From a young age I learned what it meant to depend on medicine and compassion. At nine years old I was diagnosed with hydrocephalus caused by a brain tumor and underwent emergency brain surgery to place a shunt. That experience taught me what it feels like to be vulnerable and to trust others with my life. During my recovery my grandmother brought me to volunteer at an animal shelter to help me heal in a different way. Being around animals brought me peace when nothing else could. That was when I knew I wanted to spend my life caring for them the way my doctors cared for me. Veterinary medicine has never been just a career choice to me. It is a purpose I have grown into. I have worked in general practice emergency medicine and neurology and assisted in more than three hundred brain and spinal surgeries. I now work as a Veterinary Technician Liaison in neurology where I support clients and patients through complex diagnoses and treatment plans. The journey has been financially demanding and academically intense but my commitment has never wavered. Through my work in neurology I have seen how powerful the partnership between veterinarians and ethical breeders can be. I believe purebred dogs are not the problem. The issue is when breeding ignores health. I support breeders who put welfare first. They use genetic testing screen for disease work closely with veterinarians and care about the lifelong well being of every dog they produce. One of the most meaningful examples in my career has been working with responsible Cavalier King Charles Spaniel breeders who are trying to reduce the prevalence of Chiari-like malformation and syringomyelia. These neurological conditions cause severe pain weakness and even paralysis. Instead of denying these problems the breeders I worked with sought help. They asked for MRI screenings before breeding consulted neurologists and removed affected dogs from their programs even when it was emotionally and financially hard. Their goal was not to produce more puppies. Their goal was to protect the future of the breed. That type of dedication reflects the kind of veterinary partnership I hope to continue. I have also seen the consequences when breeding is driven by profit rather than health. I have cared for French Bulldogs struggling to breathe Golden Retrievers with early cancer and German Shepherds who could barely stand. Experiences like these made me certain that veterinarians must be educators advocates and partners with ethical breeders. My goal is to become a veterinary neurologist who not only treats disease but also works to prevent it. I want to continue partnering with breeders who care about reducing inherited conditions especially neurological ones. Most of all I want to give animals and their families the same compassion and hope that once gave me a second chance at life.

Living with chronic illness has shaped my life in ways that are difficult to fully describe. It has brought fear and uncertainty, but it has also given me resilience, empathy, and a clear sense of purpose. My journey began when I was nine years old and diagnosed with hydrocephalus caused by a brain tumor. I still remember the severe headaches, tremors, and the way my balance slipped away as my condition worsened. Emergency brain surgery was necessary to place a shunt that would divert the excess fluid from my brain. While other children were learning multiplication tables, I was learning about neurosurgery, MRIs, and how suddenly life can change. As I grew older, my medical challenges only became more complex. I was diagnosed with chronic Lyme disease, Hashimoto’s disease, and chronic uveitis. These illnesses brought joint pain that made it hard to move, fatigue that made simple tasks feel impossible, and eye inflammation that threatened my vision. Some days, opening my eyes or standing up took more strength than most people ever see. I made a promise to myself that illness would influence my life, not control it. What pushed me forward was the compassion of the healthcare professionals who cared for me. They did more than manage symptoms. They sat with me when I was afraid, explained things patiently, and made me feel like I mattered. Their kindness inspired me to dedicate my life to medicine. Over time, my purpose became clearer. I chose veterinary medicine because animals cannot speak for themselves, yet they feel pain, fear, and hope just like we do. My goal is to become a veterinary neurologist and support families through the hardest moments, just as others once supported mine. Balancing chronic illness with higher education has never been easy. Brain fog from Hashimoto’s can make studying feel like thinking through fog. Lyme disease brings exhaustion and pain that appear without warning. Uveitis can make light unbearable and reading nearly impossible. But every exam I pass, every animal I help, and every family I comfort feels like a quiet triumph over everything that tried to stop me. These experiences have given me deep empathy for others fighting invisible battles. I want to use my story to advocate for better accessibility in education and healthcare and to remind others living with chronic illness that their dreams are still possible. Illness does not take away their worth or potential. What inspires me to work hard is the simple belief that I was given a second chance at life. I refuse to waste it. Chronic illness will always be part of my story, but it is not the part that defines me. I choose to be defined by perseverance, compassion, and the difference I hope to make in the world.

