When I was sixteen, I stopped being able to eat without severe abdominal pain. I was diagnosed with a rare disease called superior mesenteric artery syndrome. I was one of the lucky ones whose symptoms resolved entirely with surgery. However, I “met” many patients online who were not so lucky or who were told their symptoms were all in their heads. This sparked my interest in rare disease advocacy and becoming a physician. In college, I joined RareND, Notre Dame’s rare disease awareness club. I served as president and established RareND as one of the first National Organization for Rare Disorders student clubs in the country. With other members of the RareND board, I developed a mobile app prototype called ZEBRA to unify the rare disease community. Our app won third place out of 85+ teams in the Notre Dame-SAP App Competition. During my sophomore year, I sustained a traumatic brain injury that caused me to develop continuous eye pain. It took three years for me to be diagnosed with chronic atypical migraine. Determined not to give up on my dream of becoming a physician, I took two gap years after college to focus on my health and gain more clinical experience. Once in medical school, I co-founded University of Illinois Students for Rare to raise awareness for rare diseases among medical students. During my third year, my autoimmune disease called juvenile idiopathic arthritis (JIA) came out of remission for the first time since high school. My rheumatologist prescribed naproxen. It helped my JIA, but my ears started to ring loudly. We stopped the medication, but the ringing became worse. Soon, all noises started to sound increasingly loud. It wasn’t long before everyday sounds caused lasting burning and stabbing pain in my ears, even while wearing ear plugs and ear muffs. I was forced to put my in-person rotations on hold and switch to virtual electives. I became mostly homebound. I had developed a condition called pain hyperacusis. This was nine months ago and I’ve only seen mild improvement. My doctors wonder whether my JIA or brain injury could have been predisposing factors. Research into pain hyperacusis is in its infancy and there are no proven treatments. Thanks to pain hyperacusis, my five-year relationship ended and I’ve lost the ability to be in typical public places or even speak normally. At times, I’ve wanted to throw in the towel, but I didn’t come this far to give up. Just like I have in the past, I decided to “make lemonade out of lemons.” I began applying for grants on behalf of the nonprofit Hyperacusis Research. My proposals have been awarded $25,000 so far. I also started the Hyperacusis Research Amazon Store as another fundraising avenue. I’ve begun publishing interviews with every researcher and clinician in the world who has any experience with pain hyperacusis. Slowly but surely, strides are being made towards developing a better understanding of the condition, which will hopefully lead to treatment options. Once it becomes possible for me, I plan to start an integrative medicine practice focused on whole-person healthcare, in which I can spend ample time with each patient. This type of care is out of reach for many individuals, so my dream is to dedicate a few days per month to providing this care free of charge so that it is accessible to all. I will be a staunch advocate for my patients, especially those going through long medical “odysseys” like those I have experienced. I have no idea how my story develops from here, but I’m embracing the detours for now.