Learning about eastern medicine however, was only a part of the reason behind the trip, the remainder being to explore a new culture, country, and continent.

I have always loved traveling, and China was only my latest stop in a series of jaunts around the world. In each locale I always tried to find not only some activity unique to the country, but also to learn at least a few words in the language, and immerse myself in the regional cuisine. Considering myself a bit of a “foodie”, I figure the best way to start learning about another culture is to eat it. Nothing starts a conversation like a shared meal.

Which is how I found myself staring down the stinger of a deep fried scorpion. A group of us all in the acupuncture program has set out to complete an Iron Stomach Challenge, competing in a gustatory version of the game “chicken” to see who was most willing to fully embrace the full range of edible oddities available. We had already sampled the famous Peking duck complete with internal organs at a five star restaurant, rancid butter tea and yak genitals at a Tibetan restaurant, and “meat on stick” as the sign read at the stand adjoining our hotel. A travel guide listed Wangfujing street as the place to find exotic street food, so that was decided upon as our next stop.

The stalls were lined with vendors selling cockroaches, starfish, crickets, snakes, everything I could imagine and a few things of which I had never thought. My digital camera at the ready as always, I snapped pictures of everything to ensure I wouldnt forget the experience; I needn’t have worried.

The first bite was a cross between shrimp and french fries, crunchy on the outside with a chewy salty center that was actually rather pleasant on the tongue. The stinger while intimidating at first, was actually the easiest part and only pricked my tongue slightly while being consumed. Thankfully, no acupuncture was needed to heal me afterwards, though I am sure any of my fellow classmates would have been more than happy to put our newly accquired knowledge to good use should my qi have needed correction.

On my return to the states, I posted all the albums and journal entries on my blog where the friends I made on my travels could see the adventures we had shared like bento boxes at the summit of Mount Fuji, fresh caught seafood on the banks of the mekong river in Thailand, paella and rioja at a tapas bar in Madrid and many others. (do i come off as too pushy here?-if so, nix this paragraph)

I view life as an adventure, and among my goals is to visit every continent at least once and learn about its people, places and cultures while I am there. I hope to one day be able to combine my love of traveling with the career I have chosen for myself, and participate in medical missions which will allow me to interact with a place’s inhabitants as more than just a tourist, providing services in exchange for the opportunities I have been given to explore the world around me. At the very least, I can discover if everything really does taste like chicken.

I would GREATLY appreciate your feedback on my personal statement for internal medicine. This is only a first draft, so any criticism on it is helpful. That is to say, if you read this at all, please leave a comment with your thoughts on how it could be improved or even just the gestalt you get from it. That said, here we go

—

I have always loved detective stories.
The trained observer arriving at the scene of the crime, unable to
prevent the incident, but possibly capable of unraveling the mystery.
How one seemingly innocuous clue, one insignificant detail becomes
the linchpin to the whole case. How nothing more than wits and
determination transform a rather ordinary Joe into the framework of
an extraordinary adventure.

The trained physician, much like the
trained detective must learn to use all of his senses above and
beyond the normal. We auscultate heart and lungs, We peer both
superficially with our eyes, and deeply with our machines, we smell
illness from lesions, we feel irregularities in bone structure or
rectal tone, and back in the day, some even used to taste urine,
though that is one mystery I am personally glad to leave unsolved.

When I began my third year of medical
school, I was the Watson to the hospital’s Holmes. I could only
observe in astonishment as the resident or attending would piece
together unrelated symptoms and complaints into a diagnosis, often
within minutes, while i struggled to come to a conclusion with the
same basic information.

Like Watson though, as time wore on, I
began to follow the reasoning and even pick up on clues myself.
During my rotation in internal medicine, my team had a patient who
had presented with a sudden onset of fever beginning one week
earlier, myalgia and abdominal pain. While all initial signs pointed
to influenza, my history revealed that the patient had recently
traveled to Venezuela to visit family. That piece of knowledge helped
lead my team to discover the real culprit was dengue fever, and the
patient quickly recovered. The thrill in solving the case stuck with
me, and with each successive patient my ability to create
differentials and perform the clinical reasoning process improves.