Love Island is built on romance, chaos, and emotional roulette, so my challenge, “Whispers in the Villa”, is designed to test trust, intuition, and temptation in a way the show has never done before. This challenge blends mystery and strategy with classic Love Island romance. Islanders are paired up, but they aren’t working with their partner, they’re working against them… without even knowing it. Before the challenge, Islanders are secretly interviewed one-on-one and asked personal questions about their relationships, hidden crushes, fears, and dealbreakers. Their answers are recorded in voiceovers. During the challenge, each Islander sits in the center of the firepit wearing headphones. A random voice recording is played. It might be a compliment, confession, insecurity, or secret… but the voice is anonymous. The Islander must decide (1) who said it, (2) whether it was about them, (3) whether they want to confront the person or keep it silent. If they guess correctly, they earn points for themselves and their couple. If they guess wrong, the person who did say it earns the point instead. At the end, the top-scoring couple wins a private sunrise getaway. The lowest-scoring couple faces a twist. The public votes if they should stay together, switch partners, or risk being dumped. This challenge forces Islanders to confront what they think they know about each other. It mixes vulnerability, betrayal, and intuition but in a quiet, psychological way instead of dancing or flirting. It exposes real feelings, fake loyalties, and who genuinely pays attention to their partner.

From a young age, my life has been shaped by both medicine and compassion. At nine years old, I was diagnosed with hydrocephalus caused by a slow-growing brain tumor. I underwent emergency surgery to place a shunt to divert excess cerebrospinal fluid. The outcome was uncertain, but what I remember most was not the fear, it was the kindness of the doctors and nurses. Their dedication during my most vulnerable moments shaped my life’s purpose and planted the seed of my desire to enter medicine. During my recovery, my grandmother brought me to volunteer at an animal shelter. Working with animals became a source of healing and joy, and it sparked the realization that I wanted to care not only for people, but also for animals and the families who love them. That was when I set my heart on veterinary medicine, despite knowing it would be challenging. Since then, I have pursued every opportunity to understand this profession more deeply. From mixed animal practice at a small-town clinic, to oncology at Purdue University, to finally finding my true calling in veterinary neurology at MedVet Chicago, I have seen both the beauty and heartbreak of medicine. In Chicago, I worked alongside four veterinary neurologists who each taught me different philosophies of care. As a neurosurgical assistant and later as a Doctor Coordinator, I stood at the intersection of science, surgery, and human connection—guiding families through fear, celebrating small victories, and staying long past my shifts to comfort patients recovering from brain and spinal surgery. Like Pinot’s veterinarian, Rocky Deutsch, I’ve learned that our profession extends far beyond diagnosing and treating illnesses. It is about honoring the bond between clients and their animals, especially when medicine can no longer offer a cure. I’ve held patients during their final breaths. I’ve watched families whisper "thank you" through tears. I’ve seen the quiet strength it takes to love an animal all the way to the end. These moments are difficult, but they are also sacred. They remind me why this work matters. My own survival and the resilience of patients and families I’ve served drives me to become more than a veterinarian who treats disease. I want to advance veterinary neurology, improve access to specialty care, and contribute to global One Health initiatives that unite animal, human, and environmental well-being. Most importantly, I want to be the kind of veterinarian who stays present in the hardest moments, the kind who sends flowers, writes the card, and makes families feel seen. This scholarship would support my education and honor the kind of doctor I aspire to be: skilled, compassionate, and unwaveringly devoted to both animals and the people who love them. The attached photo is me practicing an ultrasound on my 11-year-old soul dog, Blitz.

