At age three my daughter began complaining of pain in her legs and joints. Like most parents I turned to her doctors for reassurance. We were told: “It’s just growing pains, nothing to worry about.” My daughter would have bouts of pain free days and then bouts of excruciating pain, I remember the times where she would wake up screaming in pain. For about three years our little girl thrived and lived what we thought was a happy pain free life. At age nine, we soon realized that the pain had never gone away and had only gotten worse for her, our daughter had just grown so accustomed to it that it didn’t bother her, until one day she found herself screaming for our help. Her knees were so swollen she could barely move, after an ER visit and several specialist visits all her tests came back normal. At age 11 we basically lived in a cycle of uncertainty, emergency visit and frustration. My daughter’s symptoms came and went in waves, but her suffering was constant. I remember one day before going to work my daughter cried out that she could not see from her left eye. My thoughts immediately went to the worst case scenario, to this day that day continues to be one of the most terrifying moments of my life. After a week long hospitalization we learned that the inflammation had spread to her eye, causing temporary vision loss. Later that same week we finally received the diagnosis: juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. I remember sitting in the doctor's office, torn between relief and heartbreak. Those years changed me completely. I went from feeling powerless to becoming my daughter's fiercest advocate. All throughout I kept detailed notes of her symptoms, learned to navigate the healthcare system as a patient, and asked questions, lots of them.Through it all. I met nurses who became the anchors in our storm. They explained what each new medication was, comforted my daughter during painful procedures, and treated us with compassion when the weight of it all became too heavy. Their kindness reminded me that healing is not only physical but emotional as well. It was during those hospital stays, that I first began to see myself in their role. I admired the way nurses balanced science and empathy, precision and patience. I realized that nursing was more than a profession it was a calling, my calling. Caring for my daughter taught me the same lessons that form the foundation of nursing. I learned the empathy means truly listening, not just hearing. I discovered the importance of patience and clear communication. I learned how crucial advocating for patients needs is. As I pursue my nursing education, I carry those lesson with me every day. I want to be the kind of nurse who looks beyond the surface, who recognizes that behind every chart is a story, a family, and a person who needs to be believed. I would like to be the voice for the patients who cannot find the word to explain their pain, and a source of comfort for families who feel lost and overwhelmed. My daughter’s strength continues to inspire me, every day continues to be challenge for her, but she refuses to give up, she is resilient, and full of courage and hope. She is the reason my determination, the reason my passion in this profession. My daughter’s pain once made me feel helpless but it ultimately gave me purpose. Through nursing I hope to bring the same compassion, advocacy and care to others that so many nurses brought us.

My vision as a future nurse it to provide compassionate, patient-centered care that treat the whole person, not just the illness. I want to be nurse who listens deeply, advocate fearlessly and supports patient and their families through all the stages of their healthcare journey. Having walked beside my daughter through years of undiagnosed illness and complex treatments, I understand how vital it is for patients to have nurses who believe in them and fight for their well being. My mother who is a big influence in the way I treat my patients once told me “You’ll miss life if you’re always in a hurry.” My mother’s lessons have shaped not only my character but also my vision for my future career in nursing. Nursing requires more than clinical skills—it demands empathy, time, and the ability to truly listen. I’ve grown to understand that healing often begins with human connection—with taking a moment to hold a hand, listen to a story, or offer reassurance that someone still cares. Years later, I often find myself reflecting on the many lessons my mother gave me, and all the memories and experiences she created for me and my siblings. As a child and young adult, I couldn’t appreciate the importance of her words, but as an adult I understand them deeply. She is older now, and there are moments when I wish I could go back in time to enjoy more of those moments with her. Because of her, I now make a conscious effort every day to be fully present—with her, with my peers, and with my patients. In the future, I also hope to continue learning and growing as a nurse, expanding my skills in chronic illness care. I aspire to mentor other nurses, promote patient education and contribute to improving healthcare. My career in healthcare has always centered on geriatric care, and I want to continue working in long-term care or community health, where I can advocate for seniors’ dignity and well-being. My goal is to create an environment that reflects the compassion and patience my mother has always shown me—a place where every senior feels valued, heard, and understood.Ultimately, my vision is to be a nurse who not only provides excellent clinical care but also brings comfort, hope and trust tho her patients . I want my work to reflect the lessons I've learned from my mother and from the nurses who helped my daughter. I want my work to reflect kindness, resilience and the belief that healing begins with compassion.

