Purdue Nursing senior Ashley Woltman overcame a rare form of acute lymphoblastic leukemia in 2014. The image on the left was during her cancer treatment at the University of Chicago Comer Children’s Hospital. On the right, Woltman teaches children 10 years later during a fall 2024 Curiosity Clinic event.(Photo illustration by Tim Brouk)
Written by: Tim Brouk, tbrouk@purdue.edu
Ashley Woltman calls it “the Spider-Man.”
The Purdue University School of Nursing senior has interacted with sick children during her clinicals on the pediatric cardiology unit of Riley Children’s Health in Indianapolis, working in the Purdue Curiosity Clinic program or volunteering at summer camps for children battling cancer. To get the often sad or weak kids to smile, she will get on the ground and contort her body to emulate the Marvel Comics webslinger.
“Be a kid,” Woltman said. “You kind of have to goof around a little bit, but you also have to set your boundaries. ‘We could play a little bit, but then we’re going to have to do our work. We’re going to have to sit down. We’re going to have to do the shot.’”
Woltman demonstrates her “Spider-Man” pose she uses to cheer up child patients.(Tim Brouk)
The connection she feels with sick children or those who are cancer survivors stems from her own childhood. Woltman was only 11 when she was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL), a type of blood cancer that causes bone marrow to produce too many white blood cells known as lymphocytes. This leads to a buildup of these immature cells, crowding out healthy blood cells and causing various symptoms.
ALL is most common in children, making it the most frequent childhood cancer, according to the National Cancer Institute. After her original chemotherapy was having no effect, it was learned young Woltman had an extremely rare mutation of ALL — Philadelphia chromosome-like ALL. At that time in early 2014, Woltman was one of only a handful of children alive known to have such a diagnosis.
Woltman’s family took a chance on bone marrow transplant surgery for their young daughter. The surgery was a success; the road to recovery was long, which included missing 20 months of school and nine months in isolation to avoid infections while her immune system recovered.
Today, Woltman is vice president of fundraising for the Purdue Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and she is preparing for graduation in May with the career goal of obtaining a nursing position in pediatrics or cardiology in the Chicago area.
Every parent’s nightmare
Woltman grew up in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago, with her little brother, Scotty; her mother, Sandy; and her father, Dale. Woltman was in fifth grade when she was diagnosed with ALL on Jan. 1, 2014. That New Year’s Day was followed by months of chemotherapy, radiation and hospital stays. Her tiny body was bashed and bombarded as she resided in the University of Chicago Comer Children’s Hospital.
“The original chemo didn’t work. I was still pretty full of cancer cells. So, then they went to another generation higher of that chemo,” Woltman said. “I was on almost every drug in the book, and not a single one was approved for kids.”
While the children’s wing staff were caring and compassionate, the doctors and staff who floated over from adult wings had questionable bedside manners with the girl, who was old enough to understand most of what was going on but still too young to follow some of what was being discussed. These doctors then had to deal with Sandy Woltman.
“They told my parents, ‘OK, we have nothing else we can do. We’ll send her home in hospice, or we can just keep her comfortable,’” Woltman remembered. “They were sitting in with my dad and my doctor, and my mom goes, ‘I hate you.’ My mom didn’t allow them to basically send me home, and she said, ‘Figure it out. Get yourself together. Figure it out.’”
Woltman’s mother demanded outside opinions and options. A bone marrow transplant was brought up, and the family enthusiastically pursued the option, though it gave the girl a 50% shot at survival. The surgery had to be done quickly.
“It was four months after I was diagnosed,” Woltman explained. “I went into my transplant actually with a punctured and collapsed lung because my donor couldn’t wait, and they were trying to get me stable enough to go into transplant.”
Road to recovery
After the spring 2014 surgery, Woltman’s recovery at home was difficult.
“We were isolated to only my family and that’s it. I couldn’t have any friends over, so it was a little struggle,” Woltman recalled. “I couldn’t go outside. We’d go to the store, and I had to stay in the car. I had to wear an N95 (mask) everywhere. It was interesting. It was COVID during pre-COVID so it was a little weird. And when COVID came around, I’m like ‘This is a little scary. I’m wearing a mask again. It’s really freaky.’”
Technology was the girl’s savior. She was able to FaceTime friends and family, and she was an early adopter of Zoom. She played the Nintendo Wii alone in her room as she built up her physical strength.
Woltman, left, interacts with two children during a fall 2024 Curiosity Clinic event.(Tim Brouk)
A Purdue Nursing inspiration
Fellow nursing major Ashley Griffith said Woltman’s story has echoed through Johnson Hall of Nursing. Other students find inspiration and motivation around her.
“She has explained to me before that some of her nurses were the only ones who got her to smile in such a depressing time in her life,” Griffith stated. “Ashley’s story has actually inspired me to join a bone marrow transplant organization, as a bone marrow transplant helped save her life when she was younger. She has also helped me see the struggle young children with cancer truly experience. I have seen Ashley interact with children, and she truly does so well with them. She knows exactly how to engage with them and bring them out of their shell. She takes on a whole different persona when working with kids, and they absolutely love her. I have taken Ashley’s methodology when I work with kids.”
Advocate for ALL
When she’s not studying for her nursing classes or raising money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, Woltman can be found in Indianapolis or even Washington, D.C., advocating for families and their children fighting for their lives.
“We (members of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society in Indiana) went down to the Indiana State House, and we were talking to the senators about a bill to help Hoosiers get out of medical debt. It didn’t pass by two votes,” Woltman said. “We were pulling senators actually off the floor, which I’ve never done and was very exciting. We were pulling them from the bathroom. We were catching them on their way out. I chased one down the hallway, ‘Hey, senator! Senator!’ I didn’t know who they were, but I just said, ‘OK, here’s my story. Do something about it.’”
Woltman acknowledged if it wasn’t for her father’s excellent health insurance, she might not be here today. So, what about children less fortunate than her or those who live in states that don’t have access to facilities like the University of Chicago hospital?
“Some kids actually never get approved for out-of-state care. They have to wait weeks to months, and sometimes they just never get approved, and they end up passing away,” Woltman said. “So, if you’re in Hobart, Indiana, and you want to go to the University of Chicago and you’re on Medicaid, you possibly will never get approved.”
Whether she’s advocating for them or treating them in a hospital, Woltman said her cancer year is a constant reminder of why she wants to treat children as a nurse.
“I’m still kind of a child at heart, so I like playing around,” she added. “I like being able to take the time with them and explain everything because I saw how the nurses explained it to me, and I was like, ‘OK, that’s a really good way to say that’ or ‘Let’s not do that again. That’s not the way to say it.’
“I want to give back.”