Sandra West ALS Foundation Scholarship

ALS is by far the worst thing to have happened to my family. It stole so much from us and took away my mom, Carrey Dewey. She was an angel even on earth but I know she is MY angel, forever watching over me. Losing her was excruciating, but watching ALS take over every aspect of her life, of our lives, was an indescribable feeling. Her journey with ALS has forever changed me. It changed me as a person, as a friend, and as a daughter. Most importantly, it changed my everyday life. I no longer have the person who brought me into this world by my side. I can't run to my mom when I need advice or somebody to cry to. ALS took her from me before she got to watch me grow up. My mom adored her role as a mom. It was her biggest accomplishment. I’ve always wanted to make her proud because I know if she were here, she would push me to be the best version of myself. She would encourage me to work for what I want, play fair, forgive, and trust the Lord's plan. Since she passed away, I’ve been hoping to find one decent thing to come out of ALS. Although nothing will ever take away the heartache, I have found peace in helping people. For years, I took care of my mom and it has inspired me to continue taking care of people who can’t take care of themselves. I want to be a voice for those who can't speak. I want to be the hands for those who can’t use their own. I want to help people the same way everyone helped my mom. I am honored to have had her in my life for the time I did. I am forever grateful to be her daughter. She used to tell me, “Even when you can’t see me or hear me, I will always be with you in your heart.” And I truly believe that she is. She has continuously watched over me even through the toughest times. This scholarship would have a huge impact on my college education. I want to make a difference in people’s lives. Many nurses and caregivers stayed by my mom’s side and I want to be that person for somebody else. My dad has always done his best to support me and my sibling’s goals. While he can contribute to my college expenses, having scholarships is crucial. It would help ensure that my dad can send all of us to college and take away the financial strain that has been put on him.

Watching someone you love slowly lose the ability to move, speak, and eventually breathe is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. My dad was diagnosed with ALS when I was still a kid, and ever since, life has looked a lot different than it used to. ALS doesn’t just change the person diagnosed—it changes the entire family. For me, being the child of a parent with ALS meant growing up fast, learning to live with uncertainty, and figuring out how to hold hope in one hand and heartbreak in the other. My dad has always been my hero—he’s strong, selfless, and someone who leads by example. When ALS began to take his strength away physically, it didn’t take away his spirit. He still smiled through the hard days. He still asked about my practices, my tests, my goals—even when he could no longer speak. Seeing that level of resilience made me want to work even harder in every part of my life, especially school. It became important to me that I succeed—not just for myself, but for him. I want to make him proud, to show him that the values he instilled in me—grit, kindness, determination—are alive in how I live my life. At times, though, balancing school, athletics, and caregiving responsibilities has been incredibly difficult. There have been moments when I felt overwhelmed, like I was carrying more than someone my age should. But even in those moments, I never gave up. I found strength in my routines, in the support of my teammates, in the quiet encouragement of teachers who knew what I was going through. And I kept going because I have a vision for the future—a future where I can build something meaningful, not in spite of my experiences, but because of them. Pursuing a college degree isn’t just a dream—it’s a necessity. I want to earn my Business Administration degree so I can open a swim club one day and use what I’ve learned to inspire and lead young athletes. I want to teach others that life’s hardest moments don’t have to define you—they can shape you into someone stronger and more compassionate. That’s the kind of coach, leader, and person I want to be. Financially, things have been tight. With my dad unable to work and the medical costs piling up over the years, our family has had to make a lot of sacrifices. College is a major investment, and I’m doing everything I can to carry my part—maintaining a 4.0 GPA, working when I can, and applying for every scholarship that could help lighten the load. Receiving this scholarship wouldn’t just help me financially—it would be a reminder that I’m not alone, that others believe in my future, too. This journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s made me who I am. And I’m ready to take all of it—the pain, the love, the lessons—and turn it into something powerful.

Saying I have been through trying times is a huge understatement. You see, my father was diagnosed with ALS 7.5 years ago. My dad has always been the one person on Earth I am closest to. When I was younger, he tried shielding me from how sick he was and how sick he would become. In our society, where technology is so readily available, it did not take long for me to discover the average lifespan for someone with ALS is 2-5 years. I do not think most kids have to live knowing their father will likely not be there when they graduate from high school. We start thinking about our wedding day as little girls. Unlike my peers though, I in high school often thought about how my dad would not be there to walk me down the isle. In addition to looking to the future, I have had to deal with the present. My dad is the most outgoing and athletic man I have ever known. Thanks to his influence, I am a runner. We used to run together almost every day. Ove time though, he has lost the ability to speak, use his arms and hands, dress himself, feed himself, sleep without assistance from a breathing machine, or walk without fear of falling and hitting his head. So yes, my experiences have definitely affected the way I see the world. They have at times made me angry and sad. I am ashamed to have at times hoped and prayed for a normal life. While I try helping him with feedings, getting dressed, and other things he needs, the truth of the matter though is that he helps me more than I help him. He has done that by somehow always staying positive and demonstrating a strong faith. He has taught me life does not always work out like you planned, but you have to focus on and celebrate the blessings in your life rather than allowing yourself to be drowned by the negative things experienced in life. If I am ever blessed to have a son, there is little doubt he will share my father’s name of David. Despite the cards life deals me, I hope to have a similar perspective on life and hope to teach him how to navigate it much the way my dad taught me. In regards to my educational future, I plan on majoring in Biology before moving on to study Physical Therapy at MUSC. My dad’s influence of physical activity certainly played a role in that decision. More so though is the indirect influence of watching his body decline. I saw how much physical therapy helped him I want to myself help once strong / healthy people regain some mobility, pride, and quality of life. When diagnosed with a terminal illnesses like ALS, you think about what is going to happen to your body, not being there for important moments, and death. What you do not initially think about is the negative financial impact it will have on your family. Truth is, my family currently spends over $20,000 a year on uncovered medical expenses to include medicine, hospital stays, medical appointments, equipment, tube feedings, etc. Very soon, my mom will be forced to hire and figure out how to pay for someone to sit with and care for my dad while she is at work. Figuring out how to pay for both medical expenses and college tuition is a huge stressor in my family. It is for those reasons that I thank you for your consideration of me for this scholarship.