My 14-year-old daughter was diagnosed with Ewing Sarcoma, a large tumor had grown where her right kidney should have been. As her mother, I’ve wrestled with intense guilt—guilt for not recognizing the signs sooner, for postponing doctor visits, for not knowing. Her treatment was grueling. The side effects hit hard and fast, stripping away so much of her mobility and challenging her spirit. One particularly difficult day, she had a frightening reaction to a new combination of medications. I immediately raised concerns, certain that the medication was the culprit. The medical team listened kindly, but despite their words, I never truly felt heard. Then Nurse Kelsey Fehr walked in and took over. She took one look at me, met my eyes, and said something I’ll never forget: she promised not to administer the medication. It wasn’t essential to my child's treatment, and she could see how overwhelmed and powerless I felt. In that moment, she did more than alter a treatment plan—she acknowledged my voice, validated my instincts, and reassured me that I was advocating for my daughter the right way. Throughout that day, Nurse Kelsey kept me informed of every decision, every conversation. But more than that, she gave me back something I had lost: confidence. She helped push back the wave of guilt that had been threatening to drown me for months. Many incredible nurses supported my daughter during her nine-month journey, and I’m forever grateful to them. But this single moment—this act of compassion and advocacy—changed everything for me. Nurse Kelsey reminded me that I still had a role, that I still had power, and that I was doing the best I could for my daughter. That strength carried me through to the end—right up to the moment I watched my daughter as she rang the bell.