Originally published by the American Osteopathic Association's The DO Magazine HERE

My dad taught me that laughter can be the best medicine, and in many ways, how to be the doctor I am today. Now, he will teach you.

Dr. Alyssa Cole Mixon with her father, Jim Mixon.

The three men in this world who never let me down: Ben & Jerry and my dad.

My dad always knew when to surprise me with my favorite flavors of Ben & Jerry’s. Whether I was going through a breakup, a board exam or a big deadline, he was there with ice cream and a spoon in hand. It was during these treasured moments, sometimes eating directly from the pint, that we would talk about anything and everything. As the ice cream softened with each scoop, I could feel my worries and fears melt away. They were replaced with a sense of resolve, a feeling of renewal and a state of readiness to face life’s challenges.

Little did I know the challenges life would bring. I thought the hardest day of my life was the day I learned my dad was diagnosed with dementia. I was wrong – the hardest day of my life was the day my father died. He was more than just my ice-cream-eating partner. He was a scientist, a musician and a loving father. He was a comedian, a world-traveler, an avid gardener, and my anchor to earth. He taught me how laughter can be the best medicine, and in many ways, how to be the doctor I am today. Now, he will teach you.

As a man of science, my dad will live on through science as his body was donated to the Virginia State Anatomical Program. This means he will train future physicians in the anatomy lab. He will be your best teacher and will help guide you through these next steps of your medical school journey. Please honor and respect his memory during each interaction with your body donor in the anatomy lab. In your future practice, acknowledge his contribution, and the collective contribution of those who donated their bodies every time you safely perform a surgical procedure, diagnose a problem on a physical exam or apply an osteopathic manipulation.

Allow me to tell you about my father, so he may continue to live on through the lives you save, the patients you treat and the discoveries you make.

My father always encouraged me to achieve my dreams, no matter how big they were. In elementary school, when I told him I wanted to be a princess, he built me a tree-fort “castle” in our backyard and said, “You already are a princess.” Years later, he reiterated this as he drove me through one of the worst snowstorms imaginable so I could compete in a local Miss America pageant. He said all I was missing was the crown and to go on stage and get it.

When I told him I wanted to be an Olympic figure skater at age 14, he signed me up for lessons. All my classmates were so much younger, they thought I was their coach. My dad said, “Someday you might be.”

In high school, he drove me home after a big test. I shared that, while I didn’t do as well as I had hoped, I scored higher than two-thirds of the class. He looked at me with disappointment, not because my grade wasn’t perfect, but because of how I attempted to validate it. He said, “Never compare yourself to others like that. You cannot improve yourself through others’ shortcomings. Tell me about the third of the class who scored higher than you. Look to them for guidance and success so you not only achieve it but pass it on to the rest.” It has stuck with me ever since.

Alyssa and her father at Alyssa’s high school graduation.

One of my father’s most memorable quotes was, “A lie can travel around the world faster than the time it takes truth to put its boots on.” With the current age of technology, social media and artificial intelligence, misinformation is rampant. His message continues to serve as a reminder for me to always seek the truth and speak the truth. In this and many other ways, he challenged me to be better, smarter, stronger and kinder.

While he challenged me, I also challenged him. I was constantly asking questions about life, politics, culture and history, wanting to learn more. If he didn’t have the answer, he would spend hours to days to weeks finding one for me.

When I told him I wanted to be a doctor, he joked, “Good, I’ll need one after raising you.”

In medical school, I shared with him my passion for anatomy, neurology and the osteopathic medical philosophy because it centers around the body’s ability to heal and rehabilitate itself. I told him how I wished there was a medical field where I could incorporate these disciplines. He said, “You’re talking about physiatry.” While I knew my dad worked as a medical researcher in neuroscience before I was born, I did not realize until that moment his research had been conducted under the direction of a physiatrist. This is the conversation that introduced me to my specialty of physical medicine and rehabilitation.

In residency, as dementia was rapidly taking my father away from me, every patient I saw reminded me of him. When I looked through a chart, I saw more than a diagnosis, a name or an age. I saw the person beyond the patient, their emotional struggles, their families, their lives at home and the challenges they faced.

When the doctors told me I could not heal my dad, I was devastated. The feeling of helplessness was agonizing. I struggled to accept that, despite all my medical training, resources, knowledge and advancements in science and technology, I could not cure my dad. I learned to channel my emotions into doing everything in my power to help others. This is what I strive to do every day at work. As an osteopathic physician, I found health in my father just as I do in my patients. As a physiatrist, I optimized his quality of life. And as a daughter, I told him how much I loved him.

