I did not grow up physically disabled. When I was young, the part of my identity associated with hardship was always my mental health and family struggles, never the limitations of my body. It wasn't until a bit after I began university that the reality of my physical health became known to me, and only then did I have to contend with adapting my perception of myself to include physical disability. Not only that, but I had to adapt my way of living to accomodate for my new needs. My greatest passion in life has always been healthcare, and as such I planned on becoming a pediatrician. However, after achieving my CLA from WSU and working in an actual clinic, I began to realize the role wasn't quite meant for me. What I valued most as a healthcare provider was communication, patient education and advocacy, and forming real connections with my patients, and while that can be a part of being an MD, it's not the main focus. So, I finished my AAS in MLS and transferred to the University of Utah to study Human Development and Family Studies with an emphasis on Children's Healthcare and a minor in Disability Studies, on the pre-Occupational Therapy track. During this time of stress and change, I noticed a creeping fatigue and utter lack of motivation that I chalked up to a recurrent episode of my MDD. However, as time went on, it became clear that's not all it was. That lack of motivation combined with my worsening anemia - at that point, the only physical condition I was aware that I had, which was proving treatment-resistant - and then was compounded by the side effects of my psychiatric medication, producing a fatigue that was honestly quite terrifying. No matter what I did, I was exhausted. I felt like I was sleeping all the time and still tired. Waking up in the morning felt Herculean, and staying awake was even more so. I had to pull over while driving a number of times and nap in my car, because I was beginning to fall asleep at the wheel while on the freeway. To say that my schoolwork started to slip during this time would be an understatement. I have always been someone who prided herself on academic excellence, graduating high school with a 4.0 and almost all of my gen eds for college completed. I was terrified to turn something in late, or to do poorly on an exam, or heaven forbid have a missing assignment. So, coping now with falling behind and facing less than stellar grades was daunting. Everything was overwhelming, especially major assignments, and I felt as though I was moving underwater. On top of it all I was having month-long periods and bleeding out any iron I put in my body. Clearly, something needed to change. And it did! Through tests and scans we've determined I have anemia, endometriosis, and hypothyroidism, which have recently been medicated with multiple rounds of iron infusions, synthetic progesterone, and levothyroxine. I realized just how hard things had become for myself now that I finally felt somewhat better. I can wake up in the mornings and stay awake, I'm no longer in so much pain, and my motivation has returned. This experience has made me even more passionate about medicine, and I will always strive to be the most attentive, compassionate, and knowledgable member of a patient's care team that I can be, because I know how it feels to live in a body that's struggling and be at a loss for why.

I was five years old when my aunt began teaching me the basics of ASL, and six when I was able to have a conversation with a young Deaf boy who visited my kindergarten classroom with his mother. I was eight years old when I met my friend with Downs Syndrome and began going over to her house to play. And I was thirteen when I took my first peer tutoring class and officially found my purpose in life. At the time we weren't allowed to do much by way of actual tutoring, so my time was spent mostly befriending and learning from the students I met. However, as I grew older and more experienced, my role in peer tutoring became much more involved. I would modify assignments in mainstream classes to fit the needs of my students, assist students with mobility difficulties, and in one instance served as a makeshift translator for a nonverbal student who was trying out a new motorized wheelchair. I was fortunate to make a lot of amazing friends during my time as a peer tutor as well. I attended the graduation of two of my students, as well as the funeral of one amazing young man who I am eternally grateful to have gotten to know. And through it all I never wavered in the conviction I was struck with at thirteen: this is where I want to be. My ultimate goal, then, was to work in pediatrics. My greatest passions in healthcare have always been communication, patient education, advocacy, and forming real connections with my patients and their families. The only issue I faced was deciding what exactly I wanted my role to be. I had been a CNA and knew nursing wasn't what I wanted, and my time in the lab through MLS and my job at Ogden Clinic was enjoyable but not something I could see myself doing for the rest of my life. Working at various clinics also revealed that the life of an MD wasn't exactly for me either. And it was in this haze of uncertainty, of passion with no clear direction, that an emotional conversation with my girlfriend changed everything. Occupational Therapy. The more I read about it, listened to talks and podcasts, conversed with patients who had received it, the more I began to feel that Occupational Therapy was where I belonged. I was a peer tutor for six years straight and this career would allow me to continue doing everything I loved about it while also significantly increasing my knowledge and education, as well as my capacity to make a real difference in people's lives. So, I transferred schools once I received my AAS in Medical Laboratory Sciences and began to pursue a BS in Human Development and Family Studies with an emphasis in Children's Healthcare and a Minor in Disability Studies. What I want most of all is to make a difference in someone's life. To help a child find their voice and learn to advocate for themselves, to show a parent how successful their young one can be, to make healthcare a place where they feel safe and heard and understood in their care. I believe that anyone can communicate, verbally or not. I've had friends who communicate via AAC devices, buttons, picking choices - touching or squeezing the hand correlating to the option they want - and even blinking; every single one of them was able to communicate if they were just given the chance. And I want to give every child that chance. Thank you so much for considering my application!

