It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). From the age of 14 until the age of 18, I was a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. It's been almost two years since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need. In college and as a future nurse, I want to expand upon those experiences to impact how I view and contribute to the world in the future.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). From the age of 14 until the age of 18, I was a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. It's been almost two years since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need. In college, I want to expand upon those experiences to impact how I view and contribute to the world in the future.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. Through my involvement with AF and TAC, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA), a disease that helped inspire my professional goals. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. In the fall, I will study nursing at the University of South Carolina. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. After being diagnosed with JIA, I began volunteering with the Arthritis Foundation and BCH's Teen Advisory Committee. Through these involvements and my research, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

The crowd erupted, “Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!” This wasn’t a scene from a Hallmark movie. It was the finish line at the Arthritis Foundation’s Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR), a charity race where participants run in festive holiday costumes. JBR is the original festive race for charity and the signature Arthritis Foundation (AF) holiday event. After being diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA) at the age of ten, I was determined to learn everything I could about my disease and help myself and others like me. Volunteering with the AF was the ideal choice. Many people don’t realize that kids get arthritis, too. AF provides education, support, and programming to patients and families, funding for research to find a cure, advocacy, and training for healthcare professionals. The year after my diagnosis, my father and I decided to raise money for AF at the New York City Marathon. He ran, and I fundraised. Together, we raised over $6,000. Over the following years, I became more involved with AF, learning about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the JBR, where I raised an additional $5,000. For the last two years, I have been one of the Co-Chairs of JBR, raising $2,000 in my first year with a similar goal for this year’s race. Volunteering with AF has not been without challenges, but the lessons I learned have shaped who I am and who I want to become as a nurse. As the Youth Honoree and a Co-Chair of the JBR, I gained confidence by speaking to hundreds of people at events, in the media, and to sponsors about my experience with JIA. I learned perseverance by asking strangers for donations and became a more effective communicator through collaborating with adults and medical professionals while planning the JBR. Equally important, attending Catholic school from kindergarten through twelfth grade has profoundly shaped my character and career aspirations, significantly influencing my decision to pursue nursing. The values instilled in me during this time—compassion, service, and a deep sense of faith—have been integral to my journey and my desire to care for others, particularly those battling illnesses like Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis (JIA). In the Fall, I will study nursing at the University of South Carolina. My professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. Through my volunteering and personal research, I learned about the decline of rheumatologists and the need to bridge the care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. Utilizing nurse practitioners to provide front-line care is one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare. I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will fill a key role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting to ensure children have access to care regardless of where they live. My Catholic education has been a cornerstone of my life, providing a moral and ethical foundation that aligns perfectly with the nursing profession. The teachings of compassion, service, and faith emphasized throughout my years in Catholic school have driven me to help others and reinforced my commitment to nursing. Through my personal and academic journey, I have been prepared to face the challenges of nursing and make a meaningful impact in the lives of those I care for, guided by the principles of my faith.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA), a disease that helped inspire my professional goals. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. In the Fall, I will be attending the University of South Carolina to study nursing. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. After being diagnosed with JIA, I began volunteering with the Arthritis Foundation and BCH's Teen Advisory Committee. Through these involvements and my research, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA), a disease that helped inspire my professional goals. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. In the Fall, I will be attending the University of South Carolina to study nursing. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. After being diagnosed with JIA, I began volunteering with the Arthritis Foundation and BCH's Teen Advisory Committee. Through these involvements and my research, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA), a disease that helped inspire my professional goals. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. After being diagnosed with JIA, I began volunteering with the Arthritis Foundation and BCH's Teen Advisory Committee. Through these involvements and my research, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA), a disease that helped inspire my professional goals. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. After being diagnosed with JIA, I began volunteering with the Arthritis Foundation and BCH's Teen Advisory Committee. Through these involvements and my research, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA), a disease that helped inspire my professional goals. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. After being diagnosed with JIA, I began volunteering with the Arthritis Foundation and BCH's Teen Advisory Committee. Through these involvements and my research, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA), a disease that helped inspire my professional goals. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. After being diagnosed with JIA, I began volunteering with the Arthritis Foundation and BCH's Teen Advisory Committee. Through these involvements and my research, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA), a disease that helped inspire my professional goals. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. After being diagnosed with JIA, I began volunteering with the Arthritis Foundation and BCH's Teen Advisory Committee. Through these involvements and my research, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

The crowd erupted, “Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!” This wasn’t a scene from a Hallmark movie. It was the finish line at the Arthritis Foundation’s Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR), a charity race where participants are encouraged to run in their finest holiday costumes. JBR is the original festive race for charity and the signature Arthritis Foundation (AF) holiday event. After being diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA) at the age of ten, I was determined to learn everything I could about my disease and help myself and others like me. Volunteering with the AF was the ideal choice. Many people don’t realize that kids get arthritis, too. Not only does AF provide education about the various rheumatic diseases, but it also provides support and programming to patients and families, funding for research to find a cure, advocacy, and funding and training for physicians and other rheumatology healthcare professionals.   The year after my diagnosis, my father and I decided to raise money for AF at the New York City Marathon. He ran, and I fundraised. Together, we made a fantastic team and raised over $6,000. Over the following years, I became more involved with AF as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the JBR, where I raised an additional $5,000. For the last two years, I have been one of the Co-Chairs of JBR, raising $2,000 in my first year with a similar goal for this year's race.   Volunteering with AF has not been without its challenges, but the lessons I learned have helped to shape who I am and who I want to become as a future nurse practitioner and nurse faculty member. As the Youth Honoree and a Co-Chair of the JBR, I became more confident through speaking to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, media, other race teams, sponsors, and corporate teams about my experience growing up with JIA. I learned the value of perseverance by asking strangers for money while cold-calling countless people for donations. I became a more effective and mature communicator by collaborating with adults and medical professionals while planning the JBR.    In the fall, I will study nursing at the University of South Carolina. The lessons I learned through volunteering with AF will help me succeed and contribute to the campus community.  My experience as a Co-Chair of JBR and as a fundraiser will help me in a leadership role and as a volunteer. Finally, the perseverance I learned in overcoming challenges volunteering will help me stay balanced as I navigate my four years in college and my future career as a nurse practitioner and nurse faculty member.

The crowd erupted, “Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!” This wasn’t a scene from a Hallmark movie. It was the finish line at the Arthritis Foundation’s Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR), a charity race where participants are encouraged to run in their finest holiday costumes. JBR is the original festive race for charity and the signature Arthritis Foundation (AF) holiday event. After being diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA) at the age of ten, I was determined to learn everything I could about my disease and help myself and others like me. Volunteering with the AF was the ideal choice. Many people don’t realize that kids get arthritis, too. Not only does AF provide education about the various rheumatic diseases, but it also provides support and programming to patients and families, funding for research to find a cure, advocacy, and funding and training for physicians and other rheumatology healthcare professionals.   The year after my diagnosis, my father and I decided to raise money for AF at the New York City Marathon. He ran, and I fundraised. Together, we made a fantastic team and raised over $6,000. Over the following years, I became more involved with AF as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the JBR, where I raised an additional $5,000. For the last two years, I have been one of the Co-Chairs of JBR, raising $2,000 in my first year with a similar goal for this year's race.   Volunteering with AF has not been without its challenges, but the lessons I learned have helped to shape who I am and who I want to become as a future nurse practitioner and nurse faculty member. As the Youth Honoree and a Co-Chair of the JBR, I became more confident through speaking to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, media, other race teams, sponsors, and corporate teams about my experience growing up with JIA. I learned the value of perseverance by asking strangers for money while cold-calling countless people for donations. I became a more effective and mature communicator by collaborating with adults and medical professionals while planning the JBR.    In the fall, I will study nursing at the University of South Carolina. The lessons I learned through volunteering with AF will help me succeed and contribute to the campus community.  My experience as a Co-Chair of JBR and as a fundraiser will help me in a leadership role and as a volunteer. Finally, the perseverance I learned in overcoming challenges volunteering will help me stay balanced as I navigate my four years in college and my future career as a nurse practitioner and nurse faculty member.