I am so grateful he saw me not only graduate from medical school, residency and fellowship, but also become a board-certified physiatrist. It was one of the last accomplishments he observed before he passed away in January 2023.

Alyssa and her father at Alyssa’s medical school graduation, where she officially became Dr. Alyssa Cole Mixon.

I know my father is as proud of you as he is of me, and that he is committed to helping you succeed. He will live on through the knowledge he imparts to his physician students. He will forever help in expanding and contributing to our depth of scientific understanding as you, his students, work to help patients, save lives and cure diseases like the dementia he worked so hard to overcome.

It feels unreal to exist in a world where my father does not, but I believe his essence, the elemental forms that make up the human body, will remain in our galaxy for an infinite amount of time. The first law of thermodynamics states energy is neither created nor destroyed, which means his energy is all around us. Perhaps this energy may one day be converted into the Forget-Me-Not flowers planted every year during body donor remembrance ceremonies at medical schools around the world.

Someone told me grief is love with no place to go. As much as I wish I could share one more pint of Ben & Jerry’s with my dad, I am channeling that love into sharing his story, honoring his legacy and passing on his lessons and selfless contributions to you. So, when you find yourself in the anatomy lab, rest assured my father will not let you down. Use this opportunity to learn what you need to be the best physician you can be and continue to give back to others through medicine, laughter and, in the most special cases, ice cream.

#endless passion

Growing up, I used to tell my parents I was going to be a triple threat: an actress, singer, and dancer. I like to think I fulfilled many of those dreams and more, from blogging and social media to competing in Miss America pageants and talent shows. But I finally found my passion for working in healthcare.As much as I love STEM fields, I have never been able to separate art from science. I am a strong advocate for STEAM, adding arts to science, technology, engineering, and mathematics. There is no better profession than medicine to exemplify the need to integrate one with the other. It was Michelangelo who broke into crypts in order to study the anatomy of the human body. And the discovery of DNA’s structure came from Watson and Crick’s stick and ball model sculpture thanks to the woman behind it all, Rosalind Franklin, who captured the original image through X-ray crystallography.

Having earned a dual-degree in Classics (the study of Greek and Roman history, cultures, language, and mythology) and Biology, I am conditioned in using my “left brain,” described as logical, analytical, and objective in conjunction with my “right brain,” or the intuitive, thoughtful, and subjective side. This helped me not only in learning the medical terminology, the majority of which is Greek and Latin in etiology but also in patient care and being able to think outside the box. The path to becoming a doctor is not easy but it is worth it. Every day I get to meet new people, learn about different cultures, and listen to patients’ stories while improving their quality of life. My goal in writing this is to show you that choosing your future career should not limit you but rather inspire you to be creative, to explore, to grow, and to succeed. Just remember, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.

#dogmom

Life with Westley has been a series of adventures since the moment I picked him up from the rescue. When his “gotcha day” arrived, I was so focused on getting everything ready, I didn’t even realize I dropped my apartment keys on the ground before driving away. We got home, it was the dead of winter, and I remember my fingers freezing as I frantically searched for the keys…to no avail. My friend held Westley inside her coat to keep him warm. He was only about 12 lbs and he was shaking. I felt like I had failed at being a dog mom my very first day. But then the doorman let us in with a spare key and as soon as I introduced Westley to his new home, he immediately marked his territory. My friend and I burst out laughing. I realized nothing could have prepared me for being a dog mom and I just have to take everything in stride. He taught me to live in the present and embrace our strengths as well as our flaws.

Westley is as much a cheerleader as I am, especially in the morning. He is without fail a big ball of energy, so much so, many doubted he could be properly trained. However, after some extra puppy classes, Westley soon proved even our dog trainer wrong. He has learned not only the basics like sit, down, stay, and come but also advanced tricks like roll over, bow, fetch his leash or a specific toy, put away his toys, and so much more. We are currently working on speak buttons and so far, he has learned to say “Play” – his favorite (and only) word. His intelligence and determination (even if it is food motivated) taught me not to let anyone tell you that you cannot do something; be the “dogtor” of proving them wrong.

Speaking of his intelligence, he truly is a dog after my own heart because he, like his mom, knows the importance of respecting shoes. While he has chewed almost everything else I own, he has not once chewed a pair of shoes.

 Read the full feature HERE and be sure to check out VIVAIA - they even have an exclusive 20% off discount program that includes healthcare workers.