My stay in the hospital was a lengthy one and I had many nurses. Ashley Dougherty was one of the few nurses who would take time out of her clearly busy day to sit and talk to me. When the tears would come, Ashley would remind me of how far I've come. She refused to see a little thing bring me to tears because in her eyes I was strong; I, a feeble weak girl laying pale and afraid in a hospital bed was the strong one, not this nurse sitting on the edge of my bed working 12-hour shifts who I never heard complain once. She never complained when she had to pick me up from the floor because I wanted so badly to be able to walk on my own but physically could not. After Ashley settled me safely back in my bed, she looked me in my eyes through my sobs and took my hand, telling me I was strong.