When I was three years old, my baby brother died moments after his birth. In the year that followed, my mom’s health worsened. She would often fall to the floor because her cramping legs could not support her body weight. So, doctors sentenced my mom to life in a wheelchair. By the time I was five, I was already a physical therapist with appointments at 5 PM every evening. Sitting on the living room floor, I’d guide my mom through leg raises and weighted arm workouts. However, her health continued to worsen because her condition was unidentified and therefore untreated. It was months later that my mom was finally diagnosed with Deep Vein Thrombosis and put on the anticoagulant Warfarin. Soon after, the weakness in her legs subsided, freeing my mom from the confines of her wheelchair and bringing to light that she is a victim of health neglect induced by the medical systems of developing countries. Every day, in rural towns and villages across Asia and Africa, impoverished women from low-caste families like mine compete with hundreds and thousands of patients for the attention of the only two or three doctors available to them. Health check-ups are mere minutes long and almost pointless. Limited money and fears of being a burden silence these women from expressing health concerns. To begin to tackle this problem, I interned with Nigerian public health professionals and political leaders to design a campaign to fight the women’s UTI “pandemic” devastating much of the developing world. These impoverished women are unaware their do-it-yourself methods of using cloth or ash to manage their periods cause UTIs. I strategized targeted ads, conducted safe-space meetings to help women regain their subdued voices, and organized menstrual health workshops. Women became confident in acknowledging issues with their menstrual health and, in the workshops, men started leaving behind deep-rooted period taboos. But a larger problem remained: the inaccessibility of expensive UTI tests. A solution eluded me until I came across an article describing how beetroot concentrate changes color when in contact with substances of pH 8 or higher⁠—that’s the pH blood rises to when a person is infected. I was inspired to eventually invent the U-Pad, a biodegradable pad with a beetroot-concentrate-soaked second absorbent layer. A simple color change on the bottom of the low-cost pad tells a woman she has a UTI and must see a doctor. My invention has the potential to save women in developing countries from the severe complications that result from unattended UTIs. These experiences inspired my vision to work globally with medically underserved communities as an internal medicine physician promoting preventative care. I believe preventative medicine and in-depth routine check-ups are key to preventing long-term consequences from health neglect. As I hope to spearhead more necessary changes through similar health-focused campaigns, a multidisciplinary undergraduate education will enable me to maximize the combined power of medicine, the natural sciences, public policy, and innovation.

When I was three years old, my baby brother died moments after his birth. In the year that followed, my mom’s health worsened. She would often fall to the floor because her cramping legs could not support her body weight. So, doctors sentenced my mom to life in a wheelchair. By the time I was five, I was already a physical therapist with appointments at 5 PM every evening. Sitting on the living room floor, I’d guide my mom through leg raises and weighted arm workouts. However, her health continued to worsen because her condition was unidentified and therefore untreated. It was months later that my mom was finally diagnosed with Deep Vein Thrombosis and put on the anticoagulant Warfarin. Soon after, the weakness in her legs subsided, freeing my mom from the confines of her wheelchair and bringing to light that she is a victim of health neglect induced by the medical systems of developing countries. Every day, in rural towns and villages across Asia and Africa, impoverished women from low-caste families like mine compete with hundreds and thousands of patients for the attention of the only two or three doctors available to them. Health check-ups are mere minutes long and almost pointless. Limited money and fears of being a burden silence these women from expressing health concerns. To begin to tackle this problem, I interned with Nigerian public health professionals and political leaders to design a campaign to fight the women’s UTI “pandemic” devastating much of the developing world. These impoverished women are unaware their do-it-yourself methods of using cloth or ash to manage their periods cause UTIs. I strategized targeted ads, conducted safe-space meetings to help women regain their subdued voices, and organized menstrual health workshops. Women became confident in acknowledging issues with their menstrual health and, in the workshops, men started leaving behind deep-rooted period taboos. But a larger problem remained: the inaccessibility of expensive UTI tests. A solution eluded me until I came across an article describing how beetroot concentrate changes color when in contact with substances of pH 8 or higher⁠—that’s the pH blood rises to when a person is infected. I was inspired to eventually invent the U-Pad, a biodegradable pad with a beetroot-concentrate-soaked second absorbent layer. A simple color change on the bottom of the low-cost pad tells a woman she has a UTI and must see a doctor. My invention has the potential to save women in developing countries from the severe complications that result from unattended UTIs. These experiences inspired my vision to work globally with medically underserved communities as an internal medicine physician promoting preventative care. I believe preventative medicine and in-depth routine check-ups are key to preventing long-term consequences from health neglect. As I hope to spearhead more necessary changes through similar health-focused campaigns, a multidisciplinary undergraduate education will enable me to maximize the combined power of medicine, the natural sciences, public policy, and innovation.

When I was three years old, my baby brother died moments after his birth. In the year that followed, my mom’s health worsened. She would often fall to the floor because her cramping legs could not support her body weight. So, doctors sentenced my mom to life in a wheelchair. By the time I was five, I was already a physical therapist with appointments at 5 PM every evening. Sitting on the living room floor, I’d guide my mom through leg raises and weighted arm workouts. However, her health continued to worsen because her condition was unidentified and therefore untreated. It was months later that my mom was finally diagnosed with Deep Vein Thrombosis and put on the anticoagulant Warfarin. Soon after, the weakness in her legs subsided, freeing my mom from the confines of her wheelchair and bringing to light that she is a victim of health neglect induced by the medical systems of developing countries. Every day, in rural towns and villages across Asia and Africa, impoverished women from low-caste families like mine compete with hundreds and thousands of patients for the attention of the only two or three doctors available to them. Health check-ups are mere minutes long and almost pointless. Limited money and fears of being a burden silence these women from expressing health concerns. To begin to tackle this problem, I interned with Nigerian public health professionals and political leaders to design a campaign to fight the women’s UTI “pandemic” devastating much of the developing world. These impoverished women are unaware their do-it-yourself methods of using cloth or ash to manage their periods cause UTIs. I strategized targeted ads, conducted safe-space meetings to help women regain their subdued voices, and organized menstrual health workshops. Women became confident in acknowledging issues with their menstrual health and, in the workshops, men started leaving behind deep-rooted period taboos. But a larger problem remained: the inaccessibility of expensive UTI tests. A solution eluded me until I came across an article describing how beetroot concentrate changes color when in contact with substances of pH 8 or higher⁠—that’s the pH blood rises to when a person is infected. I was inspired to eventually invent the U-Pad, a biodegradable pad with a beetroot-concentrate-soaked second absorbent layer. A simple color change on the bottom of the low-cost pad tells a woman she has a UTI and must see a doctor. My invention has the potential to save women in developing countries from the severe complications that result from unattended UTIs. These experiences inspired my vision to work globally with medically underserved communities as an internal medicine physician promoting preventative care. I believe preventative medicine and in-depth routine check-ups are key to preventing long-term consequences from health neglect. As I hope to spearhead more changes through similar campaigns, a multidisciplinary undergraduate education will enable me to maximize the combined power of medicine, the natural sciences, public policy, and innovation.