On a beautiful November day of 2020, my 15-year-old daughter, Kata was enjoying the most beautiful time of her life. An active competitive swimmer since she was four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. Little did she know about the challenge of stepping on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct told me that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. In another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: an inoperable stage 4 soft-tissue cancer diagnosis. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often contemplated how to repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. This is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal for an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment. I hope to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day in 2020, my oldest child, Kata was fully enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. She was not aware that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming the race of her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or it was probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and I felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I wanted to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose. I want to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders and become the greatest milestone in my life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or it is probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and it felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my 15-year old daughter, Kata was just enjoying the most beautiful time of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. In another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: an inoperable stage 4 soft-tissue cancer diagnosis. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often contemplated how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. This is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal for an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment. I desire to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my 15-year old daughter, Kata was just enjoying the most beautiful time of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. In another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: an inoperable stage 4 soft-tissue cancer diagnosis. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often contemplated how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. This is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal for an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment. I desire to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer. My plan is to invest in our children's proper diagnosis with the most fitted preparedness I can accumulate throughout this educational journey.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my 15-year old daughter, Kata was just enjoying the most beautiful time of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. In another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: an inoperable stage 4 soft-tissue cancer diagnosis. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often contemplated how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. This is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal for an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment. I desire to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my only daughter, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. In another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: an inoperable stage 4 soft-tissue cancer diagnosis. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often contemplated how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. This is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal for an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment. I desire to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. In another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: an inoperable stage 4 soft-tissue cancer diagnosis. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often contemplated how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. This is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal for an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment. I desire to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or maybe the ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. I desire to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnose, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. I desire to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since she was four, dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental gut warned me that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis or a technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and sank to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often thought about how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to pursue a career in diagnostic imaging. The educator in me never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. I desire to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue Rhabdomyosarcoma. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming a Diagnostic Imaging Tech. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. I desire to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating and putting aside work, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

My name is Beata Gergely, and I was born in one of the most beautiful and sacred places on Earth: Transylvania, a magical place where my ancestors, the Szeklers settled in the 1200s. I left my family and country behind when in 2003 I decided to follow my husband who lived in the United States and settle in Florida. Since then I have been living here with my family. Throughout the years, my aspirations and dreams have consistently shifted and changed, until 2020. Without contemplating or planning on any drastic changes, on a sunny, beautiful November day, I was living and enjoying life. And life was beautiful. My oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. Physical pains were a normal addition to our lives, aches, and injuries were never out of sight. But one day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - two times consecutively. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence/ignorance- we may never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. With a question mark at the end: will she make it out alive? The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. The slow motion did not last long. Cancer was not waiting for us to wake up to our senses and then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

My financial situation was on the brink of collapse before I restarted my education. This scholarship will certainly add to the relief of the great burden caused by the educational expenses that I currently face and will also offer a boost in achieving my dreams of becoming the best medical diagnoser for sick children. On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24 hours, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer, so rare that Kata’s chances of survival were minimized to 3-4%. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the unnoticed tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to become an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

This is the true story of how a tiny woman inspired AND supported me on my education and career journey: On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

Hello, my name is Beata Gergely and I am first generation college student in my family. I was born in Romania, and I am a speaker of three languages, Hungarian, Romanian, and English. Being bilingual - trilingual in my case has no challenges but outstanding benefits. Over the years, I perfected thinking in three separate languages, contributing this way to a wider spectrum of using my brain capacities in my studies and life in general. On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

Without planning on any drastic life changes, on a sunny, beautiful November day, I was living and enjoying life. And life was beautiful. My oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. Physical pains were a normal addition to our lives, aches, and injuries were never out of sight. But one day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than most races cause. We ended up in the ER - two times consecutively. In another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. With a question mark at the end: will she make it out alive? The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. The slow motion did not last long. Cancer was not waiting for us to wake up to our senses. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something, hen, one day, it hit me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer. My ultimate goal is to give back to the very community that stood by our family: the pediatric hospital we lived in for more than 2 years. I want to be part of this wonderful group of dedicated people who are determined to save lives and be at the highest of their professionalism.

