I'm grateful for my own head and for all the weird things in it.

If my biggest problem in life was to be healthy, I'd be incredibly bored.

Death is Inevitable. Living a life we can be proud of is something we can control.

I can't just expect people to know what to say. I have to make them see me as more than my illness.

Growing up, I didn't have any role models that were sick that were doing anything with their life, ever.

It's OK to feel pain and experience it. I'm not trying to fix myself. My suffering has given me so much.

I am 17 years old and a senior in high school. I am also, like thousands of other people living on this planet, sick.

I've struggled more with guys, depression drugs, family and career than I ever have with my illness. I'm not an innocent and I'm not a child.

I'm grateful for the doctors that'll be scooping out these lungs and giving me some more life to work with. I'm grateful for the chance to keep being a person.

I don't spend any time thinking about the day that I'm cured, or the day that I'm healthier, and that's because I know that on a certain level it doesn't matter.

My purpose is to help people be more comfortable with their pain and realize that they have power and a lot to give regardless of whether their life seems normal or not.

When we're suffering, we kind of have this notion that we kind of should stop living and we should just focus on his how to 'get over it,' how to just 'get to the other side.'

A lot of people say when you get a short life span you want to go out and do all of this crazy stuff like go bungee jumping and travel to exotic places. But you just want to live.

I didn't want to be one of those people who was resentful. The moment you start saying to people that their lives must be miserable because they're sick, you give their sickness value over them.

What happens when you have an illness where you're never going to be healthy? Does that mean I'm never going to have a life? Am I never going to do anything or be anything other than a sick kid?

I was only 13 years old when I was forced to face the fragility of my own life. A routine surgery landed me in a medically induced coma for two weeks with a mere 1% chance of surviving. But survive I did.

I want to show people that the hospital does have its moments. The hospital is just a place, and even though it does have fluorescent lighting and white walls, it doesn't have to be a miserable experience.

When I was younger and obsessed with becoming an artist, the hospital was my New York loft apartment. I would move the furniture around to create space on the floor, throw down some sheets and indulge in any form of art that I could get my hands on.

As I got older, my life become a whirlwind of homework and responsibilities. The hospital became my retreat, a place to gather my thoughts and focus on my health. The nurses are my friends as well as my caretakers. The doctors are my parents as well as my physicians.

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