My story begins as every other does, in a hospital room wrapped in a pink blanket...probably crying. It wasn't until I turned 2 that my life would change. Most 2 year olds don't understand what it means to be diagnosed with cancer; for me, it was a brain tumor that doctors believed would prevent me from ever walking again. But here's the cool thing about 2 year old's; they're effortlessly resilient. Over 2 dozen surgeries and hundreds of hospital visits later, I got to ring the remission bell and have been cancer free ever since! But I would be lying if I ended my story with a happily ever after; because it isn't. I may not have understood the concept of cancer as a two year old, but my parents did, and as happy as they were to hear the resonating *ding, ding, ding* from the remission bell, the original diagnosis never really went away for them.

I have spent most of my life behind closed doors and out of harm's way, but nonetheless alone. I started this battle as an innocent young girl, fighting for her life without even understanding what that meant. Although I have had to say a painful and heartbreaking goodbye to one too many people I've met along the way, my journey through the cancer battlefield has taught me to appreciate every moment, every conversation, every breakfast lunch & dinner, every smile and laugh, every birthday and holiday, and every second of this beautiful life we live.

I have spent a lot of time denying that I needed help, trying my hardest to channel that effortlessly resilient two-year old who kicked cancer's butt; but my condition is undeniable. I understand that I may not be a normal, or typical teenager, and that I may not live a normal or typical American life. But that doesn't mean I get to give up. Actually, it means I have to fight twice as hard to find strength and belief in my abilities to make it work. In the wise words of Hockey Hall of Famer, Wayne Gretzky, "You miss 100% of the shots you don't take". Now, I approach my life with hope, because whether I make it or I don't, I know I have to at least give it a shot.