I called her Grandma Oso. Oso was her black Chow Chow, the dog she raised alongside me for most of my childhood. But more than her love for animals, what made her unforgettable was her ability to light up any room. She made people feel seen, valued, and loved, whether they were family, a friend, or a stranger in passing. In late November of 2024, I flew from San Diego to Fort Wayne to spend two weeks with her. I didn’t know it would be the last time I’d see her alive. Our roles reversed during that visit. The woman who once held my hands to steady my first steps now trusted me to care for her in her most vulnerable moments. She had myelofibrosis, a rare blood cancer, but she hid her pain behind laughter and pride. She was strong, independent, and her smile never revealed how much she hurt. Soon after, my fiancé and I got engaged (a moment she had been waiting for with so much excitement). She always dreamed of seeing me walk down the aisle. But when I flew back on December 29th to tell her in person, she passed as I was driving from the airport to the hospital. I didn’t make it in time to hear her voice one last time. Still, when I held her hand at her bedside, I thanked her for waiting for me. I promised that at my wedding, we would save a chair for her spirit. Losing her shattered me. She wasn’t just my grandmother, she was my teacher, protector, and safe place during difficult times growing up. Her home was where I could breathe. She taught me love through food and actions, guiding my hands through recipes that weren’t written down, only felt. Her life was a lesson in strength, grace, and giving more than you take. Her death became a turning point in my life. Grief could have broken me completely, but instead, it fueled my purpose. I chose to continue with veterinary school, even when grief made it hard to focus, study, or breathe some days. I chose to honor her by becoming the kind of person she believed I could be - kind, determined, and fearless in the face of hardship. Her loss taught me that love and grief exist together. That perseverance isn’t about being unaffected, it’s about moving forward despite the ache. I carry her legacy into everything I do: in the compassion I offer my patients and their families as a future veterinarian, in the meals I cook using her recipes, and in the future wedding chair I will leave open for her. I feel blessed to have had her for nearly thirty years, and even more blessed to carry her with me for the rest of my life. Losing her hurt deeply, but it also strengthened my drive to keep moving forward; to heal, to learn, and to make her proud.

My journey toward veterinary medicine began at nine years old. I was diagnosed with hydrocephalus caused by a benign brain tumor. Though the tumor could not be removed, a shunt surgery allowed me to recover and continue living a full life. The care, compassion, and dedication of the doctors and nurses who treated me left a lasting mark on me. That experience sparked my fascination with neurology and my desire to devote my life to medicine which would later merge with my love for animals. During my recovery, my grandmother encouraged me to volunteer with her at an animal shelter to focus on something positive. That experience lit a spark that grew into a lifelong passion for animal care. I sought every opportunity to explore the veterinary field. I worked in a mixed practice at Grabill Veterinary Clinic, attending Boiler Vet Camp to gain surgical experience, and later shadowing the Oncology and Radiation Oncology teams at Purdue University. Yet, it wasn’t until I joined the Neurology Department at MedVet Chicago that I discovered my true calling. Working alongside four veterinary neurologists, I had the privilege of assisting in a wide range of brain and spine surgeries, from complex tumor removals to spinal decompressions. Seeing these intricate procedures up close deepened my understanding of how neurological care can transform lives in both animal and human. As a neurosurgical assistant, I ensured that every surgical procedure ran smoothly, anticipating the needs of both surgeon and patient to promote the best possible outcomes. Later, as a Doctor Coordinator, I mentored new team members, supported families through emotionally challenging cases, and learned that medicine is as much about empathy as it is about precision. Not every neurological case has a happy ending. Witnessing pets fight bravely and families stand by them through uncertainty has given me a deep respect for the resilience that defines both animals and their owners. In many ways, Crosby’s story resonates strongly with me. His strength, kindness, and ability to bring comfort to others mirror the very qualities I aspire to embody as a veterinarian. Like Crosby, I hope to bring healing and hope wherever I go; whether that’s through clinical care, research, or community outreach. This fall, I began my first year at Michigan State University’s College of Veterinary Medicine. My goal is to specialize in veterinary neurology and neurosurgery, focusing on advancing diagnostic and treatment options for brain and spinal cord diseases in companion animals. I want to honor both the animals who have touched my life and the people who dedicate their lives to helping them. Receiving the Team Crosby Forever Scholarship would ease the financial burden of my education. It would also serve as a meaningful connection to Crosby’s legacy of love, resilience, and service. Through my work, I hope to carry that spirit forward, helping countless animals and their families find comfort, healing, and hope.

