It was sprinkling outside on September 1st, 2021. I remember because it was the day I decided to walk to school instead of drive my car for the first time since moving to my new apartment. I wanted to save on gas, and my college was right across the street. It was chilly that morning, but ordinary. I didn't walk very far before stopping at the intersection to wait and cross the street. Lot's of morning traffic buzzed by. I thought I saw something plowing towards me and turned my head to the left. That was when I was struck by a car. I was told the driver was impaired, after I was stabilized. The driver, traveling at least 30-35mph, did not stop to help and left me for dead in a drainage ditch. A bystander used his car as a blockade to keep him from going any farther down the road. When I woke up I assumed I was dead, and that is the last true thing I remembered from that day. Life went from ordinary, to unordinary, to unbearable, in the span of one morning. All because I decided to walk to school to save money on gas. Because of a decision I made. It ruminated with me during all of my hospital stay that week. It followed me home and lashed out at my parents with me when they tried to help me eat or use the bathroom. That decision came with me to all my doctor's appointments, the months of physical therapy I went through. I dreamed about it during both of my leg surgeries. At night, when I couldn't sleep through the pain, it sat on my chest and pressured me into thinking of things I would've regretted. Because of the decision I made that morning, on my own accord, I couldn't walk because of my broken leg, couldn't drive because of my broken pelvis and back, and couldn't do schoolwork because of my broken head. I couldn't see my boyfriend or my friends, couldn't go outside or walk in parking lots, on sidewalks, without paralyzing fear. I couldn't sue the man that almost killed me because of state technicalities. I couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't breathe. All of these couldn't's, and the only thing I could do was blame myself. Because to me, this decision was all my fault, and I deserved it. It got to a point where my body was getting better, but my brain was still suffering. I think the turning point was getting to the point where I could finally give my brain the spotlight that it needed in the very beginning. The want to get better was there, but I needed the push. Depression, PTSD, Anxiety disorder. Okay, now what? Now it was time to throw away the “couldn'ts” and pick up the “coulds”. I could stay in school with support. I could go to therapy, learn to go outside by myself again, learn how to walk down busy roads, parking lots, learn to cross the street again. I could focus on my breathing, work hard in physical therapy to walk without crutches or a limp. I could talk about things with my family. I could learn to love the new life and safely grieve the old one. I could breathe. I could forgive myself. I could realize the universe is chaotic, and none of what happened on that rainy morning was my fault. And you know what? I did do all those things, and I continue to do more every day.

My interest in nursing is deeply personal and shaped by a series of cascading, traumatic events that challenged me physically, emotionally, and academically. On September 1st, 2021, I was hit by a car that not only ran off the road but somehow hit me while I was standing on the sidewalk waiting to cross the street. The driver, traveling at least 30-35mph, did not stop to help and left myself and another student lying for dead in a drainage ditch. This event not only altered the course of my life, but also completely changed my way of thinking about the world. From that point on until Spring of 2022, I only had two goals in mind: Learn to walk again, and graduate on time. Recovery was painful and required another leg surgery to completely repair my knee. Due to my severe concussion, I was unable to read without feeling dizzy for a few months. My mom would help me read and highlight my textbook chapters and I would write what I needed for my assignments. When I wasn't in physical therapy, I was making sure to eat right, take mental breaks when needed, and dream of a life well past my accident. Not only did I graduate USF on time, but I received a 4.0 GPA in a semester where I nearly lost my life. I was working so hard during this time and in law school that I did not recognize the symptoms until it was dangerous. While in my legal internship in the summer of 2023, I noticed I would have what I now know of as "sleep attacks." They progressively got worse and recognizable by my boss, so every time I felt one coming on I would have to go to the bathroom and have a quick 5 minute nap and the feeling would go away. It got to the point where it would happen anywhere, even while driving, and I was unable to keep my job due to the extreme daytime sleepiness. It took nine months of testing and doctor's visits to finally reach the diagnosis: Secondary Narcolepsy due to the brain injury I suffered during my accident. I finally felt validated after so many professionals and family and friends told me that I was just stressed, or depressed, or that I needed to eat better or sleep better. Before the diagnosis I was sleeping up to 16 hours in a day, which kept me from doing much of anything after I quit my job. While Narcolepsy still affects me this present day, having the diagnosis has gotten me to a point where I am not just a bystander in my own life. I was able to redirect my studies into healthcare and was employed at Moffitt Cancer Center before resigning to complete an accelerated nursing program at my Alma Mater. Throughout these dark times, resiliency to me was something innate. I knew without working hard, I would be in a much darker place.