For eleven years my daughter lived in pain. After years of misdiagnoses, years full of suffering, ER visits, hospitalization and doctors, my daughter was finally diagnosed with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. A disease that has no cure, a disease that caused her to be in so much pain that walking was not an option at times. With a name to her problem, we soon realized that treating this disease would just like diagnosing it, was also a guessing game. A guessing game to try and find what treatment would work for my daughter. I went from feeling powerless to becoming my daughter's fiercest advocate. Throughout her battle we spent countless nights in the hospital, we met nurses who became our anchors in our storm. They explained what each new medication meant, they comforted not only my daughter through painful procedures but myself as well. They treated us with compassion when the weight of everything was too much. Through their kindness I learned that healing is not only physical but emotional as well. It was during those hospital stays that I truly began to see myself in their role. I admired the way nurses balanced science and empathy, precision and patience. I realized that nursing was more than a profession it was a calling, my calling. Caring for my daughter taught me the same lessons that form the foundation of nursing. I learned that empathy means truly listening, not just hearing. I discovered the importance of patient and clear communication. I believe that living through this with my daughter, is what inspired me to pursue nursing. As I pursue continuing my nursing education, I carry those lesson with me every day. I want to be the kind of nurse who looks beyond the surface, who recognizes that behind every chart is a story, a family, and a person who needs to be believed. I would like to be the voice for the patients who cannot find the word to explain their pain, and a source of comfort for families who feel lost and overwhelmed. My career in healthcare has always centered on geriatric care, I started working as a CNA in high school, then a medical assistant working with older adult, and now as an LPN at a nursing and rehab center. As I continue with this profession, I want to continue working in long-term care or community health, where just like Cindy J. Visser, I can advocate for seniors’ dignity and well-being and create an environment that reflects the compassion and patience, a place where every senior feels valued, heard, and understood.

At age three my daughter began complaining of pain in her legs and joints. Like most parents I turned to her doctors for reassurance. We were told: “It’s just growing pains, nothing to worry about.” My daughter would have bouts of pain free days and then bouts of excruciating pain, I remember the times where she would wake up screaming in pain. For about three years our little girl thrived and lived what we thought was a happy pain free life. At age nine, we soon realized that the pain had never gone away and had only gotten worse for her, our daughter had just grown so accustomed to it that it didn’t bother her, until one day she found herself screaming for our help. Her knees were so swollen she could barely move, after an ER visit and several specialist visits all her tests came back normal. At age 11 we basically lived in a cycle of uncertainty, emergency visit and frustration. My daughter’s symptoms came and went in waves, but her suffering was constant. I remember one day before going to work my daughter cried out that she could not see from her left eye. My thoughts immediately went to the worst case scenario, to this day that day continues to be one of the most terrifying moments of my life. After a week long hospitalization we learned that the inflammation had spread to her eye, causing temporary vision loss. Later that same week we finally received the diagnosis: juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. I remember sitting in the doctor's office, torn between relief and heartbreak. Those years changed me completely. I went from feeling powerless to becoming my daughter's fiercest advocate. All throughout I kept detailed notes of her symptoms, learned to navigate the healthcare system as a patient, and asked questions, lots of them.Through it all. I met nurses who became the anchors in our storm. They explained what each new medication was, comforted my daughter during painful procedures, and treated us with compassion when the weight of it all became too heavy. Their kindness reminded me that healing is not only physical but emotional as well. It was during those hospital stays, that I first began to see myself in their role. I admired the way nurses balanced science and empathy, precision and patience. I realized that nursing was more than a profession it was a calling, my calling. Caring for my daughter taught me the same lessons that form the foundation of nursing. I learned the empathy means truly listening, not just hearing. I discovered the importance of patience and clear communication. I learned how crucial advocating for patients needs is. As I pursue my nursing education, I carry those lesson with me every day. I want to be the kind of nurse who looks beyond the surface, who recognizes that behind every chart is a story, a family, and a person who needs to be believed. I would like to be the voice for the patients who cannot find the word to explain their pain, and a source of comfort for families who feel lost and overwhelmed. My daughter’s strength continues to inspire me, every day continues to be challenge for her, but she refuses to give up, she is resilient, and full of courage and hope. She is the reason my determination, the reason my passion in this profession. My daughter’s pain once made me feel helpless but it ultimately gave me purpose. Through nursing I hope to bring the same compassion, advocacy and care to others that so many nurses brought us.