I’ve been a fan of Sabrina Carpenter for a long time, but over the years, my appreciation for her has grown. It started with Girl Meets World. I was drawn to Maya right away. She was sarcastic, guarded, funny, but also emotional. Sabrina played her with so much honesty that I saw parts of myself in her, especially during times when I was still figuring out who I was. That show made me notice her, but it was her music that made me truly connect with her. Her music feels like someone’s letting you read their journal. Songs like “Because I Liked a Boy” and “Skin” hit me hard because they speak to what it feels like to be judged or misunderstood. She tells the truth in a way that’s smart, emotional, and sometimes even funny. I’ve had moments in my life where I felt like I couldn’t explain myself, or like people had already made up their minds about who I was. Listening to her songs during those times made me feel seen, and a little less alone. One of the biggest reasons I admire Sabrina is how she handles everything that comes her way. She’s been compared, criticized, and underestimated so many times, but she always comes out stronger. Sabrina doesn’t let the noise stop her. She keeps creating, keeps growing, and somehow does it all while staying grounded and witty. That resilience has had a real impact on me. When I’ve faced challenges in school, work, and life, I’ve thought about how she pushes through and stays true to herself, and it’s helped me do the same. I also love how she doesn’t pretend to have it all together. She embraces both the confident and messy parts of herself, and she’s not afraid to be bold, soft, sarcastic, or emotional. That kind of authenticity is rare, and it’s something I try to carry with me in my own life. Sabrina’s taught me that being yourself, even when people don’t get it, is always worth it. Being a fan of hers has shown me that you don’t have to be perfect to be powerful. You can be vulnerable and strong. You can make mistakes and still grow. You can be underestimated and still rise. Sabrina Carpenter’s career has impacted me by reminding me to own my story, speak up, and embrace every version of myself, especially the one I used to hide. And honestly, I think that’s the kind of influence that lasts.

My first encounter with specialty medicine was at the age of nine. I vividly remember my mother rushing me to the emergency room due to severe tremors, an abnormal gait, and debilitating headaches. Following a brain MRI, the doctor informed us that immediate surgery was necessary. I was diagnosed with hydrocephalus, characterized by excess fluid on the brain, caused by a slow-growing tumor obstructing the fluid's path. Unfortunately, due to its location, the tumor could not be removed. Instead, a shunt was inserted to redirect the fluid from my brain into my abdomen. Witnessing the dedication of the nurses and doctors who cared for me during this time profoundly influenced my life's purpose, sparking my decision to pursue a career in medicine. During my recovery, my grandmother brought me in to work with her at an animal shelter to focus on something positive, which ignited my early interest in animals; however, I soon realized the challenges I would face in pursuing a professional career in veterinary medicine. Seeking exposure, I engaged in various jobs and volunteer opportunities within the veterinary field: at Grabill Veterinary Clinic, I gained insight into mixed practice; Boiler Vet Camp provided me with firsthand experience in surgery within a university setting; and working with Purdue's Oncology and Radiation Oncology teams offered me a glimpse into specialty medicine. However, it wasn't until I relocated from small-town Indiana to Chicago and joined the neurology team at MedVet Chicago that I truly discovered my calling. It was here that a dynamic triad comprising my own neurological issues, a curiosity for medicine, and a deep love for animals emerged. Under the guidance of four veterinary neurologists, I had the opportunity to learn from each, gaining insights into four different approaches to medicine. This experience fueled my desire to work in a specialty where I could fulfill a variety of roles. As a neurosurgical assistant, I ensured smooth surgical procedures and facilitated fast recovery times to provide optimal care to patients. Often extending beyond my scheduled shifts, my dedication was acknowledged, leading to my promotion from a non-certified veterinary technician to Doctor Coordinator. While supporting clients and patients, I also mentored new team members, refining my leadership and organizational skills and fostering a cohesive team environment. Through these experiences, I learned that not all neurological cases have positive outcomes. I consider myself fortunate, but I am also acutely aware of the emotional demands of this profession. Witnessing cases with promising outlooks take tragic turns has been both sobering and humbling. However, the resilience displayed by families who unite to do everything for their pets, with the unwavering support of the veterinary team, is nothing short of inspiring. It fuels my determination to contribute to advancing veterinary medicine and global health. To achieve this goal, I am committed to becoming a veterinarian. As a result of my perseverance, I have been accepted into Michigan State University's College of Veterinary Medicine. This fall, I will begin my first year as a veterinary student,

