Since before I can remember and really started thinking about what I wanted to be, I knew this is what I wanted to spend my life doing. There is a drive I feel toward the nursing profession, and the rewarding feeling of knowing you helped someone. When I was 16 years old, I experienced first hand the influence a nurse has on their patients. When I was diagnosed with Acute-Lymphoblastic-Leukemia, I was flooded with the fears of my unforeseen future, and if I would even have one . The last nearly three years of my life I have spent a ridiculous amount of time in and out of hospitals, wondering if and when I would feel better and be okay again. My cancer treatment has sent me through a whirlwind of emotions. As most people do, I asked time and time again why me? For the first 6 months, I had been absolutely miserable, 76 to 91% of my cells were cancerous, I was barely making it. Statistics flowed through my head more than oxygen, the amount of blood I had was at 3.4 when it should have been 16. Test result after test result, I was a number, not a person. Just as my life was starting, I felt it was going to end. It actually almost did more than once. Survival mode was always on, preparing myself for the worst at any moment. I was fighting to keep going, careful as I can be, for “normal” was a risk. No matter how much rest I took, I was always tired, incapable of eating, and in so much pain. My skin was pale and yellow, filled with bruises and needle marks. My hair stuck to the shower walls. My reflection was unrecognizable to me in the bathroom mirror. My life was not my life anymore, not living but simply surviving, going through the motions, preparing to say goodbye. Death was what I saw right down the road. Thankfully, I am still here, and not every moment was agony. I thank my nurses for that. After so long, a hospital becomes a place of familiarity. A second home, quite literally. I do not think it is a coincidence that I ended up at the treatment center I did. The closest places capable of treating me were at capacity that day. Therefore I was transferred to Dayton Children’s and my treatment continues there today. It’s small, but the love, kindness, and generosity I have been shown there is tremendous. I can not tell you how many people have lifted me up when I did not have it in myself too, physically and mentally. There was always someone there for me, reassuring and giving what they could, when they could. There was always laughter, and smiles. Warm blankets. Tears caught. My experience with cancer and my immediate thoughts, are not how horrible it was, nor how I wish it hadn’t happened to me, but rather the pleasant memories I have gained from my experience. So no, I do not have awards and honors to tell you all about, I was not well enough to do sports, have energy for clubs, lots of interests, community service or activities over the last two and a half years. I do not have all of the typical requirements to show you how hard I worked. But I do have my story, and regardless of how I look on paper and if I have Steller straight A’s, I have worked hard, and I think that means something. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship. Kaitlin Lewis

Since before I can remember and really started thinking about what I wanted to be, I knew this is what I wanted to spend my life doing. There is a drive I feel toward the nursing profession, and the rewarding feeling of knowing you helped someone. When I was 16 years old, I experienced first hand the influence a nurse has on their patients. When I was diagnosed with Acute-Lymphoblastic-Leukemia, I was flooded with the fears of my unforeseen future, and if I would even have one . The last nearly three years of my life I have spent a ridiculous amount of time in and out of hospitals, wondering if and when I would feel better and be okay again. My cancer treatment has sent me through a whirlwind of emotions. As most people do, I asked time and time again why me? For the first 6 months, I had been absolutely miserable, 76 to 91% of my cells were cancerous, I was barely making it. Statistics flowed through my head more than oxygen, the amount of blood I had was at 3.4 when it should have been 16. Test result after test result, I was a number, not a person. Just as my life was starting, I felt it was going to end. It actually almost did more than once. Survival mode was always on, preparing myself for the worst at any moment. I was fighting to keep going, careful as I can be, for “normal” was a risk. No matter how much rest I took, I was always tired, incapable of eating, and in so much pain. My skin was pale and yellow, filled with bruises and needle marks. My hair stuck to the shower walls. My reflection was unrecognizable to me in the bathroom mirror. My life was not my life anymore, not living but simply surviving, going through the motions, preparing to say goodbye. Death was what I saw right down the road. Thankfully, I am still here, and not every moment was agony. I thank my nurses for that. After so long, a hospital becomes a place of familiarity. A second home, quite literally. I do not think it is a coincidence that I ended up at the treatment center I did. The closest places capable of treating me were at capacity that day. Therefore I was transferred to Dayton Children’s and my treatment continues there today. It’s small, but the love, kindness, and generosity I have been shown there is tremendous. I can not tell you how many people have lifted me up when I did not have it in myself too, physically and mentally. There was always someone there for me, reassuring and giving what they could, when they could. There was always laughter, and smiles. Warm blankets. Tears caught. My experience with cancer and my immediate thoughts, are not how horrible it was, nor how I wish it hadn’t happened to me, but rather the pleasant memories I have gained from my experience. So no, I do not have awards and honors to tell you all about, I was not well enough to do sports, have energy for clubs, lots of interests, community service or activities over the last two and a half years. I do not have all of the typical requirements to show you how hard I worked. But I do have my story, and regardless of how I look on paper and if I have Steller straight A’s, I have worked hard, and I think that means something. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship. Kaitlin Lewis