Most people would complain about driving two hours each way to see their doctor. I am grateful. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA), a disease that helped inspire my professional goals. Fortunately, Boston Children’s Hospital (BCH) has a world-class pediatric rheumatology department. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. A 2015 American College of Rheumatology Workforce Study projected that the demand for rheumatologists will exceed the supply by 102 percent by 2030. This shortage is concerning, given the current need for more rheumatologists. According to a 2017 American Board of Pediatrics study, nine states had no pediatric rheumatologists, and six had only one. The lack of access to rheumatology care is even more pronounced in rural states such as West Virginia, Montana, and Wyoming, where there were no pediatric rheumatologists. The Arthritis Foundation found that only 25% of children with arthritis can see a pediatric rheumatologist. On average, families must travel 57 miles to treat face-to-face with a pediatric rheumatologist, which is twice the average distance to treat with other pediatric specialties. Adding to this crisis is a severe nursing shortage. A 2022 McKinsey report predicted that the nursing shortage could reach 450,000 nurses or 20% of the required nurses for patient care by 2025. I want to contribute to solving both problems. My first professional goal is to work as a nurse in pediatric rheumatology and earn my DNP to become a nurse practitioner. After being diagnosed with JIA, I began volunteering with the Arthritis Foundation and BCH's Teen Advisory Committee. Through these involvements and my research, I learned about the steady decline of rheumatologists and the urgent need to bridge the rheumatology care gap. As a nurse and nurse practitioner, I want to work in a clinical setting where I can provide direct care to pediatric rheumatology patients. As discussed in a 2017 Journal of the American Association of Nurse Practitioners article, one solution to the lack of rheumatology healthcare is to utilize nurse practitioners to provide front-line care because of their ability to prescribe biologics and other medications. Just as nurse practitioners have assumed a key role in primary care medicine, I am optimistic that nurse practitioners will eventually fill a similar role in rheumatology. Ideally, I would like to work in a rural setting that does not have the same access to rheumatology healthcare, ensuring that children have access to care regardless of where they live. After becoming a nurse practitioner, my second professional goal is to teach nursing at a college. During my infusions at BCH, I became close to a nurse practitioner who worked full-time at BCH and taught part-time at a local nursing school. When I told her I was interested in becoming a nurse, we spent countless hours discussing the profession and the nursing shortage crisis, specifically the lack of nursing faculty and preceptors to educate prospective nursing students. She helped me understand that a nurse’s role extends beyond patient care; it also involves ensuring sufficient nurses to provide that care. As a future nursing faculty member, I want to help expand access to nursing education and reduce the shortage of nurses.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, my knee swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and in pain. I was admitted to Boston Children's Hospital (BCH). I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the pounding of my heart from fear. I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis With Systemic Features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. My JIA makes life challenging because it's an invisible illness. I could be running on the field or handwriting an assignment without anyone knowing my joints and wrists hurt. At first, I saw myself as a lost cause, but then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. Over time, what began as a place for healing soon transitioned into a place for personal growth. Sitting in my chair, I signed up to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation (AF). I became more involved as I learned about JIA and the need for rheumatology health professionals. When I was fifteen, AF asked me to be the Youth Honoree for the Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run (JBR) and the following year to be one of the Co-Chairs. Giving speeches to hundreds of Pfizer employees at a kickoff event, and to runners, other volunteers, and doctors at the JBR, made me a more effective communicator. Cold-calling countless people for donations taught me perseverance. Participating in strategy sessions for JBR with adults and medical professionals made me quickly mature. I am so grateful for my time volunteering with AF. Sitting in my chair, I learned about BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC). Since I was fourteen, I have been a member of TAC, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the programs and practices affecting teen patients at BCH. Whether participating in Zoom strategy sessions with a sister hospital in Spain, advocating for legislation on Beacon Hill, or directly speaking to healthcare workers, being part of TAC has also helped me grow. My proudest accomplishment was collaborating with nurses at BCH's infusion center to minimize pediatric patients' fear of IVs, specifically ways to improve using J-Tips, hot packs, arm placement when inserting IVs, and band-aid removal. Even though I was only a patient with no medical training, the nurses implemented several suggestions. Like volunteering with AF, volunteering with TAC has taught me that I can be an impactful advocate regardless of my age and experience. Sitting in my chair has made me passionate about a career in nursing. Since I was ten, I had a front-row seat to watch each nurse care for their patients. My career goal is to work as a nurse, earn my MSN to become a nurse practitioner, and then earn my DNP so I can pursue a career in teaching or research. It's been almost one year since I last sat in my chair because I can self-inject my medication. My JIA does not define me, but it has matured, empowered, and inspired me to help others. Looking back, through my treatment and volunteer experiences, I have learned to be an effective advocate and communicator, persevere in the face of adversity, be grateful for every success, however small, and contribute to the communities that supported me during my time of need.