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I started caring for my first patient when I was 8 years old. My younger sister, Amelia, was only 3, and because of her chronic health conditions, including asthma and various allergies, our mother frequently brought her into the health clinic for check-ups, blood draws and chest scans. Since I was too young to be left alone, I was part of the after-school doctor’s visit routine. My sister, who like many children dreaded the phlebotomist coming at her with a needle, hated these visits. To help her feel better and manage her fears, I took on the role of sisterly caregiver. I held her hand during every blood draw, talked her through every scan and did my best to distract her from anything new and scary. Seeing how my efforts calmed her and made the doctor’s visits less anxiety-inducing, I committed to being her “doctor-buddy” and going with her for any health-related appointments.

After dozens of appoints, both for my sister, myself and other siblings, I began to recognize our regular nurses and medical assistants by name. They were always kind to me and my siblings, offering comforting words and lollipops. I began to anticipate seeing the various nurses, phlebotomists and scribes, talking their ears off about school or soccer practice. The doctors we met rotated with every visit, and our time with them was always short, as they had many other patients to see at the busy clinic.

Thinking that being a nurse was more fulfilling than being a doctor, and having acted as my sister’s carer, I decided in high school that nursing school would be my goal. I worked hard at school, taking the necessary courses and taking a volunteer position with a mobile health clinic that served hard-to-reach areas in our community. All too soon, I found the work dissatisfying. Because we were a mobile clinic, we were always on the move to the next patient. I couldn’t take my time with each patient and form a bond, as I had with my sister and her nurses. I didn’t feel I was getting the experience or developing the level of patient care I aspired to. I switched to working in a nearby rural St. Joseph hospital as a medical assistant, and there I found the work experience I was craving. I enjoyed working with underserved patients in the rural areas, but I wanted to spend more time with patients instead of paperwork, and I liked having a home base to stay at.

It was here that I met Carmen, one of a handful of physician assistants in the area. She was a constant presence a St. Joseph’s, and since everyone knew everyone, everybody knew Carmen. She had a warm personality and a well-known sharp wit, so she was a great teammate to work with no matter your position in the hospital. When it came to patients, she knew everyone. When a long-term care patient had a birthday, Carmen was organizing the celebration with other residents. When a child came in for a check-up, Carmen was right there asking them about school and family. Carmen exemplified the kind of personalized patient care I aspired to and knew that patients like my sister and I appreciated so much.

Carmen became a mentor to me, and I asked her about her journey to becoming a PA. Since Carmen knew my plan was to become a nurse, she told me “we have many excellent nurses her, but we need more excellent PAs to fill the gaps between nurses and doctors—there are too many patients and too many health workers spread thin. PAs can be the bridge that our patients need.”

Carmen’s words stuck with me and realizing that she was right inspired me to reroute my intended path into healthcare. There is a need for diverse healthcare workers of every discipline, and PAs are underrepresented compared to nurses and doctors. As a PA, I know I have a better chance of increased patient interaction and entering the kind of workplace environment I enjoy. I believe as a PA I’ll be able to excel in work and bring my passion for patient-centred care to my job every day. (698 words)

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