God has always provided me with a way to do the impossible.
Alex Anderson (MS ’25, PH) began regimented blood transfusions in high school. Shuffled into a packed transfusion room, separated only by a curtain from other patients and given two bags of blood intravenously, Anderson remembers how exhausted the treatment left him. The blood was cold and the needle hurt as it went in. Though, with time, the sensation became normalized, if not painless. It was a four-hour long process, prolonged by the nursing staff’s careful insistence on regulating how fast the blood went into his body, a necessity born of Anderson’s rare blood condition: Diamond-Blackfan Anemia (DBA).
“Essentially, my body doesn’t produce enough red blood cells,” Anderson explains with a wry smile. There are only two treatment options available for those with DBA—chronic blood transfusions or a consistent dose of a steroid called Prednisone—both of which have side effects such as iron overload and insomnia.
Even though all the children in the transfusion room were experiencing the same discomfort and needed support, they rarely interacted. It seemed to Anderson that while most people with chronic illnesses were treated physically, they were often left to fend off the emotional repercussions of their conditions alone. His time in the transfusion room impressed upon his mind the uniquely isolating nature of chronic illness and made him determined to bridge the gap and connect with those who shared his struggle.
This was not the first time Anderson had felt a deep empathy for those with chronic illnesses. As a child, he gave a beloved stuffed animal to a young girl forced to isolate after receiving a bone marrow transplant. As an adult, he attended a conference in New York and lent his support to an individual struggling to come to terms with the emotional fallout associated with their condition. Compassion is the essential tenet by which Anderson lives his life, and it is perhaps for this reason that, at first glance, you would never guess that he has been living with a chronic disease since infancy. Quick to smile, wonderfully articulate, and filled with an irresistible cheerfulness, Anderson has an energy about him that makes it easy to see how he manages to stay so focused on advocating for others.
“I want to speak for people who aren’t normally supported,” Anderson shares when asked how he plans to approach his goal. “I want to focus on research that deals with the social, psychological, and sociological impacts on the families and individuals who have rare conditions, as opposed to just the biological.” This is the reason Anderson chose to study public health. He plans on becoming a doctor and believes that by understanding the wider context of public health he will be able to implement a more holistic approach to healthcare—ensuring that all the patients under his care will be treated both physically and emotionally.
However, Anderson is not waiting until he finishes medical school to be an advocate. This past summer he worked in Washington D.C. with the American Enterprise Institute to improve child welfare policies, focusing on creating sustainable solutions for vulnerable populations. Building on this experience, during the fall semester he began working as a policy analyst intern for the National Organization for Rare Disorders, where he gained insights into the challenges faced by individuals with rare conditions and the importance of tailored healthcare policies. No matter where he goes, Anderson demonstrates his commitment to advocating for both systemic change and the personal well-being of those in need.
While Anderson’s dedication to his goals is unquestionably praiseworthy, he humbly attributes the successes he has experienced not to his own efforts, but to God’s guidance and support. “The hand of God has been in every aspect of my life,” he shares. “My condition makes it hard to concentrate on certain things. It makes me tired. It makes it hard to live a normal college life. But in the hard moments God has always provided me a way to do the impossible.”
Anderson cites his missionary service as evidence of this fact. Originally unsure whether or not serving a full-time mission would be possible for someone with his condition, Anderson got a blood transfusion right before he received his call. Miraculously, his blood count stayed at the levels they were post transfusion. Once he came home, his blood count went back down and treatment had to be resumed. “When I look back on something like that,” he says, “I see that God is very involved in the details of our lives.”
As Anderson reflects on his journey, from the long hours spent in a cold transfusion room to his current advocacy for those with rare conditions, he sees a life defined not by bitter challenges but by unfaltering resilience.