On a sunny, beautiful November day, I was living and enjoying life. And life was beautiful. My oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. Physical pain was a normal addition to our lives, aches and injuries were never out of sight. But one day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER but all we left with was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence/ignorance- we may never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. With a question mark at the end: will she make it out alive? The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. The slow motion did not last long. Cancer was not waiting for us to wake up to our senses. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. Our kindest, sweetest, most caring human partners were all the personnel at the hospital. Without kindness and patience, we would have never made it. So, this is my thank you. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something, hen, one day, it hit me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer. My ultimate goal is to give back to the very community that stood by our family: the pediatric hospital we lived in for more than 2 years. I want to be part of this wonderful group of dedicated people who are determined to save lives and be at the highest of their professionalism.

My name is Beata Gergely, and I was born in one of the most beautiful and sacred places on Earth: Transylvania, a magical place where my ancestors, the Szeklers settled in the 1200s. I left my family and country behind when in 2003 I decided to follow my husband who lived in the United States and settle in Florida. Since then I have been living here with my family. Throughout the years, my aspirations and dreams have consistently shifted and changed, until 2020. Without contemplating or planning on any drastic changes, on a sunny, beautiful November day, I was living and enjoying life. And life was beautiful. My oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. The slow motion did not last long. Cancer was not waiting for us to wake up to our senses. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Ginger, our Goldendoodle came as a Make-a-Wish for my sick daughter. She got her in the midst of her chemo and radiation treatment and Ginger received training as a service dog. Since then, she has been cherished and treated as the sweetest member of our family! Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer. My ultimate goal is to give back to the very community that stood by our family: the pediatric hospital we lived in for more than 2 years. I want to be part of this wonderful group of dedicated people who are determined to save lives and be at the highest of their professionalism.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. This is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal I have ever tried to achieve. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer. Outside school life, I also run a family life where my focus is on my three children age11, 17, and 18. They are the purpose of everything I live for. I also run a cleaning business and provide homemade meals for elderly friends. My list of priorities has school on the very top, working very hard to maintain or even increase my GPA in order to reach my goals. Leadership is critically important in my life. Despite the fact that I do not see myself as a leader, I do lead in many different ways while I try my best to keep myself in focus.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnosis. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I had to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

My story is not about me, but about the impact it had on my life and the way I perceived socioeconomic adversities in general. It certainly shifted my future plans into a new direction: On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

Forever BTS! They have made a tremendous impact on my life. They popped up just in time... I was introduced to this band by my daughter who by that time just turned 15. This is her story and BTS was with us all along... On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

The story of my daughter is just one out of thousands, maybe, but it changed my life, my perspective, and my goals forever - and it has to do with this fascinating field. Here is her story... On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Our cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also for those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also fot those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love but also fot those who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

Volunteering is second nature to us all. It only takes a moment to realize and feel the rush to offer support/guidance/assistance to others. Volunteering transforms people into better and does change one's mindset. I volunteered in Romania and Hungary for many years prior to moving to the United States. I assisted my environmental science teacher and mentor in endless projects involving her NGO. Why do I need this scholarship financially? Here is the story of how I ended up back in school and the reasons why: On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: to ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. This cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love and for people who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer. Thank you.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I would have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like me who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders, and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love and for people who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear down any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love and for people who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love and for people who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My cancer journey taught me the hard way how to stand up for people I love and for people who are experiencing hardship and difficulties in life. In the end, without even realizing how much I lead instead of being led, I was ready to tear any obstacle, break down every wall, and lead my child out of this nightmare called pediatric cancer.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. Going through pediatric cancer as a family changed it all. It showed me my hidden and strong sides. It taught me how to be compassionate, helpful, and resourceful at the same time. And I intend to use both to achieve my dream of becoming the best technician I could possibly be to be able to help others.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything. Going through pediatric cancer as a family changed it all. It showed me my hidden and strong sides. And I intend to use both to achieve my dream of becoming the best technician I could possibly be.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my family's shoulders and it would become the greatest milestone in my personal life. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything. Going through pediatric cancer as a family changed it all. It showed me my hidden and strong sides. And I intend to use both to achieve my dream of becoming the best technician I could possibly be.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything. Going through pediatric cancer as a family changed it all. It showed me my hidden and strong sides. And I intend to use both to achieve my dream of becoming the best technician I could possibly be.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I enrolled in sonography. My goal is simple: I must be the most prepared, knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. The technology of sonography would certainly make the discovery of tumors a critical tool in any phase.

