2) The "Inspiration" Question: I am honored to write an essay to celebrate Brian Moore’s legacy. Like him, I have been a patient and understand how passionate and kind medical professionals make a world of a difference. I have always wanted to be a doctor but being on the receiving end of care, more specifically in a children’s hospital, has made me firm in my choice. The compassionate doctors and nurses I have met over the years have impacted me deeply. Their empathy and understanding has made me feel more comfortable, and I deeply value these traits. I have dealt with the complexities of invisible illness since the start of my sophomore year. I suddenly began feeling weak and dizzy, having to quit my job and lacrosse. I still struggle day to day with attending school, walking long distances, and even standing. My attendance in school greatly changed, making it extremely hard to catch up and maintain my grades. As a young “fine-appearing” woman, I not only deal with academic and personal issues but with social ones as well. I’m accused of faking my pain as well as being brushed off by my friends. It’s hard to feel so misunderstood and disconnected from your peers, especially as a high schooler. Even through my struggle and isolation, I choose to use my recent experiences to my advantage. My illness has helped me build up strength, providing me with crucial traits to help understand my future patients. Over the years, I received diagnoses, medication, and a treatment plan. I have multiple illnesses: Orthostatic Intolerance, Amplified Musculoskeletal Pain Syndrome, and Von Willebrand Disease. While I am still struggling with my symptoms and meeting with new specialists, this understanding was very important to me, making me feel heard. More recently, I’ve been able to manage my illnesses better through medication, supplements, and physical therapy. I am now able to play the sport I love and work as a nanny. I forever appreciate and am inspired by the doctors on my care team. I am inspired by Brian and his medical team. I hope to become as skillful and compassionate as they are one day. In order to achieve my dreams I’ve maintained strong grades while joining honor societies, taking advanced classes, and earning early admission to college. Throughout my pain and hardship, I continue to push myself to become the doctor that the future generations cherish. I want to create a change in the world, and the medical field is doing it every day. I am determined to make a difference in my career, making sure people with cases like mine get the answers they deserve.

In recent years, I’ve developed and suffered from chronic illness. I struggle day to day with attending school, walking long distances, and even standing. I’m an occasional wheelchair user, I constantly feel watched and judged. My attendance greatly changed, making it extremely hard to catch up and maintain my grades. As a young seemingly “fine” woman, I not only deal with academic and personal issues but with social ones as well. I’m accused of faking my pain, being brushed off by my peers. It’s hard to feel so misunderstood and disconnected from your peers, especially as a high schooler. It all began during the end of my sophomore year. I began feeling weak and dizzy, having to quit my job and lacrosse. I was sent around the state trying to determine the cause, often hearing that I am a “healthy young girl.” I would get frustrated, feeling misunderstood and alone. After many tests, nothing stood out. During this time, it was extremely hard to maintain a positive attitude. It was almost like I had wanted them to find something wrong with me to prove it was real. Luckily, I found a few wonderful doctors providing me with the care I needed. I received answers: diagnoses, medication, and a treatment plan. I was told I have Von Willebrand Disease, Orthostatic Intolerance, and Amplified Muscular Pain Syndrome. Despite many obstacles, I’ve maintained strong grades while joining honor societies, taking advanced classes, and earning early admission to college. Throughout my pain and hardship, I continue to push myself to keep working in order to pursue my dream of becoming a doctor. Being a pediatric patient, more specifically in a children’s hospital, has made me firm in my career choice. I always have wanted to pursue medicine, but it was my illness that led me to pediatrics. The compassionate doctors and nurses I have met over the years have greatly impacted me. Their empathy and understanding has made me feel more comfortable, and I deeply value these traits. When I become a pediatrician, displaying these qualities will be key to my success. More recently, I’ve been able to manage my illnesses better through supplements and physical therapy. I am now able to play the sport I love and work as a nanny. While I still have hard days, I constantly strive to put my heart into everything I do. I continue to push myself to become the pediatrician the children in the future generations cherish. The one they feel safe with, who listens and never dismisses their concerns. The one with the “cool” office, not intimidating or scary. I want to create a change in the world, and the medical field is doing it every day. I can make a difference in my career, helping kids with cases like mine get the answers they deserve. However, furthering my education creates a lot of financial strain. I come from a middle-class family who is currently navigating the expenses having a chronic illness adds. In earning additional funds, I would be able to alleviate the burden my schooling will leave me and my family. It can help me with textbooks and housing, using it for the things that are often forgettable when considering financial aid.

I used to be the fastest racing car. I had a few dents, but I ignored them, still speeding around my track and driving endlessly. One day, my alignment started to become messed up. I couldn’t stay on the same straight racing path as all the other cars. The roads became blurry, and I couldn’t race as well. Warning lights kept popping up right in front of me, telling me I should slow down and take a break from my races. Slowly, I began to run out of gas. I realized that no matter how much fuel was put into me, nothing could make me the fastest racing car again. I pushed myself continuously, with other cars telling me I just had to be better and that I wasn’t trying hard enough. That made me push myself harder than I ever had in my entire life. Even with all my dents and messed-up alignment, I was still fighting to be that same racing car I had always been for the past 15 years of my life. That was, until my tires began to fall flat, and the swerving made it so I couldn’t race anymore. I needed something to lean on, but racing cars can’t have a crutch to support them. I, the fastest racing car, became useless. No one wanted a dented, sick car. I was cursed to forever sit on the sidelines, longing to join the other cars on the track. I felt so alone. What good is a car that cannot drive? Why couldn’t I drive? Why couldn’t I be a normal car like the rest of them? It was so frustrating to see the shift from speeding down the road to breaking down after driving even the shortest distance. Most days, I found it hard to even leave my driveway without running out of gas. All the other cars tried to push me when I broke down, but my engine was sputtering and gasping for air. I was being towed all around the state to different mechanics, trying to diagnose what was wrong with my engine. No one seemed to figure out what exactly was wrong, even though so many diagnostic tests were run. In the middle of Miami, I found the best mechanic I had ever been to. This mechanic made me feel comfortable and understood all of the symptoms I had described. After all those diagnostic tests, they gave me a diagnosis, and I was ready to drive again. Except, it wasn’t that easy. The mechanic gave me things to manage the symptoms, but sometimes I still need my crutch. I wanted to be a racing car again. I wanted to have a purpose. When I was beginning to give up, I found the best pit crew back at home to always support me and help me feel better. My pit crew bandaged me up until my brokenness was somewhat healed. Without the pressure of being the fastest racing car, I found my forever support system within my pit crew and countless mechanics. Slowly, I began to drive those short distances. The roads were still challenging, and my tires were still going flat, but I was determined. I wanted to go see the other cars. Watching them race was still so enjoyable. Supporting the other cars on the sideline became my distraction. I found other cars around me experiencing similar issues, and I didn’t feel as alone anymore. I am still a racing car, and I’ll be back to my race track with my team members as soon as I can.