Isbah Khan

When I think back on growing up in Billings, Montana, I remember long summer days spent riding bikes with my siblings through farmland and agricultural fields, exploring irrigation ditches, watching crops change with the seasons and treating the open spaces around us as our playground. Science didn’t feel distant or confined to a classroom — it was woven into the landscape around me and my family life.

My father worked in agricultural research, so the lab was a familiar place from an early age. I grew up visiting the greenhouse with my dad, asking questions about plants and genetics, and learning that science could be a way to understand and solve real-world problems. That early exposure sparked a curiosity that stayed with me.

In high school, I took anatomy and volunteered for credit at an agricultural research station, where I delved deeper into molecular biology, working on projects that explored herbicide-resistant weeds and plant genetics. I was fascinated, and the experience solidified my interest in experimental science.

I went on to pursue a bachelor’s degree in cell biology and neuroscience at Montana State University, where I continued researching plant pathology, focusing on wheat genetics and ways to help crops withstand harsher environmental conditions.

While I valued research, I was also drawn to medicine — the idea of translating what you learn in the lab into patient care. As the first in my family to consider a career in medicine, I found myself asking whether I would need both an MD and a PhD.

I decided to find out.

From plant science to patient care

After college, I joined the Penzo Lab at the National Institute of Mental Health in Bethesda, Maryland, shifting from plant pathology to neuroscience. I studied neural pathways related to motivational behaviors to further understand the neural circuitry underlying psychiatric disorders. There, I met a nuclear medicine radiologist who told me that an MD alone would still offer plenty of research opportunities. I realized that an MD offered the perfect balance of research and patient care.

MSU introduced me to the WWAMI program at the University of Washington School of Medicine, and I loved the idea of spending my first two years close to home before doing clinical rotations across different states. The variety of experiences caring for diverse patient populations across a range of healthcare settings really appealed to me.

I started rotations in Seattle with psychiatry, then family medicine at Madigan Army Medical Center and in Yakima, Washington. I traveled to Kalispell, Montana, for surgery and OB-GYN, and then came back to Seattle for internal medicine. The exposure to different hospital systems was something I couldn’t have gotten anywhere else, and across every rotation, the faculty were kind, welcoming and truly dedicated to teaching.

It was during my second year that I fell in love with immunology. That led me to my mentor, UW Medicine and Fred Hutch faculty member, Masumi Ueda Oshima, MD, MA, and her transplant biology research lab.

“I’m looking at hematology-oncology as a possible specialty. It’s a developing field with constant discoveries and new therapies, and it would let me keep doing both things I love: treating patients and pushing research forward.”

Research with long-term impact 

When a patient gets a stem cell transplant, the donor cells rebuild the body’s blood and immune systems from scratch. But sometimes that new immune system doesn’t recognize the body it now lives in and starts attacking it instead. This can cause graft-versus-host disease — rashes and even liver failure — which is a complication risk with transplantation.

Every time a cell divides, the telomeres (the protective caps at the ends of your chromosomes) get a little shorter. After a transplant, donor cells have to divide so rapidly to rebuild a whole new immune system that those caps can shorten much faster than they normally would. Dr. Oshima and I wanted to see what factors contributed to accelerated telomere shortening. Working with data spanning up to 45 years, we found that recipients consistently had shorter telomeres than their donors, with multiple factors like disease type, donor sex and conditioning therapy all playing a role.

I presented this research in 2025 at the Western Student and Resident Medical Research Forum in Carmel, California, and it won the Edwin E. Osgood Award for the top-scoring abstract. It was truly an honor, and it wouldn’t have been possible without Dr. Oshima.

I’m also involved in a pediatric oncology clinical trial program with Elizabeth Johnson, PhD, RN, at MSU. There isn’t an academic center in Montana where people can undergo clinical trials for new drugs and be safely managed, so they often have to fly out to larger hospitals for monitoring.

The program we’re working on is an app called Trial by Me for cancer patients to keep all their information available, so nothing gets lost between providers. If they need to go to the emergency room, the ER has access to specific information about the drug they’re on, including side effects and contraindications. And they can ping the principal investigator directly to get them involved. It’s really about improving communication and reducing risk for cancer patients in rural communities.

Why scholarship support matters

I’m honestly so grateful for the scholarships I’ve received, like the Donald G. Tembreull Endowed Scholarship Fund and the Odland Scholarship. As a first-generation physician, the financial support has made a real difference. It has let me focus on my passions without the constant background concern of financial stressors. It has also broadened my ability to fully engage in educational and research opportunities throughout my training.

I’ve been able to get experience in clinical trials and serving patients in rural communities, and I’m looking at hematology-oncology as a possible specialty. It’s a developing field with constant discoveries and new therapies, and it would let me keep doing both things I love: treating patients and pushing research forward.

Finances in med school tend to sit on the back burner. No one really talks about it until you’re finished and suddenly thinking about residency and how you’ll pay everything off. Just knowing that burden is a little lighter has been huge.

We already have so many stressors in medical school — having the financial piece lessened through scholarships makes it so much easier to keep going and pursue what you’re passionate about. I’m really thankful for the donors who make that possible.

As told to Nicole Beattie