Throughout my time as a hospice volunteer, my patient profoundly impacted my understanding of patient care. Once a standout college athlete in baseball and basketball and a dedicated high school biology teacher, my patient now faces the daily challenges of dementia and Parkinson’s disease. Despite these hardships, his love for sports and science remains, shining through in small yet significant ways. Moments when he recalls an old game or shares a biological fact remind me that he is more than his illness—he is a person with a rich history, deserving of dignity and respect.
When I first began volunteering, I saw my role as simply providing comfort and companionship. Over time, I realized that my presence meant more than just being there; it offered a sense of continuity and validation. Even when words failed him, my patient would nod with recognition when I mentioned a sports team he once loved. Through him, I learned that patient care is not just about treatment—it’s about understanding a person’s identity beyond their diagnosis. This shift in perspective has fundamentally changed the way I view medicine. I now understand that illness does not define a patient; rather, it is one part of a much larger, deeply personal story.
Working in hospice has also challenged me emotionally and intellectually. At times, it was difficult to witness the decline of my patient I had grown attached to. I often found myself wondering if I was doing enough or if my presence truly made a difference. However, through quiet moments with my patient, I learned that sometimes, the greatest gift you can offer is simply being there. Whether sharing stories, sitting in silence, or holding a hand, these small gestures hold immense meaning.
Watching Being Mortal reinforced these lessons, for the documentary highlights the tension between the medical field’s instinct to fight disease and the reality that some conditions cannot be fixed. Dr. Atul Gawande’s reflections on end-of-life care resonated deeply with my experience with my patient. The film emphasized that patient care should prioritize quality of life, and meaningful conversations about values and dignity should not be left until the final days. This idea was evident in my time with my patient, for while medical interventions could not reverse his condition, the care and companionship he received still brought moments of joy and comfort. This realization has influenced my sense of vocation, for I now aspire to be a physician who prioritizes not just medical outcomes but also the emotional and psychological well-being of patients.
My hospice experience has prepared me to approach medicine with a more holistic perspective—understanding that compassion and connection are just as vital as medical interventions. For my medical school application, this experience will also serve as a defining moment in my journey. It has given me first hand exposure to the complexities of patient care, particularly in the face of chronic and terminal illnesses. It has strengthened my commitment to becoming a physician who listens deeply, provides comfort, and acknowledges the humanity in each patient. Hospice work has shown me that while medicine may not always have a cure, it can always offer care. And in those moments—holding a hand, sharing a story, sitting in silence—medicine is at its most powerful.