My favorite activities- camping, baking, crafting, and drinking a hot cup of coffee in the morning- seem to remind me of my Grandma Kathy and our times together. Hours and hours were spent in her basement sewing or in her camper making cookies from her spiral-bound recipe book, but those positive memories are bittersweet to say the least. When I was nine, my grandmother was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease or ALS. At the age of nine, I had no clue what those three letters meant for my Grandma Kathy or for our relationship. For her, her fine motor skills were affected exceptionally quickly. Not six months after her diagnosis, we were forced to stop sewing, camping, and baking together. It was explained to me as such: “She still really wants to do those things with you, but she can’t right now. Maybe we can try later.” Eating fresh cookies with recipes the spiral bound book became trips to Jewel Osco- a local grocery store- and the Great British Baking show. It is not to say that I didn’t enjoy these times with my grandmother, but they just weren’t the same. Sitting in an Uber on the way to Jewel seemed like a poor replacement for our warm pudgie pies and goofy stories around a campfire. The grocery store goodies and TV didn’t smell like lemon zest and they certainly didn’t taste like our favorite Jammie cookies. About ten months after her diagnosis, she had to get a feeding tube because she could no longer swallow properly or speak. Our morning ritual- drinking black coffee and watching the sun rise together- was ended indefinitely. At this point, I realized that “maybe we can try later” was not the correct sentiment. “Later” was not a given. It was then that our Jewel Osco trips also stopped. Our “replacement” for what we used to do was no longer feasible in either of our lives. Because of this, I began to feel livid. ALS stole valuable time and memories from me. I felt cheated. To me- it just wasn’t fair. My beautiful, goofy, and loving grandmother couldn’t even go to the grocery store or drink coffee with me. This anger I felt lasted past her death. Her death occurred due to complications from her feeding tube. I still feel resentment about ALS, and that’s okay. It’s been seven years, but it still hurts to be curious about what could’ve been. I strive to remember the goofy and sweet moments we spent together, but I can’t omit the impact ALS had on us. My grandmother only lived about a year after her diagnosis. It was quick, but not quick enough to not alter the way we lived. My anger though, is tempered by the fact that I know I can use the empathy I have learned through my Grandma Kathy’s experience. ALS showed me how hard medical conditions can be on patients and their families. I currently plan to attend medical school. In the future, I envision myself becoming a medical practitioner in a hospital setting. I am interested most in emergency medicine. I am interested in a hands-on medical career with the ability to practically apply knowledge while giving compassionate and meaningful care. Because of ALS, I will be able to give more comprehensive and empathetic care to patients and their families. To understate- my experience with ALS was not positive in the slightest, but I am cautiously optimistic that the skills it taught me will allow me to become a better practitioner and advocate for patients and their families.