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, I noticed my right knee was suddenly the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and painful. I was referred to BCH's Emergency Department. I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the procedures, countless tests, and my fear. After an admission at BCH, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis with Systemic features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. This was the day my life changed forever. I saw myself as a lost cause after several medications failed. But then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. My chair saw the highs and lows of my life; coming from a full school day, straight off the field hockey field and basketball courts, hysterically crying, laughing and celebrating birthdays. It took me a while to accept my diagnosis. My chair is where I experienced the spark of passion for my life’s mission. Looking back, I wouldn't change a thing. Sitting in that chair helped me to spread awareness about JIA, advocate for myself and others, fall in love with a future career, and grow closer to my grandparents. Sitting in my chair, I decided to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation. I have a different life than most kids. When looking at me, you might not guess that something is wrong. Most people don't know that kids get arthritis too. When I explain my disease to kids my age, I compare it to older people. I dislike constantly explaining JIA to people, but raising awareness is my mission in life. In 2017, my father ran, and I raised money for the Arthritis Foundation at the NYC Marathon. In 2021, I was the Youth Honoree for the Arthritis Foundation's Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run, and since 2022, I have been one of the Co-Chairs. To date, I have raised over $13,000.00 for the Arthritis Foundation. Sitting in my chair, I learned how to advocate for myself and others. I have served on BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC) for three years, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the quality and quantity of programs and practices that affect teen patients at BCH. Being a part of TAC has helped me embrace my JIA, knowing I am helping myself and others like me. Sitting in my chair, I fell in love with my future career. It gave me a front-row seat to watch every nurse's care and compassion for their patients. My biggest dream is to become a Nurse Practitioner and work in pediatrics. I can't thank my nurses enough, and I hope to pay it forward to other kids when I become a Nurse Practitioner. Sitting in my chair allowed me to grow closer to my grandparents. For years, my grandparents would drive me to my infusions. The time I spent with them in the car and sitting in my chair was priceless. I know they won't always be here, and I cherish the time we spent together and their selflessness. My JIA sometimes makes my life challenging because it's an "invisible illness." The time in my chair helped me understand that everything happens for a reason. I am grateful for my JIA and look forward to making a difference for kids in the future.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, I noticed my right knee was suddenly the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and painful. I was referred to BCH's Emergency Department. I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the procedures, countless tests, and my fear. After an admission at BCH, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis with Systemic features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. This was the day my life changed forever. I saw myself as a lost cause after several medications failed. But then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. My chair saw the highs and lows of my life; coming from a full school day, straight off the field hockey field and basketball courts, hysterically crying, laughing and celebrating birthdays. It took me a while to accept my diagnosis. My chair is where I experienced the spark of passion for my life’s mission. Looking back, I wouldn't change a thing. Sitting in that chair helped me to spread awareness about JIA, advocate for myself and others, fall in love with a future career, and grow closer to my grandparents. Sitting in my chair, I decided to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation. I have a different life than most kids. When looking at me, you might not guess that something is wrong. Most people don't know that kids get arthritis too. When I explain my disease to kids my age, I compare it to older people. I dislike constantly explaining JIA to people, but raising awareness is my mission in life. In 2017, my father ran, and I raised money for the Arthritis Foundation at the NYC Marathon. In 2021, I was the Youth Honoree for the Arthritis Foundation's Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run, and since 2022, I have been one of the Co-Chairs. To date, I have raised over $13,000.00 for the Arthritis Foundation. Sitting in my chair, I learned how to advocate for myself and others. I have served on BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC) for three years, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the quality and quantity of programs and practices that affect teen patients at BCH. Being a part of TAC has helped me embrace my JIA, knowing I am helping myself and others like me. Sitting in my chair, I fell in love with my future career. It gave me a front-row seat to watch every nurse's care and compassion for their patients. My biggest dream is to become a Nurse Practitioner and work in pediatrics. I can't thank my nurses enough, and I hope to pay it forward to other kids when I become a Nurse Practitioner. Sitting in my chair allowed me to grow closer to my grandparents. For years, my grandparents would drive me to my infusions. The time I spent with them in the car and sitting in my chair was priceless. I know they won't always be here, and I cherish the time we spent together and their selflessness. My JIA sometimes makes my life challenging because it's an "invisible illness." The time in my chair helped me understand that everything happens for a reason. I am grateful for my JIA and look forward to making a difference for kids in the future.

