During a volunteer trip to Guatemala in 2009, I was shocked to witness a man die while his family paced back and forth near me. His physicians, having exhausted their alternatives, were unable to treat the gunshot wound to his chest because they lacked medical supplies. The pain endured by the victim and his family haunted me, and I felt an obligation to help.

I grew up in a middle class family where resources were always accessible. After I witnessed the man’s death, I reflected for days and decided to start an organization to help the physicians receive a shipment of medical supplies. I couldn’t accept that some individuals had no access to basic healthcare while I was taking it for granted. Back in the US, a family-friend on the board of a local hospital showed me hospital closets full of surplus product - I was appalled.