My interest in medicine began with something I couldn't see. In elementary school, I explored the microorganisms living on everyday household surfaces for a science fair project I called Micro Strangers at Your Home. The idea that something invisible could shape human health has stayed with me ever since.
That curiosity eventually led me to the lab. At Penn State Lehigh Valley, I first studied how nisin, a bacteriocin, reduces inflammation in immune cells. That project was published in the Columbia Junior Science Journal and named a Regeneron ISEF finalist in microbiology. I then investigated biofilm-related resistance in Pseudomonas putida, where much of my time went into redesigning protocols and troubleshooting experiments that didn't work. Now I'm extending my nisin research into cancer biology, studying its effects on melanoma cells. More than any single result, research has taught me how to fail honestly: to rerun, rethink, and trust the evidence over my expectations.
The same invisible world followed me into the hospital. Over more than 350 hours as a volunteer and patient advocate at St. Luke's University Health Network and LVHN, I have supported patients in Same Day Surgery, the GI Lab, and inpatient units, helping with discharges and transport. I also tracked hand-hygiene practices for infection prevention, a grown-up version of the question I first asked at my kitchen counter. Through the Teen Board of the Pediatric Cancer Foundation of the Lehigh Valley and Penn State College of Medicine's PULSE program, I came to see how illness reaches beyond patients to their families. My questions shifted from what science can do to what it should do, and for whom.
Outside of science, I have played violin for more than nine years. With Music in Momentum, I perform at fundraisers for children's charities and play outreach concerts for underserved children, and as an instructor in the PHS Orchestra Academy, I mentor younger students every day. Music taught me something medicine also asks for: character is built through practice, repeated long after it stops being easy.
Ethos Medicina is where I work through these questions in writing. I don't expect to find final answers here. I hope to become someone who keeps asking them carefully.