Internal medicine holds the greatest
appeal to me as a field due to its sheer variety. The internist is
the doctor’s doctor, the archetype conjured by the word a figure who
through careful questioning teases out the problem and then provides
the solution. The internist not only helps to identify the main
problem, but often coordinates care between different teams such as
surgery or social work. Additionally, the number of sub-specialties
available provide near-limitless opportunity for the physician
looking for a further challenge.

In all my successive rotations, it was
the skills and abilities from my internal medicine rotation that I
turned to first. Each rotation had something new to offer me, but it
was against internal medicine that they were all measured.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle began his career
in medicine, only later to utilize his talents in creating the worlds
greatest detective. Interest in his stories helped to stoke my own
interest in medicine as the ultimate mystery. A story is nothing more
than a predefined beginning and end. With graduation, one chapter
ends. But as for this character, many mysteries remain to be solved.

—

So there you have it…i eagerly await your thoughts

-Almost Dr J

Thanks for all the feedback thus far…looks like I am mostly fixing up grammatical errors now. Definetly dont want to make any of those, as one of the doctors i used to work with told me he actually mis-spelled ophthalmologist on his residency application. That would be…embarassing, to say the least

If you had to give up one of your senses, which would it be? What
single way of experiencing your environment would you cling to at all
cost?
For many, I suspect the desire to see would be retained at the expense
of the other senses. We are visual creatures, after all- isn’t it said
that seeing is believing, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder? One of my hobbies is photography,
an incredibly sight oriented art form. And the first and most important lesson
in photography is to focus, in order to best direct the attention of the
audience so they can see and experience the situation as you did.

My first view of medicine was panoramic, and I tried to take everything
in at once with a wide, unbiased view. I transported patients in an
emergency room, I performed research with a chiropractor, I worked as a
technician
assisting with LASIK, anything that would give me a  glimpse into the
world
of healthcare. While my exposure to each field was limited, the one
that
ultimately contributed the most to my development was the time I spent
interning for my ophthalmologist.

At first, it was just another healthcare-related job; Once I zoomed in however,
I noticed how happy everyone seemed to be. The elderly man having
cataract surgery so he can pick vegetables at the farmers market, the
father bringing in his daughter for her first contact lens fitting, the
woman overjoyed to find a botox injection would restore the sight previously hindered by her droopy lids. 
Even the doctors appeared as if there was nowhere they would rather be
than reassuring  a patient about dry eyes, or excitedly scheduling the
LASIK
appointment for a new patient. The entire atmosphere was friendly,
relaxed, and above all, personal. The doctors really knew their
patients, not just as a differential or problem list, but as people.

Just prior to leaving for medical school, I underwent LASIK myself, a
patient with an in depth knowledge of my condition but no less
concerned about someone cutting open my eye, regardless of the size of
the blade. The doctors, along with their staff, provided just as much
information and support as if I had walked into
their office devoid of any technical knowledge.  I left to begin my own
medical training with clearer vision in both body and spirit.

As I went through my
third year, I enjoyed the majority of my rotations, especially the ones in which I had more opportunity to interact and follow up with a patient
beyond the initial admission, learning more about them than just the
reason they came to the hospital. Despite that, I never seemed to feel that one “ah-ha!”
moment, that snapshot that we are all told will come to us when we have found
the right field.

Until, that is, I decided to revisit the field of ophthalmology, doing a rotation near the end
of my third year. All of a sudden, everything seemed to come into
focus; no matter how many patients I saw, or how complicated they were,
I felt confident and the days just seemed to fly by.

It is said that hindsight is always 20/20. While I didn’t know it at
the time, my early experiences in ophthalmology focused my interest
enough to try it again in medical school, only to find that both my
desire and enjoyment of the field has been magnified a hundredfold.
Everytime I use my digital camera to capture a random face, or set up
my tripod to shoot a landscape, it reminds me of how happy I am to have
“perfect” vision and how I would like to work toward giving others that
same opportunity. So I am taking my shot…all that remains is to see
what develops.