My relationship with my Aunt Kathy is a fabulous example of a relationship that shaped who I am today; she was a rock in my life when I needed her the most. For brief but necessary context, I grew up in a small town in northern Utah where my dad also grew up, and as such we were only a five-minute drive away from my grandma’s house. Both of my dad's sisters - my aunts Kathy and Cristy - also lived there, as did my cousin. When my little brother and I were young we spent much of our time there, and even after my grandma passed away that house stayed in the family in possession of my aunts. With my Aunt Kathy specifically I was always incredibly close, and the time I spent with her at that pivotal stage in my life contributed to the values I have today. She introduced me to ASL and taught me the basics, regaled me with stories of her time working at Wide Horizons - a residential living center for adults with intellectual disabilities - and took me to feed the goats and ducks at our local pond. She taught me compassion, empathy, and hard work, and she instilled in me a sense of duty and care for all living things. When I was 7 years old my mom began drinking heavily, and three years later my dad died of a massive, unexpected heart attack. During this time – but especially after my dad passed and there were no other adults in the house to spare me the brunt of my mother’s alcoholism – my aunts were pillars of safety in my life. Even before the DCFS case that would give them full custody of me and my brother I would spend more time with them than at my own house, and my Aunt Kathy became the person I would call in an emergency. Whever I was scared, felt in danger, or otherwise just wanted to get us out of the house, I knew I could call Kathy and she would be there in a heartbeat. As I got older she and I spent more time just talking to each other, and she gave me room and grace to express every convoluted emotion I had about my situation. She didn’t treat me like I was too young or stupid to understand, and she saw how my forced maturity and parentification had both hurt me and become something I would cling to; I hated being seen as a little kid, and I wanted the respect of the adults around me to ensure they took me seriously when I expressed a way that I was in danger. Kathy understood me in a way that I didn’t think anyone else did, and she offered me endless comfort, advice, and support. I told her everything, from my struggles with body image and anorexia to my realization that I wasn’t straight. I remain so grateful for her influence in my life, and she’s one of the biggest role models in my life. I don’t know how I would have survived my childhood without her. Even after my mom got sober and reunification with her was possible, after moving farther and farther away from my hometown, I've stayed close with my Aunt Kathy and do anything I can to give back to and take care of her in the way she took care of me. Kathy always has been and remains a huge role model for me, and it's easy to see how her influence has shaped the woman I have become. It's because of her I began peer tutoring, which led to some of the most meaningful friendships of my life and introduced me to a world I knew I wanted to always be involved with. That I'm getting a minor in Disability Studies, am near fluent in ASL, and now plan on working as a Doctor of Pediatric Occupational Therapy serving children with disabilities is no suprise. She also taught me by example how to be an effective and empathetic listener, and I know now how to offer others the support my Aunt Kathy offered me. Her endless compassion, sound advice, and way of making you feel seen are traits I strive to embody with all other relationships in my life, from my patients at the clinics I work at to my relationship with my long-term girlfriend. Thank you for considering my application!

I was five years old when my aunt began teaching me the basics of ASL, and six when I was able to have a conversation with a young Deaf boy who visited my kindergarten classroom with his mother. I was eight years old when I met my friend with Downs Syndrome and began going over to her house to play. And I was thirteen when I took my first peer tutoring class and officially found my purpose in life. At the time we weren't allowed to do much by way of actual tutoring, so my time was spent mostly befriending and learning from the students I met. However, as I grew older and more experienced, my role in peer tutoring became much more involved. I would modify assignments in mainstream classes to fit the needs of my students, assist students with mobility difficulties, and in one instance served as a makeshift translator for a nonverbal student who was trying out a new motorized wheelchair. I was fortunate to make a lot of amazing friends during my time as a peer tutor as well. I attended the graduation of two of my students, as well as the funeral of one amazing young man who I am eternally grateful to have gotten to know. And through it all I never wavered in the conviction I was struck with at thirteen: this is where I want to be. My ultimate goal, then, was to become a pediatrician; ideally I wanted to be a specialist in treating complex cases and children with disabilities. Through my years of peer tutoring, obtaining my CNA license, and getting involved in HOSA my passion for medicine only grew. However, after becoming a CLA in my sophomore year of college and beginning to work in the lab for Ogden Clinic, I learned firsthand exactly what goes in to being a pediatrician. And it was here I realized that the MD route wasn't for me. My greatest passions in healthcare have always been communication, patient education and advocacy, and forming real connections with my patients, and though those things are certainly a part of being an MD the role just didn't seem to fit. On top of that I was struggling with mental health concerns, including adjusting to new medications and a more significant diagnosis. It was then, in the midst of a deep depression and sudden uncertainty about my future, that an emotional conversation with my girlfriend changed everything. Occupational Therapy. The more I read about it, listened to talks and podcasts, conversed with patients who had received it, the more I began to feel that Occupational Therapy was where I belonged. I was a peer tutor for six years straight and this career would allow me to continue doing everything I loved about it while also significantly increasing my knowledge and education, as well as my capacity to make a real difference in people's lives. So, I transferred schools once I received my AAS in Medical Laboratory Sciences and began to pursue a BS in Human Development and Family Studies with an emphasis in Children's Healthcare and a Minor in Disability Studies. This gives me two years of hard science and two years of soft science, with a diversified medical background to boot. What I want most of all is to make a difference in someone's life. To help a child find their voice and learn to advocate for themselves, to show a parent how sucessful their young one can be, to make healthcare a place where they feel safe and heard and understand their care. Thank You.