My Dream by George

My Dream by George - March 2024 Scholarship Essay

In the quiet stillness of the night, as the world retreated into slumber, there I lie drifting off into sleep as my grandmother sleeps beside me, gently patting my back. The soft glow of the television filled the room, often displaying Chinese dramas or nightly game shows. These nights were precious to me, for they represented more than a good night’s sleep. They were a time when my grandmother's presence brought warmth to my young heart. The rhythmic motion of her hand on my back lulled me into a peaceful slumber, while the voices emanating from the TV provided a gentle backdrop to these moments. I was convinced that these nights would continue on forever and my grandmother would always be by my side. But here I am corrected by life, as those nights become cherished memories and a reminder that good things often come to an end.
In August of 2021, my grandmother was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer, and the doctors informed her that she had around one year left to live, so she chose to spend the last year with us in America. From that moment on, I assumed a role that I never anticipated: a caregiver. Each morning I was tasked with preparing the daily medications, Covid-19 testing, and her breakfast. In the summer of 2022, our entire family had been infected with Covid-19, and the runny noses and aching coughs made each day more strenuous. As the only person uninfected, it was important that I kept myself healthy so that I wouldn’t add to the burden that already existed.
After battling COVID-19, the virus took a significant toll on my grandmother’s respiratory system, leaving her with diminished lung function and reduced stamina. This breathlessness and fatigue made even short walks a challenge. In my grandmother’s final days, I found myself stranded in an obscure world where her words were replaced by silent gestures, and her movement was restricted to the subtle nod of her head. Each day, I would carefully prepare a mixture of porridge and protein powder, knowing all too well that its taste was inadequate compared to the herby and savory taste of her favorite lamb noodles. With every spoonful, a cry of discontent escaped her lips, a testament to her unyielding spirit and the frustration she felt in her inability to express her desires. It was heart-wrenching to witness as I struggled to come to terms with the helplessness that enveloped my grandmother. I realized that even though I couldn’t better her condition, my love and presence provided her with needed support and comfort.
After just a few days in this condition, her time had come to an end.
I found myself grappling with an overwhelming sense of confusion and loss. The once-familiar rhythm of life seemed to falter as if the world itself was echoing my disbelief. I searched for traces of her presence, a reassuring voice or a comforting touch, only to be met with an unsettling void. Each passing moment was a reminder of the abruptness with which she had departed, and the normalcy of everyday existence now carried an eerie weight. The aching of loss evolved into a driving force, steering me toward a profound realization. If life could be so fragile and short, then my life needed to be one of importance. It was during these contemplative moments that I felt a natural pull towards oncology, the study of cancer. The very disease that had claimed my grandmother now became the battleground where I could make a difference. Fueled by my own experience of loss and a desire to further the field of oncology, I will propel myself forward into a career that would stand as a tribute to her and the countless others facing cancer. My job as an oncologist is not just a career choice; it's a commitment.