I was born with a genetic disease called cystic fibrosis (CF). After the age ten, the disease started to take over my body. I was put in a wheelchair and on liquid oxygen. My lungs finally gave out. My family and I moved to the University of North Carolina so I could have a double-lung transplant. In August 1992 I got new lungs.
I am not going to lie, there were many times when I thought I would die fighting for my last breath on a vent in a hospital. For years I put on a show for people. My smile would cover the physical pain my frail body was going through. I did not want pity, so I faked it. I feel that, since I have a shorter life span than most, I have to live every day like it is my last. I am not mad at CF because I believe God gave it to me to see what I would do with it. I just want to touch and inspire people so when I am gone, they will talk about me for a long time. I have done more at twenty-nine sick than most fifty-year-olds do healthy.