Session 607

Kelviyana is a medical student whose journey began when she became her mother’s primary caregiver at just 15 years old. She shares how that experience – and a remarkable physician who treated her whole family, not just the patient – sparked her calling to become a doctor, led her to pivot from dentistry to medicine, and helped her stop living as a “box-checking premed” and start living as herself.

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Listen to this podcast episode with the player above, or keep reading for the highlights and takeaway points.

Realizing the Calling to Become a Physician

For many students, the idea of becoming a doctor starts with a vague interest in science or a love for helping people. For Kelviyana, it started in a very real and painful place. At 15, her mom was diagnosed with cancer. Overnight, she went from being a high school athlete and student to being her mother’s primary caregiver.

She was just starting 10th grade and conditioning for volleyball. At the same time, she was managing appointments, handling day‑to‑day care, and supporting her mom through surgery and radiation. It was a lot for any teenager, but she pushed through because there was no other option. Her mom watched her juggle everything and called her a “superwoman.” That comment stuck with her.

In that season, she saw how powerful it is to be someone’s steady person in a crisis. She realized she loved being that safe, reliable presence for her mom. But she also felt something deeper. She didn’t just want to do this for one person in one chapter of her life. She wanted to live a life where she could be that kind of support, hope, and strength for many people over many years.

At first, she didn’t think of that as “I want to be a doctor.” She thought of it as “I want to be a source of hope.” Over time, she noticed that healthcare is exactly where people are most vulnerable and most in need of that hope. Patients and families walk into hospitals and clinics scared, confused, and often overwhelmed. She knew what that felt like from the inside.

She also saw how much trust it takes to walk through treatment. Families have to trust the team, the plan, and the person leading that plan. Being part of that journey felt deeply meaningful to her. She wanted to be someone people could trust enough to be honest with, to cry in front of, and to lean on when they were terrified of what might come next.

That is when medicine began to make sense. It wasn’t just about science. It was about walking alongside people in their most fragile moments. It’s about helping them feel seen, heard, and held together. She realized that being a physician would let her combine knowledge, leadership, empathy, and that “superwoman” kind of presence – but in a sustainable, trained, ethical way.

Inspiration from Healthcare Team Interactions

Her mom’s physician didn’t just treat a disease. He treated a whole family. That difference is what really stayed with her.

He took time to get to know who her mom was as a person. Then he adjusted how he spoke and what he emphasized so that it matched her mom’s personality, values, and way of understanding. He didn’t stick to stiff, technical explanations. Instead, he used images, humor, and creativity to lower the fear in the room. One day, as they were moving forward with the treatment plan, he grabbed a marker, had her mom lie down, and started sketching things out on her like a play diagram.

In that moment, her mom joked that it looked like a “playbook,” and he leaned into that. He turned a terrifying process into something a little more familiar and less overwhelming. It was still serious, but it felt more human and approachable.

That creativity showed her that medicine isn’t just about facts and protocols. It can also be about storytelling, teaching, and meeting people where they are.

What impacted Kelviyana even more was how this physician treated her as a teenager. Instead of seeing her as just “the daughter in the corner,” he invited her in. He waved her over, made sure she could see and hear, and explained things in a way that a 15‑year‑old could follow. He didn’t assume she was too young to understand. He gave her a role in the process and made her feel like part of the team caring for her mom.

She also noticed how he led the broader healthcare team. She watched him assign tasks, communicate clearly, and keep nurses, staff, and family members on the same page. It looked coordinated and intentional, not chaotic. That leadership – calm, structured, and compassionate – made everything feel smoother during a very hard time.

Seeing all of this, she began to picture herself in his place. She could imagine being the one to guide a family through a diagnosis, explain options, coordinate care, and keep everyone grounded. She didn’t just want to be a helper on the side. She wanted to be the person at the center who held the medical plan together, while still honoring the emotions and humanity in the room.

These interactions convinced her that being a physician isn’t only about prescribing or operating. It’s also about communication, trust, and making people feel less alone. Watching her mom’s doctor blend medical skill with empathy, creativity, and leadership gave her a concrete vision of the kind of doctor she wants to be.

