Lai'la Harris is a recent NC State graduate with a degree in biological sciences and a concentration in zoology. She is pursuing a career in veterinary medicine with interests in wildlife and zoological medicine, conservation research, and animal welfare. She plans to pursue a D.V.M. followed by advanced training in zoological medicine.
Perspectives in Healthcare is brought to you by CareYaya, America's number one rated solution for in-home senior care, providing industry-leading quality care at the most affordable rates from over 50,000 students nationwide. CareYaya is known especially for delivering the most reliable and affordable overnight senior care and 24/7 care in many major metro areas including Atlanta, Boston, San Francisco, and Washington D.C.
In the pantheon of career-defining moments, few begin in the humble setting of an elderly woman's living room, amid the gentle chaos of two Labrador retrievers and the patient work of helping someone navigate the fog of dementia. Yet for Lai'la Harris, a recent graduate of NC State University with a degree in biological sciences, this is precisely where her transformation began.
Harris arrived at caregiving through a path familiar to many pre-health students: the practical need for clinical hours. She had set her sights on physician assistant school, and CareYaya offered a position that would fit around her demanding academic schedule. What seemed like a strategic checkbox on her medical school application became something far more profound.
The woman she cared for was in her early eighties, living with her daughter in a home that required constant vigilance and compassion. Dementia had stolen much from this woman, but not her need for dignity. Harris found herself in the intimate trenches of caregiving: reminders about the bathroom, assistance with hygiene, the preparation of meals. These were not the glamorous clinical rotations one might imagine, but rather the fundamental work of preserving human dignity when the mind begins to betray the body.
"I helped keep her environment clean and safe," Harris recalls with characteristic understatement. But the real work went deeper. While her client's daughter was at work, Harris became companion, supervisor, and advocate. She engaged her charge in the simple pleasures that could still penetrate the haze: television programs, walks with the dogs, arts and crafts. She baked with her. She painted her nails. These small acts of normalcy became anchors in a shifting world.
What distinguished Harris's approach was her recognition that distraction was not mere occupation but a form of care itself. Keeping her client calm meant understanding the emotional landscape of cognitive decline, reading the subtle signs of agitation before they bloomed into crisis. This required a particular kind of attention, a fusion of scientific observation and human empathy that would serve her well in any medical field.
The moment that crystallized her impact came not during a medical emergency or breakthrough, but over dinner. The family invited Harris to join them at their table, a gesture that transcended the professional boundary between caregiver and family. To be welcomed into their private world, to sit among them not as the hired help but as someone who had earned a place in their lives, marked a shift in how Harris understood her role.
"It meant a lot to be included outside of my usual caregiving role," she reflects. The invitation offered her a window into their family dynamic, the intricate web of relationships that her presence was supporting. More than that, it communicated appreciation in a way no paycheck could. She was not simply providing a service. She was caring for someone they loved.
Through more than a year of this work, Harris developed what she calls patience and empathy, though these words barely capture the depth of transformation she underwent. Caring for someone who cannot always express their needs, someone whose reality shifts and changes, someone who depends entirely on your vigilance, builds a particular kind of strength. It is the strength of the advocate, the translator between suffering and relief.
These experiences did something unexpected: they changed the trajectory of her career. The clinical hours she accumulated for PA school became something else entirely. They became a revelation about what kind of medicine she wanted to practice. "I realized how much I enjoyed providing hands-on care and supporting others who depend on me," Harris explains. The work shifted her focus toward veterinary medicine, a field where patients cannot speak their suffering, where the caregiver must read subtle signs and advocate fiercely.
The parallel between caring for a woman with dementia and treating animals is not superficial. Both require deep observation, infinite patience, and the ability to find meaning in wordless communication. Both demand that the caregiver become fluent in a language beyond speech. Harris saw in her work with elderly patients a preview of what drew her to animals: the challenge of helping those who cannot always articulate their needs.
Now, with her degree in biological sciences and a concentration in zoology, Harris has set her sights on veterinary medicine with a focus on wildlife and zoological medicine, conservation research, and animal welfare. She plans to pursue a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree, followed by advanced training in zoological medicine. It is an ambitious path, but then again, so was caring for someone through the long twilight of dementia.
Her advice to aspiring student caregivers carries the weight of earned wisdom: "It's okay not to have all the answers so knowing when to ask for help is part of being a good caregiver." This humility, this recognition that strength includes the courage to acknowledge limitation, speaks to a maturity forged in the daily practice of care.
Harris is half Black and Japanese, a heritage that perhaps prepared her for the work of bridging worlds, of translating between different ways of being and understanding.
In the years ahead, when Harris stands in a zoological setting, caring for animals whose welfare depends on her skill and advocacy, she will draw on lessons learned in a more modest arena. She will remember that healing is not always about cure, that sometimes the greatest medicine is presence, and that the privilege of caring for the vulnerable, whether human or animal, is not a burden to be endured but a calling to be honored.