So there it is…I have read all your suggestions, and left onyl a few elements unchanged as a matter of personal preference. The hardest part of my optho app is now done. Not the most nerve wracking, just the hardest

Fewer corrections made this time around…are we nearing a finished product?

–

If you had to give up one of your senses, which would it be? What single way of experiencing your environment would you cling to at all cost?
For many, I suspect the desire to see would be retained at the expense
of the other senses. We are visual creatures-after all, isn’t it said
that seeing is believing, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder? One of my hobbies is photography,
an incredibly sight oriented art form. And the first and most important lesson
in photography is to focus, in order to best direct the attention of the
audience so they can see and experience the situation as you did.

My first view of medicine was panoramic, and I tried to take everything
in at once with a wide , unbiased view. I transported patients in an emergency room, I performed research with a chiropractor, I worked as a technician
assisting with LASIK, anything that would give me a  glimpse into the world
of healthcare. While my exposure to each field was limited, the one that
ultimately contributed the most to my development was the time I spent
interning for my ophthalmologist

At first, it was just another healthcare related job; Once I zoomed in however,
I noticed how happy  everyone seemed to be. The  elderly man having
cataract surgery so he can pick vegetables at the farmers market, the
father bringing in his daughter for her first contact lens fitting, the
woman overjoyed to find a botox injection would restore the sight previously hindered by her droopy lids.  Even the doctors appeared as if there was nowhere they would rather be than reassuring  a patient about dry eyes, or excitedly scheduling the LASIK
appointment for a new patient. The entire atmosphere was friendly, relaxed, and above all, personal. The doctors really knew their
patients, not just as a differential or problem list, but as people.

Just prior to leaving for medical school, I underwent LASIK myself, a
patient with an in depth knowledge of my condition but no less
concerned about someone cutting open my eye, regardless of the size of the blade. The doctors, along with their staff, provided just as much information and support as if I had walked into
their office devoid of any technical knowledge.  I left to begin my own
medical training with clearer vision in both body and spirit

As I went through my
third year, I enjoyed the majority of my rotations, especially the ones
wherein I had more opportunity to interact and follow up with a patient
beyond the initial admission, learning more about them than just the
reason they came to the hospital. Despite that, I never seemed to feel that one “ah-ha!”
moment, that snapshot that we are all told will come to us when we have found
the right field.

Until, that is, I decided revisit the field of ophthalmology, doing a rotation near the end
of my third year. All of a sudden, everything seemed to come into
focus; no matter how many patients I saw, or how complicated they were,
I felt confident and the days just seemed to fly by.

It is said that hindsight is always 20/20. While I didn’t know it at
the time, my early experiences in ophthalmology focused my interest
enough to try it again in medical school, only to find that both my
desire and enjoyment of the field has been magnified a hundredfold.
Everytime I use my digital camera to capture a random face, or set up
my tripod to shoot a landscape, it reminds me of how happy I am to have
“perfect” vision and I would like to work toward giving others that
same opportunity. So I am taking my shot…all that remains is to see
what develops

–

SO folks, do you think this is ready to submit to my advisor, or can you help me get to a round 4,5 or dare i say 6? Not to mention that I have to pound out another personal statement for internal medicine in the event i dont match (knock on wood)

Alright people, the first draft was admittedly horrible, but only one of you had the courage to step up and tell me so…based on her comments, here is attempt two. Feel free to correct anything and everything you notice.

MOAR FEEDBACK PLZ

If you had to give up one of your senses, which would it be? What one way of experiencing your environment would you cling to at all cost? For many, I suspect the desire to see would be retained at the expense of the other senses. We are visual creatures-after all, isn’t it said that seeing is believing, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder? One of my hobbies is photography,
an incredibly sight oriented art form. And the first and most important lesson
in photography is to focus, in order to best direct the attention of the
audience to where you wish it to be.

