Until I was five, my perspective on life was shaped by a pretty idyllic childhood growing up in Helena, a small town by most standards. I walked to school, knew everyone at church, and hung out with friends and neighbors of all ages. There was no reason to leave my hometown, and my family wouldn’t have if not for a cancer diagnosis shortly after my fifth birthday.
My family left Helena and moved to Seattle three separate times for cancer treatment over the course of the next five years. We would be there for months at a time, away from friends, family, school, church and community. Although I wouldn’t have chosen this for my family, it forced me to grow, explore new things, live outside my comfort zone, and understand a little bit more about the world outside of Montana.
The doctors and nurses at Seattle Children’s Hospital made a pretty horrible experience much more tolerable, and they left me with overall positive memories of the entire journey. I connected with medical staff, teachers in the hospital school, and several fellow patients along the way, but I had a special connection with Daisy, a girl my age from Great Falls. We became fast friends and forgot all about our medical issues when we hung out in the hospital together. At one point in 2nd Grade, we had the opportunity to write poetry for an event in the hospital cafeteria. I was feeling too ill to read my poem, but as the teacher read mine aloud to the crowd, Daisy yelled out, “GO VIV!” from the back of the room. After the event, she started talking about my poem, about getting home, and about how we’d meet back in Montana when we were both better. I had never felt as comfortable or supported as I did around Daisy. Just a few months later, I sat in the second row of Daisy’s church in Great Falls as her priest talked about her mischief at home, her friends in Great Falls, and then about me. I was wearing colorful striped tights the way Daisy would have wanted me to at her funeral. I walked past her open casket and she was almost unrecognizable without her tubes and IVs.
Whether thin, bald, or stuck in a hospital bed tied to IVs and a feeding tube, or lobbying members of Congress for pediatric cancer research funding, I could only think of Daisy embodied strength and courage, and I take inspiration from her when I feel weak. It’s Daisy’s type of bravery that I try to carry with me every day.
The cancer journey itself, the medical professionals I met, and the friendship I established with Daisy have all changed by perspective and inspire me to pursue an education in medicine to practice in pediatric oncology. After joining my high school’s Health Careers class, I discovered an excitement for learning at a whole different level. We toured the hospital, shadowed specialists, observed a variety of treatments and procedures, and received our CAN Certification at the end of the course. The hands-on experiences gave me a different perspective on the medical field and cemented my interest in continuing to learn about career opportunities in medicine.
I was comfortable with life in a small town. The normalcy of dinner in my childhood home, my friends coming by my house to walk to school, and impromptu neighborhood gatherings are the things I missed most while in Seattle for treatment. But the care I received and connections I made while in treatment have made me into the confident and compassionate person I am today. My life goal now is to use my medical journey to provide not just excellent care, but the same positive life-changing experience for other kids facing challenging medical conditions.