My interest in nursing is deeply personal and shaped by a series of cascading, traumatic events. On September 1st, 2021, I was hit by a car that not only ran off the road but somehow hit me while I was standing on the sidewalk waiting to cross the street. The driver, traveling at least 30-35mph, did not stop to help and left me for dead in a drainage ditch. From that point on until Spring of 2022, I only had two goals in mind: Learn to walk again, and graduate on time. Recovery was painful and required another leg surgery to completely repair my knee. When I wasn't in physical therapy, I was making sure to eat right, take mental breaks when needed, and dream of a life well past my accident. Not only did I graduate USF on time, but I received a 4.0 GPA in a semester where I nearly lost my life. After recovering almost fully from my accident, I continued with my original plan to attend law school and become a health law attorney. However, unfortunate circumstances somehow redirected my life a second time. At the end of my first semester, a week before finals, my boyfriend (now husband) of three years became gravely ill while we were in Nashville visiting a friend. He underwent emergency surgery to resolve a bowel obstruction and was officially diagnosed with a rare congenital intestinal malrotation. I did my final study preparations at his bedside before flying back to Stetson to take my exams. Christmas day comes and we were back in the hospital (this time at home). However, he was transported to Jupiter Medical Center 3 hours away, and then to Jackson Memorial Hospital a month later, where he would be staying long-term as some of the best medical professionals in the country attempted to figure out why he continued to wither away. My mental health was suffering, as I was working a full-time legal internship during the day, went to school at night, and spent my weekends driving from Tampa to Miami and back again to make sure my loved one was receiving the care he needed. Looking back on that year, I was already a nurse well before starting the journey to officially become one. The financial and emotional strain we were both experiencing led me to withdraw from law school to support us both. During this time, while grieving both his physical health and my mental health, I couldn’t help but notice just how much I was attracted to healthcare. Finishing a year of law school and completing an internship at a prestigious firm didn’t hold a candle to the excitement and awe I felt watching the nurses provide care to my loved one. I considered it my “calling”, and I was eager to go back to school once things were more stable to obtain my BSN. I am currently halfway through my accelerated second-degree BSN program that I started this past summer, and I am very excited to finally start working as a nurse. I worked as an oncology technician in Moffitt Cancer Center after leaving law school until starting my nursing program, and I will be applying there to work as an RN upon completing my degree. After facing the scarier side of the unknown, I can finally say that I have full confidence that the path I am on now is where I am meant to be. My husband and I are both happy and healthy, and it feels much easier to breathe now that we both have those years behind us. Part of becoming successful in this new career path was knowing when to take time for myself and relax, and I owe many thanks to my favorite hobbies and activities when I am stressed. When I am not studying, you can find me traversing the surrounding community on a geocaching treasure hunt in nearby parks, playing bingo on Tuesday nights with my grandma, hitting balls at the driving range, or even running around at the dog park with our two year old greyhound mix, Freya. It's difficult to think that many patients I have cared for and will care for might be starting their own unfortunate circumstances, where it feels like nothing will ever go right again. With the experience I have now, knowing that I am embedded in a profession to help someone get through their lowest points has assured me that I am on the right path.

