In July of 2015, the summer before my senior year of high school, I began having a headache, stomach ache, and fever. At the age of 17, I attributed not feeling well to stress. After a few more days of feeling sick, I visited my pediatrician and was told it was just the flu. About a week later, I still had a fever, so I went to both urgent care and the ER. After many tests, they told me they would send the results to my pediatrician. The next Monday, my doctor ordered blood work for me to get done as soon as possible. After my lab work, I was sent home and expected to follow up within the next few days. However, that night, we received a call from my doctor saying that I needed to be admitted to the hospital in Reno as soon as possible. After a few days at the hospital and more tests, the doctor pulled my parents out of the room to talk to them alone. I knew the news was bad. I sat in my hospital room crying, waiting for my parents to come back and tell me what was going on. It felt like forever, but they finally came back with the doctor, and the three of them told me they suspected Chron’s Disease or cancer. Because I couldn’t be officially diagnosed at the hospital in Reno due to lack of testing at the time, I had to be transferred to UCSF Children’s Hospital oncology unit. At the time I had no idea what oncology even meant. The next day, I was careflighted to San Francisco. After a few more days of testing at UCSF, the doctors set up a meeting time for my family and me. On July 15, 2015, the doctors walked into my room early in the morning and made sure all of my family members were sitting down. The three words that changed my life forever came next. “You have cancer.” I saw my parents start to cry. I was in shock. I wondered what this meant. Would I be able to start and finish my senior year of high school? Would I lose my hair? And most importantly, would I live? After the initial discussion, I was told I would have to have surgery to remove my main tumor and to do a biopsy to see which type of cancer I had and to figure out my treatment plan. Two days later, I had surgery to remove the tumor in my intestines. Unfortunately, the tumor was bigger than they originally thought, and I ended up having to have an ostomy bag to allow my intestines time to heal. The night after my surgery, I was in disbelief that I had woken up with a “poop bag” that I would have to live with for a few months and I was in so much pain that I couldn’t even turn myself in bed. A few days later, I was officially diagnosed with Burkitt’s Lymphoma. I was told I would receive 5 rounds of chemotherapy that were each about a week long. Each round would be done inpatient in San Francisco, therefore I would have to do school online during treatment. Finally, after about 3 weeks of being in the hospital, I was discharged home to Reno. I was supposed to be admitted again in about 2 weeks to start my first round of chemotherapy. However, after only about 3 days of being home, I was throwing up nonstop and felt even worse than I did before my surgery. I ended up going to the emergency room and was told I had an infection and abscess from my original surgery. Again, I was careflighted to UCSF. My first round of chemo would be postponed and I would have to receive strong antibiotics and have drains placed to get rid of the infection. After the infection cleared, I received my first round of chemotherapy. While it was not the worst of the 5 rounds, I remember waking up the next morning feeling very weird. My taste buds felt different, and my head felt fuzzy. This was only the beginning. I was able to attend a fundraiser held by my close friend, and senior sunrise, before going back to San Francisco for my second round of chemo. Again, the second round was not too difficult while I received treatment. I returned home to Reno and had a get-together with my family members who had decided to shave their heads for me. This day meant so much to me, but I did not shave my head with them as I wanted to wait until my hair started falling out. The day after our “head shaving party” I ended up getting a fever and had to be admitted to the hospital. That night, while lying in bed in the hospital, I grabbed my hair to move it, and a big clump of hair came out in my hands. I instantly turned to my dad and told him I was going to shave my head the next day. My hair lady came to the hospital and shaved my head, and my best friend’s head in support of me. After being discharged from the hospital, I was able to live life as much as I could. Until the night I had my first seizure. While I do not remember much of this night, my dad always tells me it was the scariest moment of his life. As I seized in his arms, he yelled to my brother to call 911, and he thought he was losing me. I again was careflighted to UCSF. After many more tests, they figured out that my seizure was caused by intrathecal chemotherapy, or chemo that I had been receiving in my spine. They started me on anti-seizure medications and stopped the intrathecal chemo. I stayed at UCSF through the third round of chemotherapy. During the third round, I had to have a feeding tube placed, because of how much weight I had lost during treatment so far. I had to be in a wheelchair because I was so weak. A few weeks later, came round 4. This round, I received different medications. I unfortunately ended up having a fever and feeling sick while I was actively receiving chemo. But, this ended up being a blessing in disguise because the nurses were able to give me medicine to control my sickness instead of having to suffer at home. I was also looking forward to attending my aunt’s wedding before my final round. I was out of the hospital and on my way to my aunt’s wedding in Salt Lake. The wedding was amazing, and I was so excited to be there for my aunt! However, after the wedding, I had another seizure. Luckily, the paramedics were able to stop the seizure and I didn’t have to go to the hospital.On my final night of chemo, I had a nurse who knew I wanted to be a nurse, and she ended up letting me take down my own chemo. This was even more special, as she was a travel nurse, and it was her last night at UCSF, and my last night of chemo at UCSF. The next morning, I rang the traditional “no more chemo bell.” While my family and all of the nurses and doctors on the unit surrounded me, I was able to celebrate the end of my chemo treatment. Two months later, I was scheduled to have a final surgery to reverse my ostomy. But, I had to have scans to make sure the cancer was gone the day before my surgery. I went to my scan, nervous and fearful of what the results would show. A few hours after the scan, we received a phone call from one of the oncologists. I will never forget the words I heard… “Haley’s scans came back with no evidence of disease. She is cancer-free.” Tears filled all of our eyes as we cheered. I did it, I beat cancer!! I was able to return to my second semester of my senior year of high school in person. I graduated high school and attended college as a nursing major. I still have many long-term effects of chemotherapy. Last year when I was running a race, I had another seizure and will probably have to stay on antiseizure medications for the rest of my life. I also still have moments of PTSD and “chemo brain.” Cancer doesn’t end when treatment does, and cancer will always be part of my life. But, after all the hard work, stress, and tears, throughout cancer treatment, and nursing school, everything paid off. I have now been a nurse 3 years, and a pediatric oncology nurse for almost 2 years. It is all I have expected and more. I have formed amazing relationships with my patients and their families, and have learned so much. I have been able to tell my patients my story and have them thank me deeply for sharing with them. I have been able to relate to my patients and families and empathize with them in many ways, both medically and emotionally. I have had patients hug me as they discharge, to thank me for my kindness and care. My nurses are what got me through my tough days, and I absolutely love being there for my patients on their difficult days. Thank you for supporting me and the more than 300,000 kids worldwide who will be diagnosed with cancer this year. By sharing the gifts of your time, talent and money with the St. Baldrick’s Foundation, you're supporting research to give all kids with cancer a better chance for a cure.