At the age of nine, I was diagnosed with hydrocephalus caused by a tectal glioma brain tumor blocking the flow of cerebrospinal fluid. I remember the fear in my mother’s eyes, the rush to the emergency room, and the sterile chill of the hospital as I was wheeled into surgery. That moment changed the trajectory of my life. While the tumor was not cancerous, the experience placed me alongside so many other children who battle brain conditions whose childhoods are interrupted by surgeries, uncertainty, and recovery. The physical pain was one part of it, but the aftermath lingered far beyond the scars. My cognitive processing was affected, leading to challenges in school that I didn’t fully understand at the time. I struggled in silence, often feeling behind my peers and unsure of my capabilities. I wasn’t told about accommodations that could support me. Yet, despite this, I pushed forward. What could have been the end of a dream instead became the root of my purpose. My experience as a pediatric brain tumor survivor inspired me to pursue a career in veterinary medicine, specifically in neurology. I know what it feels like to place your life in someone else’s hands, to endure the wait for answers, and to live with the uncertainty of a diagnosis. These experiences helped me empathize with others facing medical challenges. I want to bring that same level of understanding and compassion to the animal patients and families I serve. As a veterinary technician at a specialty hospital, I work directly with neurologists and neurosurgeons. I help guide clients through difficult diagnoses, treatment plans, and post-operative care. I see my younger self in so many of the patients we treat: the ones recovering from craniotomies, the ones relearning how to walk, and the ones whose families are hoping for just a little more time. I will be starting veterinary school in Fall 2025 with a mission to become a veterinary neurologist. I want to be a source of hope, just like the neurosurgeon who saved my life. My academic goals are to continue building on my education in veterinary science and neuroscience, while also advocating for inclusivity and mental health in medicine. My personal journey has given me a unique perspective that allows me to connect with clients and patients. Being a brain tumor survivor has never been a limitation. It’s been a constant reminder that I am capable of overcoming anything. It is the root of my perseverance, the source of my empathy, and the reason I continue to strive for excellence in all that I do.

In three years, I see myself practicing as a veterinary neurologist. My goal is to work in a specialty hospital where I can contribute to innovative, compassionate care, while also mentoring aspiring veterinarians and advocating for underserved communities. I am especially passionate about increasing accessibility to veterinary care and uplifting BIPOC voices in medicine. With a strong foundation in veterinary neurology and a commitment to empathy-driven care, I hope to be a leader who bridges the gap between complex medical treatment and human connection. A formative moment in my journey came during my time volunteering at PAWS Chicago, where I met a fearful dog named Rani. She had recently been brought in as a stray and exhibited classic signs of fear. She avoided eye contact, held her body rigid, and softly growled when approached. Many interpreted her behavior as aggression, but I recognized it as fear. I knew that in order to gain her trust, I needed to communicate in a way that respected her boundaries. Instead of approaching Rani directly, I sat at a distance with my body turned slightly away to reduce any perceived threat. I avoided eye contact and let her observe me in her own time. Slowly, she began to inch closer, sniffing the space around me. I offered her treats as positive reinforcement whenever she displayed calm behaviors, such as relaxing her posture or glancing in my direction. Over the course of several sessions, Rani's behavior began to shift and she would wag her tail tentatively and eventually allowed me to gently pet her. What stood out most in this experience was how Rani taught me the power of patience, empathy, and body language in veterinary care. She reminded me that animals are constantly communicating with us and we just have to listen with more than our ears. As someone who aspires to specialize in a field where many patients are non-verbal or neurologically impaired, these lessons in interpretation and trust-building are invaluable. Rani’s transformation left a strong impact on me. She was eventually adopted by a loving family, and knowing I played a role in helping her feel safe enough to make that transition is something I carry with pride. Her story fuels my passion for the human-animal bond and reminds me why I chose this path. Betsy V Brown’s dedication to animals and belief in nurturing future veterinarians resonates deeply with me. I hope to honor her legacy by continuing to serve animals with the same heart and purpose she exemplified, and by paying it forward to those who will follow in our footsteps.