My first view of medicine was panoramic, and I tried to take everything in at once with a wide , unbiased view. I transported patients in an ER, I performed research with a chiropractor, I worked as a technician performing LASIK, anything that would give me a  glimpse into the world of health. While my exposure to each field was limited, the one that ultimately most contributed to my development was the time I spent interning for my ophthalmologist

At first, it was just another healthcare job; Once I zoomed in however, I noticed how happy  everyone seemed to be. The  elderly man having cataract surgery so he can pick vegetables at the farmers market, the father bringing in his daughter for her first contact lens fitting, the woman overjoyed to find a botox injection would restore the sight caused by  her droopy lids.  Even the doctors themselves, reassuring  a patient about dry eyes, or excitedly planning  the LASIK appointment for a new patient. The entire atmosphere was friendly, reassuring, and above all, personal. The doctors really knew their patients, not just as a differential or problem list, but as people.

Just before leaving for medical school, I underwent LASIK myself, a patient with an in depth knowledge of my condition but no less concerned about someone taking a knife to my eye. The staff and doctors provided just as much information and support as if I had walked into their office devoid of any technical knowledge.  I left to begin my own medical training with clearer vision in both body and spirit

As I went through my third year, I enjoyed the majority of my rotations, especially the ones wherein I had more opportunity to interact and follow up with a patient beyond the initial admission, learning more about them than just the reason they came to the hospital. Despite that, I never seemed to feel that one “ah-ha!”
moment, that snapshot that we are all told will come to us when we have found
the right field.

Until, that is, I decided to do an ophthalmology rotation near the end of my third year. All of a sudden, everything seemed to come into focus; no matter how many patients I saw, or how complicated they were, I felt confident and the days just seemed to fly by.

It is said that hindsight is always 20/20. While I didn’t know it at the time, my early experiences in ophthalmology focused my interest enough to try it again in medical school, only to find that both my desire and enjoyment of the field had been magnified a hundredfold. Everytime I use my digital camera to capture a random face, or set up my tripod to shoot a landscape, it reminds me of how happy I am to have “perfect” vision and I would like to work toward giving others that same opportunity. So I am taking my shot…all that remains is to see what develops

Alright so lets take a crack at this, shall we?

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I am not two dimensional and neither is
my world. Everything around me is constantly jumping out competing
for attention, and the first way most people tend to experience their
world is with their eyes. One of my hobbies is photography, an
incredibly sight oriented art form. And the first and most important lesson in
photography is to focus, in order to best direct the attention of the
audience to where you wish it to be.

My first view of medicine was panoramic, as I tried to take it all in at once. I transported patients in an ER, I did research with a chiropracter, I worked as a technician performing LASIK, anything that would give me a glimpse into the world of health. While my exposure to each field was limited, the one that ultimately most contributed to my development was the time I spent interning for my ophthalmologist.

At first, I thought of it as nothing more than a job like any other. Once I zoomed in however, I noticed how happy everyone seemed to be; The patients returning month after month, either for follow ups or to have their sight corrected; The doctors, performing procedures varying from cataract removal to LASIK; and me, getting to assist in surgeries and developing a relationship with people i still see to this day.

Just before leaving for medical school, I underwent LASIK myself. The procedure left me with a better focus, both literally and metaphorically. As I went through my third year, I enjoyed the majority of my rotations,especially the ones wherein I had more opportunity to interact and follow up with a patient beyond the initialy admission. Despite that, I never seemed to feel that one “ah-ha!” moment, that snapshot that we are all told will come to us when we have found the right field.

Until, that is, I decided to do an ophthalmology rotation near the end of my third year. All of a sudden, everything seemed to come into focus; no matter how many patients I saw, or how complicated they were, I felt confident and the days just seemed to fly by. Like everything had become picture perfect, just waiting for me to step in and complete the shot

It is said that hindsight is always 20/20. While I didnt know it at the time, my early experiences in ophthalmology focused my interest enough to try it again in medical school, only to find that both my desire and enjoyment of the field had been magnified a hundredfold. So I am taking my shot-all that remains is to see what develops.

Well, there you have it. My first attempt at a personal statement for residency, though certainly not my last. I openly invite any and all constructive criticism on this, as it desperately needs to be polished before september rolls around. Feel free to be as harsh as you want, provided it will ultimately lead to something i can improve