University of Pennsylvania

My chemotherapy had failed. Within forty-eight hours, my mom, a Latina single mother, and I left our home in New York to seek treatment for me at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, despite the possibility of her losing her job. Although unfamiliar, the Philadelphia Ronald McDonald House (the “RMH”) became a place of comfort for my mother, my brother, and myself. At the RMH, patients created a sense of normalcy, despite our severe medical conditions. We built a community through meals, making pizza, and sleepovers. We became lifelong friends, bonding over our shared hardships,…