“Get dressed. Make up bed. Use the bathroom. Eat breakfast. Brush teeth. Hair. Shoes.” Before kindergarten, my mom and I made this “get ready list” to hang in my room. Making this list meant that I could get ready for school all on my own, giving me my first sense of independence. Every morning since, I have followed this same routine; these actions became habits ingrained within me. My list has grown to include skincare, vitamins, and a chai tea. By the time I started college, “exciting” was no longer my first choice of words to describe my morning routine. At most, these items were chores that cut into time I could be asleep. Then one day, I couldn’t get dressed. I couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t use the toilet. I couldn’t swallow breakfast. I couldn’t brush my teeth. I couldn’t do my hair. And I couldn’t put on my shoes. I was diagnosed with Guillain-Barre Syndrome on March 21, 2020. Not being able to feel my body, I went to the hospital, and by the end of the day, I was fully paralyzed from my neck down. Nothing moved. Everyone around me did, but I could not. I was stuck, frozen, and terrified. My days and nights in the ICU were filled with medications, IV-IG treatments, doctors, nurses, food through an NG tube, my parents holding my phone for me so I could FaceTime my friends, having my parents turn my head for me, and hearing about the outside world going into lockdown because of Covid. My world and the world were falling apart at the exact same time. After a few days in the ICU, a woman came into my hospital room and changed my life. She walked in with a red foam toothbrush gripper and said, “You are brushing your teeth today.” With much confidence, she put the toothbrush in the foam and placed my fingers around it. I was surprised that the foam and extra diameter allowed me to grip the toothbrush. I used the little amount of strength I had recovered to run the toothbrush back and forth across my teeth. I cannot put into words how much joy I felt being able to brush my teeth again. The excitement that I once felt at five years old flooded back over me as I held the toothbrush. This woman helped give me my independence back. This woman was an Occupational Therapist. This woman showed me my future. Before she left, I told her, “I’m going to be an OT too.” 3 years later, I was accepted into Georgia State's Doctorate Program of Occupational Therapy. As I have almost completed my first year, I am learning much of the foundational knowledge to become an OT and working as a graduate research assistant for stroke rehabilitation. I was accepted into the OT honors society, hold leadership positions, and provide therapy services to children at the Atlanta Children's Shelter through one of my fieldwork experiences. This scholarship would allow me to continue to fulfill my passion as a student and become an occupational therapist. I would also love to uphold the memory of Christina through my work as she did not have the opportunity to live out her dreams. Upon graduation, I want to find the resiliency in my patients and show them hope after their own accident, illness, or injury. While the healthcare team at the hospital kept me alive during my time in the ICU, the Occupational Therapists showed me how to live again. I hope to do the same.