Ignoring the prickle of oncoming tears behind my eyes, my four-year-old self padded to my mother’s bed, where she had been for the past few days. I climbed up to her and laid the cold, wet towel I had brought on her swollen ankles. “This is to help you and Baby feel better, Mamma,” I said, softly touching the swell of her belly. She smiled down at the improperly wrung-out towel now dripping water onto the sheets. Not trusting myself to speak further without crying, I left her to rest. Fortunately, my mother overcame her preeclampsia diagnosis, which she experienced during her pregnancy with my younger sister and with me. While she may have forgotten the day I gave her that towel, it is the memory of that moment that made me decide to become a physician. To my younger self, that is what being a doctor meant: putting aside my own fear to make my mom feel better. Like my father, great-grandmother, and others before them, I resolved to carry on what my family name, “Vaidya,” meant: physician. As I grew older, though, I had to ensure that my initial romanticized declaration was a deliberate goal. I was drawn to premedical sciences in school, especially as the coursework progressed; I enjoyed the increasing depth of knowledge. I also had a research internship at the Magee-Womens Research Institute, where I researched the cardiovascular effects of preeclampsia. This allowed me to relate my mom’s experience and my academic knowledge to a research setting with clinical applications. With my academic interest in medicine solidified, I started to seek out clinical experiences, like volunteering in the emergency room at Washington Hospital. Rounding in the crowded emergency waiting room often left me frustrated with not being able to offer patients help beyond comforting words. Feeling helpless on their behalf made me realize how well physicians balance diagnosing patients with the empathy they feel for them. I was able to see this balance when I shadowed an interventional cardiologist at UPMC Passavant Hospital. I remember one of his patients feeling hopeless after learning of the calcification in the arteries near her heart. He patiently explained her condition and helped her make lifestyle changes that, with clinical treatment, would reduce the calcifications. After she left, he explained the importance of keeping patients motivated while respecting the barriers they may face in making healthy choices. Like the cardiologist, I want to bridge the two ends of the human spectrum: intellectualizing and empathizing. While it was my mother’s preeclampsia diagnosis and my ancestral history that sparked my interest in medicine, it is my desire to directly impact patient care while having the deepest level of knowledge about the human body and the deepest level of empathy for people that drives me to become a physician. This motivation became apparent when I was a Covid-19 vaccine administrator. I studied all the potential side effects and kept up with new research to better inform patients. I also mastered the art of distraction and crafting goofy stories to make fearful children leave the appointment tear-free. I enjoyed discovering all the details about a particular topic and caring for patients beyond what is required. My experiences proved to me that my four-year-old self was not wrong: amongst other things, being a physician boils down to being there for your patient, both from a clinical and empathetic perspective, to ultimately help them feel better – and the “From Anna and Ava” scholarship will help me achieve my goal of becoming such a physician by helping me fund my future medical school tuition.