Early Career Aspirations and Pivot to Medicine

Long before she committed to medicine, Kelviyana tried to solve a simple but stressful problem many kids face: answering the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” She had a lot of ideas – singer, veterinarian – but none felt solid. She didn’t like the feeling of not being sure. So she turned to her faith and the leaders in her religious community, asking what her calling might be.

One day in Sunday school, she opened a book and saw a “fun fact” that changed everything. It said the top job in America – most flexible and highest‑paying – was dentistry. That line jumped out at her. It gave her a clear, practical answer. She didn’t just accept it blindly, though. She started doing research, learning what dentists do, which schools had strong dental programs, and what it would take to get there.

Once she locked onto dentistry, she went all in. She focused on getting into colleges that had dental schools or strong pipelines to them. She studied hard, planned her high school and early college path around that goal, and shaped her activities to fit that future. At that point, it looked like dentistry would be her lifelong plan.

But life shifted when her mom got sick and she stepped into the role of caregiver. Being so close to the medical side of her mom’s journey – and seeing the physician who treated her whole family – changed how she saw herself. Dentistry still seemed like a good job, but medicine started to feel like a calling. It wasn’t just a stable career; it was a way to live out that desire to be a source of hope and leadership in moments of deep vulnerability.

The pivot from dentistry to medicine was not a small decision. It meant rethinking years of planning and hard work. It also meant facing a longer, more demanding path. But as she reflected on what truly moved her – the caregiving, the trust, the team, the impact – she realized that becoming a physician aligned more closely with who she was becoming. That’s when dentistry shifted from “the plan” to “part of the journey,” and medicine became the destination.

Choosing the Right College and Premed Program

When it came time for college, Kelviyana didn’t just ask, “Where can I get in?” She asked, “Where can I build the path I want?” At first, that meant looking for strong dental programs. The University of Florida quickly rose to the top of her list. It had the reputation, the resources, and the connection to dental education she was looking for. When she later pivoted from dentistry to medicine, UF still made sense. Its premed track and overall academic strength gave her confidence that she could grow there as an aspiring physician.

She also did more than read brochures. She wanted to know what life at UF was actually like. She went on the school’s website, looked up advisors willing to talk to high school students, and got connected to current UF students. Instagram became another tool – she searched UF‑related pages and found people already living the experience she wanted. Hearing from them helped her see where she might fit, what challenges to expect, and how UF could support her long‑term goals.

Once she arrived on campus, the size of UF’s premed population became very real. Large lectures and “weed‑out” classes made it easy to feel like just one face in a crowd. To fight that, she took simple but bold steps: sitting in the front row, going to office hours, and making sure professors knew who she was and how serious she was. At the same time, she paid attention to how the school’s environment aligned with her values – things like community, diversity, and access to mentorship.

Creating the HAPPY Club: Filling a Need, Not a Resume Line

On campus, she noticed that “health” was often treated like a trend or a luxury. Some outreach stopped at handing out food, without deeper talk about long‑term health. She wanted to show people that health can be approachable, even on a tight budget. When she couldn’t find a club that matched this vision, she created one.

She started the HAPPY Club – Health and Advocacy Promotion Initiative. The goal was to help people see real, affordable ways to care for their health, like finding better choices at WalMart or Dollar Tree. The club did end up on her resume, but that wasn’t the main point. She started it because she saw a need. Her mom had taught her that meeting a need can also fill your own cup.

Rising Above the Culture of Checking the Boxes

Kelviyana knows how strong the box‑checking mindset is in premed culture. Many students are used to formulas: do the work, follow the rubric, get the grade. Then medical schools say, “Be unique. Show us who you are.” But they don’t hand out a clear list of steps. That gap makes students desperate to find the “perfect” list of activities.

She sees this as a bigger issue with how education works. From childhood, school rewards following directions, not building identity. So when there is no checklist, students feel lost.

Still, this space without a formula is where real personality and impact can show. Med schools don’t post a formula because they don’t want robots. They want people who chose activities that mattered to them.

Imposter Syndrome, Mentorship, and Seeing Yourself in the Story

For her, imposter syndrome grows when you don’t see people like you in the places you want to reach. Mentorship changed that. She met people who had struggled, withdrawn from classes, even failed, and still wore white coats. Hearing their stories made her own setbacks feel less like proof she didn’t belong.

