Thumbing through my teenage journals, I find pages upon pages of rants directed at my parents, my little brother, the popular kids in school and how utterly unfair and tragic it is that I wasn't allowed to watch Melrose Place. So it makes me feel pretty shallow and petty to read something like this, about an 18-year-old who writes about how much he wants to survive his battle with cancer in his online journal. He began writing his innermost thoughts after he was diagnosed with Alveolar rhabdomyosarcoma, a rare cancer that affects muscles, tendons and connective tissue. The strain of treatment caused him to all but lose his voice and without a way to get his words out, he started writing them down. His writing is stunningly articulate and supremely heartbreaking but also full of wisdom and somewhat hopeful, even though his chances of survival are slim. To anyone who takes their life for granted too often, I offer this, in his words:
"The way I see it, we're not entitled to one breath of air. We did nothing to earn it, so whatever we get is bonus. I might be more than a little disappointed with the hand I've been dealt, but this is what it is.... I don't believe you can ask for any more, but if I could ask for something, it would be to be able to go outside into the glorious spring air, feeling healthy and blissfully clueless as to how lucky I was for it, if only just for an hour."
I am moved beyond words.
