When I was 12 years old, I didn't have a care in the world. My
biggest concern was what position my big brother was going to allow me
to play in our daily game of cul-de-sac baseball.
All
that changed on a cold January day in 2000. My new dilemma was no
longer clothes, school or even boys. It was surviving. I was diagnosed
with cancer.
Lying in a bed at MD Anderson Cancer Center
in Houston, the voice of my doctor echoed...