On a sunny, beautiful November day in 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. Originally, I was an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are constantly designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I also enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking and baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything.

On a sunny, beautiful November day in 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. In the world of professions, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything.

In 2020, my oldest child (15), got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Inoperable. A competitive swimmer, she did what she knew best: racing; only this time was for her own life. With the treatments, ups-downs, and therapies, suddenly I found myself enrolled in school - the medical school of life. I went back to the beginnings when she was misdiagnosed and decided to become a sonographer. My future self will learn pediatric sonography and learn it well. This scholarship would take a tremendous burden off my shoulders, as the warning lights are still not off for our daughter. Never will.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything.

On a sunny, beautiful November day in 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything.

On a sunny, beautiful November day in 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything.

On a sunny, beautiful November day of 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything. Beata Gergely

On a sunny, beautiful November day in 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything. Beata Gergely

On this day, November 19th, 2020, my oldest child, Kata was just enjoying the 15th year of her life. An active competitive swimmer since the age of four, she was dedicated and focused on what she knew best: racing. What she did not know was that she was about to step on the block against her greatest enemy, swimming a race for her life. On this day, my parental instinct was telling us that something was awfully wrong: Kata was in too much pain, more than usual practices and races bring on. We ended up in the ER - for the second time. With faith and hope in the doctors, we were shooting for a solution to her pain, but what we got instead was a misdiagnose. Or probably an ultrasound technician's incompetence - we shall never know. But, in another 24-hour time, we got the answer to our worst nightmare: stage 4 soft-tissue cancer. Inoperable. The world, the heart, the mind, everything stopped in place for a fraction of time. Then we dove in. At first, I stumbled, I did nothing but stumble, hesitate, doubt, mumble, and panic, and felt like sinking to endless bottoms. But, as we moved on in treatments, ups-downs, therapies, and so much more, I found myself automatically enrolled in a school, more of a college I have never thought I would enroll in: the medical school of life. In my case, it was pediatric cancer. By profession, I am an elementary and language teacher, and I worked in my profession in Romania before moving to the United States. Learning, and reading, therefore, were second nature to me. During the process, I often found myself contemplating how I could repay all those who stood by us this entire time. I needed to find something. Then, one day, it finally occurred to me as I kept on going back to the root of the problem: the misdiagnosis, the ultrasound exam, and the misinterpreted two large tumors. Then, I decided that I have to do something about it. So, 28 years after graduating, I decided to enroll in becoming an ultrasound technician. My goal is simple and clear: I must ensure that I will be the best prepared, most knowledgeable, and most qualified for this profession. For an educator like myself who has never desired to work in a hospital environment and never intended to operate medical equipment, this is the greatest purpose, challenge, and goal. My desire is to work in the pediatric field and become a reliable professional. This scholarship would certainly take a tremendous burden off my and my family's shoulders, as I still care for our fragile daughter. My hobbies and interests are designed to be in relation to what I pursue and dream about. I am an avid reader and an eternal proofreader. But beyond these, I enjoy spending a fraction of my time riding my motorcycle or cooking-baking for my family. Nevertheless, being with my children though is my life, my hobby, my everything.