It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at Boston Children's Hospital's Infusion Center. When I was ten, I noticed my right knee was suddenly the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and painful. I was referred to BCH's Emergency Department. I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the procedures, countless tests, and my fear. After an admission at BCH, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis with Systemic features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. This was the day my life changed forever. I saw myself as a lost cause after several medications failed. But then I sat in my chair, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. My chair saw the highs and lows of my life; coming from a full school day, straight off the field hockey field and basketball courts, hysterically crying, laughing and celebrating birthdays. It took me a while to accept my diagnosis. My chair is where I experienced the spark of passion for my life’s mission. Looking back, I wouldn't change a thing. Sitting in that chair helped me to spread awareness about JIA, advocate for myself and others, fall in love with a future career, and grow closer to my grandparents. Sitting in my chair, I decided to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation. I have a different life than most kids. When looking at me, you might not guess that something is wrong. Most people don't know that kids get arthritis too. When I explain my disease to kids my age, I compare it to older people. I dislike constantly explaining JIA to people, but raising awareness is my mission in life. In 2017, my father ran, and I raised money for the Arthritis Foundation at the NYC Marathon. In 2021, I was the Youth Honoree for the Arthritis Foundation's Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run, and since 2022, I have been one of the Co-Chairs. To date, I have raised over $13,000.00 for the Arthritis Foundation. Sitting in my chair, I learned how to advocate for myself and others. I have served on BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC) for three years, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the quality and quantity of programs and practices that affect teen patients at BCH. Being a part of TAC has helped me embrace my JIA, knowing I am helping myself and others like me. Sitting in my chair, I fell in love with my future career. It gave me a front-row seat to watch every nurse's care and compassion for their patients. My biggest dream is to become a Nurse Practitioner and work in pediatrics. I can't thank my nurses enough, and I hope to pay it forward to other kids when I become a Nurse Practitioner. Sitting in my chair allowed me to grow closer to my grandparents. For years, my grandparents would drive me to my infusions. The time I spent with them in the car and sitting in my chair was priceless. I know they won't always be here, and I cherish the time we spent together and their selflessness. My JIA sometimes makes my life challenging because it's an "invisible illness." The time in my chair helped me understand that everything happens for a reason. I am grateful for my JIA and look forward to making a difference for kids in the future.

When I was ten, I noticed my right knee was suddenly the size of a grapefruit. Soon, my other knee, wrists, and ankles were swollen and painful. I was referred to Boston Childrens Hospital's Emergency Department. I still remember the pop of the J-Tip as I received my first IV, the procedures, countless tests, and my fear. After an admission at BCH, I was diagnosed with Polyarticular Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis with Systemic features (JIA). In basic terms, my immune system attacked my joints, causing them to swell from inflammation. This was the day my life changed forever. I saw myself as a lost cause after several medications failed. But then I sat in my chair. It may not look like much, but my chair was my "home away from home." It was a chair at BCH's Infusion Center, where I had two-hour IV infusions, every three weeks, for the next six years. My chair saw the highs and lows of my life; coming from a full school day, straight off the field hockey field and basketball courts, hysterically crying, laughing and celebrating birthdays. It took me a while to accept my diagnosis. My chair is where I experienced the spark of passion for my life’s mission. Looking back, I wouldn't change a thing. Sitting in that chair helped me to fall in love with a future career, spread awareness about JIA, advocate for myself and others, and grow closer to my grandparents. Sitting in my chair, I fell in love with my future career. It gave me a front-row seat to watch every nurse's care and compassion for their patients. My biggest dream is to become a Nurse Practitioner and work in pediatrics. I can't thank my nurses enough, and I hope to pay it forward to other kids when I become a Nurse Practitioner. Sitting in my chair, I decided to volunteer with the Arthritis Foundation. I have a different life than most kids. When looking at me, you might not guess that something is wrong. Most people don't know that kids get arthritis too. When I explain my disease to kids my age, I compare it to older people. I dislike constantly explaining JIA to people, but raising awareness is my mission in life. In 2017, my father ran, and I raised money for the Arthritis Foundation at the NYC Marathon. In 2021, I was the Youth Honoree for the Arthritis Foundation's Massachusetts Jingle Bell Run, and since 2022, I have been one of the Co-Chairs. To date, I have raised over $13,000.00 for the Arthritis Foundation. Sitting in my chair, I learned how to advocate for myself and others. I have served on BCH's Teen Advisory Committee (TAC) for three years, collaborating with staff and doctors to enhance the quality and quantity of programs and practices that affect teen patients at BCH. Being a part of TAC has helped me embrace my JIA, knowing I am helping myself and others like me. Sitting in my chair allowed me to grow closer to my grandparents. For years, my grandparents would drive me to my infusions. The time I spent with them in the car and sitting in my chair was priceless. I know they won't always be here, and I cherish the time we spent together and their selflessness. My JIA sometimes makes my life challenging because it's an "invisible illness." The time in my chair helped me understand that everything happens for a reason. I am grateful for my JIA and look forward to making a difference for kids in the future.