top of page

Through Hardship to The Stars

Justin M. Camacho, MBA

MS1, Drexel University College of Medicine


I remember that crisp fall morning. The heat clung to me even as we walked into the industrial cool of New York-Presbyterian Hospital. I clutched my father's right hand and gently gripped my mother's left as we paced the corridors toward the oncologist; the smell of isopropyl alcohol overcame me. Little did I know, the resilient man I walked in with would not be walking out. At first, it seemed like a few days at the hospital, but those days turned into months—and that winter, on January 22, 2003, I saw my father for the last time. I sat by his bed in room 803-B. He looked at me with a resigned look in his eyes, and I knew it would be his last day with us. I acknowledge this day as the end of my childhood. Afterward, people often asked me, "Where's your dad?" Every time they asked, I invariably got a knot in my throat. But each time I gathered myself and gave the only answer I could: "he passed away." Over time, with each answer I gave, I realized that it wasn't just my dad who died that January; a piece of my mother and I died with him. Part of the heartache I felt came from knowing that my mother, who was always vibrant, had become listless. I recall looking at her through the crack of her bedroom door and not recognizing the woman weeping in silence on the edge of the bed. I tried to reassure her that it would be okay, even though I had no clue whether it would be. In those moments, I instilled hope in her even though I lacked any of my own—and I knew I had to take care of her in ways she couldn't take care of me.


In the fall of 2017, I began shadowing Dr. Christopher L. Johnson, a reconstructive plastic surgeon in the heart of NYC. One of the first patients we consulted had received a bilateral mastectomy after battling breast cancer. I remember her choked expression as we explained that she was a prime candidate for bilateral breast implants. We showed her a virtual image of what she would look like post-surgery, and tears came flooding as she exclaimed over and over, "I can be me again!" At that moment, I saw a future of instilling hope into others, just as Dr. Johnson did for his patients. Before this moment, I often found myself asking, "Why me? Why was I given this life?" And it was in that very moment as I watched her rock back and forth from the joy that I had found the answer to my questions.


As a gay Afro-Latino male, I have struggled my whole life trying to find my place in society, but with these identities, in conjunction with attending predominantly white institutions, I have struggled in particular with finding ways to get involved with the Latin community and essentially give back to those who suffer from the same or similar societal pressures that I have and continue to endure. As a prospective physician and current medical student, I have made it my duty to serve the Hispanic community and find innovative ways to highlight the Hispanic community. At the Drexel College of Medicine, I serve as the fundraising chair of the Latino Medical Student Association in which I cultivate insightful events in which serve to educate my peers on the trials and tribulations the Hispanic communities face whilst raising funds to donate back into the Hispanic community. As a physician, I hope to take my efforts in medical school a step forward and serve as a mentor to the Hispanic community in which I aim to develop a college relief fund for struggling Hispanic children. So, you see, the abrupt ending to my childhood devastated me, but my tragedy does not define me. My father's passing took pieces of me that I have yet to retrieve. But it is through his loss that I found the strength to become exactly who I want to be. It is the very struggles that I endured after his loss that have propelled me into the field of medicine, in an effort to restore hope in others. It is my will that has allowed me to pave my way to this point, and it is my very will that will pave my way to my life as Dr. Justin Michael Camacho.



About the author: Justin Camacho is currently a first-year medical student at Drexel University College of Medicine. He currently presides as the Co-President of the LMSA chapter at DUCOM and served as the former fundraising chair for the organization prior to his leadership transition. He has an extensive background in stem cell biology research, where he collaborated with his fellow post-graduate fellows to characterize the novel mechanism by which a class of nucleoporin proteins govern the transition between the germ-cell to the oocyte. Prior to his matriculation to medical school, Justin received his Masters of Business Administration with a concentration in Healthcare Management through an accelerated program while simultaneously working full-time as a STEM teacher for Success Academy Charter Schools. Justin aims to take his passions in the field of medicine and research to explore the ways in which we can reduce the healthcare disparities that exist within the Latinx community. Specifically, he would like to focus on advancing the reconstructive surgery outcomes for women who receive bilateral mastectomies as a result of breast cancer.




59 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Healer

bottom of page