Growing up, it seemed like the only thing the guys in my family talked about was their swing, or when they would schedule the next tee time. Hearing things like, "how's that new putter?" was normal at all the family events. There was even the coveted "Kiernan Cup", which was started by my grandfather. Every Wednesday, the winner of the round got to drink from this old Guinness chalace, and they would try to keep a winning streak so they wouldn't have to give it up to someone else the following Wednesday. It didn't occur to me how much golf was doing behind the scenes until I was in high school. I was playing competitive soccer at the time and was already planning on playing in college until I took a really hard hit to the head during a tournament in my junior year. MRI imaging showed nothing, but on the outside, it left me with a speech impediment that was not going away while in the hospital. Because of the severity of the head injury, I was forced to hang up my cleats. The stuttering speech eventually resolved after a few months, but every day of school before getting fixed was embarrassing and unbearable. I was a straight A student taking college-level courses, and it was obvious how different everyone looked at me. I became severely depressed due to the gaping hole soccer left after I was unable to play, and for months I was afraid I wouldn't feel the same without something competitive like that driving me on. I remember exactly when my fate changed when my grandfather offered to help me. He drove to my house, picked me up even when I protested, and drove me to the local driving range. That day, he taught me how to swing a club, putt from everywhere on the green, chip from the fringe, and how to be competitive in his sport. I didn't think you could be as competitive playing a sport your grandfather could play. When I asked him about it, he said that the toughest competitor he ever faces is himself. So with that, not only was I getting better than every previous day I went out with him on the course, but I was also competing against the anti-version of myself that had taken root inside my brain following my head injury. After learning the game, I noticed my grades got better, I finally looked forward to something after months of not wanting to leave my bedroom, and I was getting good enough to try out for the high school team. It truly is tough competing against yourself because when something goes wrong, you're simultaneously the problem and the solution. Golf saved my teenaged self, and in my senior year I was awarded golfer of the year on my varsity team. When golf followed me to college, it saved me again as a young adult. I was standing on the sidewalk waiting to cross the street when an impaired driver ran off the road and hit me. After working so hard to get good at my newfound sport, the possibility of never being able to play again stunned me. It took two separate knee surgeries and 12 months of physical therapy to fix me, and guess what that therapy entailed? A golf swing! I was back on the course 11 months later, after another tough battle. I thank golf for giving me my life back, twice, and I am always looking for ways to stay involved in the sport as I get older.

My interest in nursing is deeply personal and shaped by a series of cascading, traumatic events. On September 1st, 2021, I was hit by a car that not only ran off the road but somehow hit me while I was standing on the sidewalk waiting to cross the street. The driver, traveling at least 30-35mph, did not stop to help and left me for dead in a drainage ditch. From that point on until Spring of 2022, I only had two goals in mind: Learn to walk again, and graduate on time. Recovery was painful and required another leg surgery to completely repair my knee. When I wasn't in physical therapy, I was making sure to eat right, take mental breaks when needed, and dream of a life well past my accident. Not only did I graduate USF on time, but I received a 4.0 GPA in a semester where I nearly lost my life. After recovering almost fully from my accident, I continued with my original plan to attend law school and become a health law attorney. However, unfortunate circumstances somehow redirected my life a second time. At the end of my first semester, a week before finals, my boyfriend (now husband) of three years became gravely ill while we were in Nashville visiting a friend. He underwent emergency surgery to resolve a bowel obstruction and was officially diagnosed with a rare congenital intestinal malrotation. I did my final study preparations at his bedside before flying back to Stetson to take my exams. Christmas day comes and we were back in the hospital (this time at home). However, he was transported to Jupiter Medical Center 3 hours away, and then to Jackson Memorial Hospital a month later, where he would be staying long-term as some of the best medical professionals in the country attempted to figure out why he continued to wither away. My mental health was suffering, as I was working a full-time legal internship during the day, went to school at night, and spent my weekends driving from Tampa to Miami and back again to make sure my loved one was receiving the care he needed. Looking back on that year, I was already a nurse well before starting the journey to officially become one. The financial and emotional strain we were both experiencing led me to withdraw from law school to support us both. During this time, while grieving both his physical health and my mental health, I couldn’t help but notice just how much I was attracted to healthcare. Finishing a year of law school and completing an internship at a prestigious firm didn’t hold a candle to the excitement and awe I felt watching the nurses provide care to my loved one. I considered it my “calling”, and I was eager to go back to school once things were more stable to obtain my BSN. I am currently halfway through my accelerated second-degree BSN program that I started this past summer, and I am very excited to finally start working as a nurse. I worked as an oncology technician in Moffitt Cancer center after leaving law school until starting my nursing program, and I will be applying there to work as an RN upon completing my degree. My husband and I are both happy and healthy, and it feels much easier to breathe now that we both have those years behind us. After facing the scarier side of the unknown, I can finally say that I have full confidence that the path I am on now is where I am meant to be.