Finding Life After Tennis
The rubber on my soles is melting like chocolate in the microwave, a bead of sweat runs off my forehead and sizzles on the blue concrete. There is no one around, no parents, no referees, no fans – only two boys fighting against the Indian Wells sun and each other. I toss the ball, hit an ace and win the match! Is that Pete Sampras looking at me approvingly from a huge “Past Champs” billboard? “Watch out Pete! I’m going to take your place in the Hall of Fame.” Life is good on the court and even better off the court with straight A’s in the #2 public high school in California. I am unstoppable!
The Hall of Fame plan started to fade in the middle of my sophomore year. Debilitating waves of headaches and nausea practically moved me from the classroom to the doctor’s office. Within two months, my straight A’s slipped to B’s, then C’s, even a couple of D’s! Doctors were confused — they suspected allergies, malabsorption and diseases with Latin names longer than the word limit for this personal statement.
While my doctors searched for a diagnosis, I learned to deal with my headaches and fatigue. I felt awful, but became a better player, student, and person. In anticipation of getting sick, I studied ahead. I put myself on a strict regimen of sleep and food-intake. C’s became B’s and B’s were replaced by A’s. I perfected my tennis serve so that I could expend less energy in tournaments. I matured into an organized, persevering, appreciative, and astute problem solver.
With my tennis career in jeopardy, I transitioned to plan B. Over the next two years, I soldered with the Robotics Club, researched at a NASA Internship, globalized in a trade company in Poland, financed at a venture capital firm in LA, and traded in the Investment Club. All fun, but not thrilling enough to devote to the remaining 70,000 working hours of my life.
It took months before doctors announced the verdict: Crohn’s Disease – my body treated food like it was a virus. Next came trials of new medications, each with highly entertaining side effects. I dropped two of four AP classes before they found a drug that kicked my Crohn’s butt. My health improved and I only infrequently, had days when I felt like I had run a triathlon followed by taking the SAT.
Long hours in hospitals exposed the many things wrong with health care. Doctors lost data, tests were late, night shifts had sleepy interns, allergists did not communicate with pediatricians who did not share diagnosis with internists. Every hospital visit brought new questions: “Why does my biologics injection costs $6,000? Who is paying for it? Who should be paying for it? Could it cost $6?”
One day while in a semi-private room at LA Children’s Hospital, I realized that some of the smartest doctors cannot answer these questions – money, motivation, supply, demand — we need economists! My calling was right there in front of me: “I have to study the economics of health care!” This revelation was clarifying. I became more optimistic and open to new possibilities. A renewed player on the court, I smiled at my opponents, congratulated them if they won and appreciated the fact that I could physically compete. I learned about myself through trying new things without the need to believe I would be successful. I was happy to experience life more fully. I love going outside of my comfort zone; in fact, living outside of my comfort is now my new comfort zone!
I no longer have dreams about replacing Pete Sampras in the Tennis Hall of Fame. Instead, I hope that in a few years Pete will cure his chronic tennis elbow under a new efficient health care program designed by a young economist–a former junior tennis star.