A few very fortunate people get to go through life unscathed by illness; only getting a cold or two each year, or getting their tonsils removed. These so very lucky people have no idea what it is like to be truly sick, to wait worriedly for test results to come back, to have family praying and waiting for word to come about how surgery went, if you came out alive, if you will ever be ok again. They have no idea what it is like to be told you need brain surgery, and have five brain tumors at the age of three, all in one day. They have no idea what it feels like to wake up after being in surgery for hours and don’t know true pain. They don’t know how it feels to no longer want to live because of such suffering. They do not know how it feels to be told that you should be put on homebound and that the odds are against you, to know you’ll be fighting for your life in a matter of days. They don’t know what it is like to have more doctors than friends. They have no idea what its like to be so sick yourself and have a mother just as sick. Yet, they don’t know how it feels to become stronger as a family because of it, or feel joyous over a good day. I am not one of very fortunate people. I am one of the unlucky ones.