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...