She believes in reaching out, even when it’s scary. That can mean cold emailing, asking professors or TAs, joining clubs, or using connections from volunteer work. If someone says no, you can ask if they know anyone else. Those efforts helped her find mentors who didn’t just talk – they showed her, with their own lives, that imperfect students can still become strong, caring doctors.

The Medical School Application Process

Networking Her Way to a One‑Cycle Med School Acceptance

Kelviyana applied to medical school once and was accepted. She credits that to networking and targeted research. She looked beyond MCAT and GPA. She searched for schools that valued things she cared about, like diversity, arts in medicine, and preventive nutrition. Then she emailed those offices and people. She credits that success mostly to networking and very intentional research, not to being “perfect” on paper. Before she ever hit submit, she spent time understanding what different schools valued and how her story fit with those values.

She sent emails to diversity offices, admissions‑related staff, and other contacts she found online. In those emails, she explained what drew her to the school and how her own experiences, like her health advocacy and arts‑related work, might fit into their community.

Her emails were personal and specific. She explained why certain programs or values caught her eye and how they connected to her own work, like her club. For nearby schools, she asked about tours or opportunities to visit. In some cases, schools even told her directly what they liked to see, such as students involved in arts and medicine. That kind of insight is rare if you never talk to anyone.

By the time her application arrived, she wasn’t just another anonymous name. She was someone who had already shown curiosity, initiative, and a clear connection to the school’s mission. These conversations gave her a clearer picture of each school and helped the schools see her as a real person, not just a file. In some cases, she even learned what types of experiences they especially liked to see.

In the end, her process shows that applying well is not just about numbers. It’s about doing the homework, reaching out, and showing schools who you really are and how you might contribute to their community.

Transitioning to Medical School and Overcoming Challenges

The jump from being a strong premed to becoming a medical student was a shock for Kelviyana. In undergrad, working hard, being organized, and relying on memorization often led to good grades. Med school felt different from the very beginning. The volume of content was huge, but it wasn’t just the amount that was hard. The material itself demanded a new level of critical thinking. There were gray areas, exceptions to rules, and questions that forced her to apply concepts in ways she hadn’t seen before.

That shift was humbling. She describes how failure – on quizzes, exams, or blocks – is very real in medical school and how it can hit your confidence hard. Many students come in used to being top of their class. When they see lower scores, they start to question their intelligence, their preparation, and even whether they belong there at all. She was no different. Some grades shook her. They made her confront fears she hadn’t had to face as much in undergrad.

Learning to Ask for Help

At first, she thought asking for help from the school was risky. She worried they might see her as weak or unfit and push her out. In her mind, the school expected perfection, and admitting struggle felt dangerous. But what happened was the opposite. Her school actually pushed her to lean on their support systems. Faculty and staff reminded her that med schools expect students to struggle and have built resources – tutoring, academic support, counseling – because they know the journey is hard.

Reaching out for help became a turning point. Instead of hiding her struggles, she met with people who could help her analyze what went wrong and what could change. That meant looking at her study strategies, her schedule, and even her mindset. Over time, she learned that asking for help wasn’t a sign she didn’t belong. It was a sign she took her training – and her future patients – seriously.

She’s very open about the emotional side of this. Med school will test not only your knowledge but also your sense of self. The key, in her experience, is to remember that one test, one score, or even one rough block does not define you. What matters is how you respond—whether you isolate and hide, or reach out and allow others to support you. For her, the decision to lean on her institution’s help, and not to see that as a failure, was essential to getting through the preclinical years and rebuilding her confidence as a future physician.

Her Final Words of Wisdom: Redefine Your Success Beyond a Single Grade

Kelviyana says has seen many students panic over a C or B, as if one mark closes every door forever. Her view is different. A grade is important, but it’s still just one data point. It can show you where to adjust, but it does not get to define your worth.

She reminds students that many doctors did not have perfect transcripts. Some had lower grades and still made it to medical school and beyond. The key is resilience and honesty, not perfection.

Your future in medicine is shaped more by how you respond to setbacks and how true you stay to yourself than by one exam score.

Links:

Meded Media

Blueprint MCAT