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"How has your journey with CF shaped the problems you want to solve and the impact you hope to have on others?"

While my journey with CF has had its ups and downs, my memories of going blazing fast while scootering down a sterile hospital hallway are vivid. The feeling of being a normal kid while getting a break from the numerous machines I was connected to was freeing and gave me a glimmer of hope. Even though I spent two weeks in the hospital, which felt like a lifetime, I can now confirm one thing: I would not trade those memories for the world. While part of those memories may be facing the daunting task of stepping foot into the hospital room, not knowing when I was leaving, or changing into an itchy gown, I still cherish those memories. Wondering why I was the one struggling with medical difficulties was often a recurring thought when all I wanted was to be a normal kid. Instead, I met with countless staff who were all intrigued by my growing health concerns. My ability to understand what was going on was alarming - I knew I was sick. Treatments in the middle of the night. Pokes and prods to my arm. Countless tests and screenings. These each took a small yet powerful toll on my developing mind and that's when it struck me that changing my reality was going to be a challenge. That was until I felt the wind blowing in my face and hair as I zoomed through the hospital on my Razor scooter with my physical therapist by my side, and my wheels rolling on the glossy tile flooring throughout the continuous halls. My body was trapped in the dooming hospital but my mind was drifting away to the feeling of freedom on my Razor scooter. It was in that short yet everlasting period I was able to feel free. I was free from my small brain overwhelmed with worry, and best of all, from my Cystic Fibrosis. Getting a distraction from the difficult time in my life was true medicine. My mind, body, and soul were captivated by such a simple yet life-changing task. From that point on, I knew that my life might be challenging, but not only was I ready; I also acknowledged that I wanted to give people the same optimistic feeling that my physical therapist had given me. The hard work, determination, and resilience those two weeks in the hospital gave me will last a lifetime. A lifetime where I can assure people I will do everything in my power to work for where I am, and work to become the physical therapist I once had. I will simply jump on my Razor scooter and speed toward success with the wind in my hair. I will forever cherish those two weeks, not because I enjoyed them, but because I realized that giving people light in tough times that I know all too well is really the impact I want to make in others' lives - all I need to do is jump on my Razor scooter.