I don't know how many of you know this, or how many of you don't, but you're all going to know now.

About 4 weeks ago, or so, I had been throwing up for three weeks straight, and I had no idea why. My mother wasn't home, she was in NYC, seeing SPAMALOT, like always, and my dad was manning the fort, (aka myself and my three younger siblings: dylan 15, tyler 13, and mara 10). Obviously, something was very wrong with me. At first, I just thought it was the flu, because my sister had, had it a couple days before, and I thought maybe i had just gotten it off of her. Boy was I wrong, not only could i not stop throwing up, but I started to run a temperature of 103-104.3 (this is normal for me, has been since i was born, so no one really worried too, too much) Well, not yet at least. The days grew longer and longer for me, and my head hurt more and more with each passing day. My mother was still in New York, and my dad doesn't really know too much, (not about sickness at least; my mother is a nurse/x-ray/lab technologist) and when I kept refusing to go to the ER every time he wanted to take me, he gave up, and quit asking. Eventually, I really couldn't take it anymore, and I called my mom in NEW YORK crying. I was so sick, so dehydrated, and in so much pain that I REALLY didn't know what to do with myself. A little side note: (my mom didn't come home because I was supposed to be going to SPAMALOT that weekend, and she was going to stay up there and meet me, instead of driving back, when gas was over $3.00 a gallon. Just in case you were wondering why.) Anyways, as soon as I called my mom, she dropped everything, got the next flight out, and got home immediately (around 5). She MADE me go to the ER, and by this point, I didn't put up too much of a fight (although, in the back of my mind, i was scared to death). So, off we go to the ER, I don't really remember too much, but i know for sure that i fell asleep in the car. When we got there, I started to kind of freak out in the parking lot, just because i hate hospitals, and i can't stand needles; pretty much, I knew what was in store. I knew in my heart that something was really wrong and not at all right with me, I just had yet to find out what it was. After having IV'S put in both of my hands, (my mom stuck my right hand, and got it on the first try, and some other nurse stuck my left, and missed 8 times) i really no longer wanted to be there at all, but i tried to keep a smile on my face and make myself believe that everything was okay (when in my head, i was praying to God so hard, hoping for a miracle and for so many other things that i don't quite remember). I had no idea what would be in store for me that night. From what i'm told, it consisted of many, many, many tests and scans, (on my brain, and all over my body; 14 total). I was only awake long enough to remember two of them, and even that is a bit foggy. I remember, it was around midnight or so, and the doctor came in and told me that I had to drink this dye, and that he was going to give me medicine to make me go to sleep, and that i would wake up, and everything would be fine. The thing is, they gave me too much anesthesia, and i didn't wake up for about 5 and half hours. (And, let me tell you, I was completely out of it at this point, and I don't remember anything). From what my mother has told me, we didn't get any results, whatsoever, until 8:30 the next morning. Then, came the worst news I could have ever imagined in my whole, entire life: I was diagnosed with an inoperable tumor on my brainstem. I remember them breaking the news, and I was the only one who didn't cry. In fact, I looked at my mom (who had tears rolling down her face), and said "I pinky promise you mom, everything is going to be okay." (But, at that point I had no idea what that even meant, or what i was in store for). With that being said, i was kept in the hospital another night, and the doctors ran more tests, to be more sure of themselves, and I was put on 4 different medications, and released from the hospital. These medications were supposed to stop my headaches, and to help me to not throw up anymore. Which, believe it or not, they did the complete opposite. I began throwing up 7 to 8 times a day, and the pain in my head became unbearable at times (more times than not). It wasn't until one morning when i couldn't sit up without blacking out, that i went back to the hospital, and knew something else was wrong. So, as you could probably guess by now, i went through the same tests, and waited hours upon end for the results. Of course, you knew this was coming, more bad news. Not only did I have a tumor on my brainstem, but now i had fluid surrounding it, and no way of getting it out (they couldn't drain it or else i could die if they hit the tumor, and there was nothing else that they could really do). Therefore, they put me on more medication, switched what i was already on, and sent me on my merry way. Days passed and the pain still didn't go away, but I stopped blacking out (which was about the only positive sign). It was a miracle if i went a day without throwing up, and for awhile there, it was just a constant thing that i did. I guess i could say that I had about four good days in a row, then everything went downhill again. I started to feel very, very weak; sometimes even to the point where I couldn't move, or even get out of bed in the morning. I went back to the doctor's and with more, very, very painful tests, they came to the conclusion that my white blood cell count was much too low, well below normal count. With that being said, this is the point in my story that i'm still going through as we speak. They've given me two options: either I do chemotherapy, or I potentially die. Either way, I can die, because chemotherapy doesn't always make people better. By far, when you're told news such as this, it does something to you. It makes you, personally, stop taking life for granted, and for me, it brought me so much closer in my walk with the Lord. I've learned that if you draw near to God, He will draw near to you. Yes, I'm not going to lie and say that i'm okay. I'm not okay, I'm not at all okay (especially not with losing my hair, that's probably going to be one of the hardest things for me)., but deep down I know that in the end it all works out, and all of this will be okay. I am no longer afraid of death; my faith has conquered fear. I also, strongly, strongly believe that if God has planned for me to die, i am going to die, and i'm okay with that. I guess you just really realize that it's God's plan, and not your plan. This is a very hard concept to accept, but I've accepted it, and I really am completely okay with the idea of that actually happening. I know that I have made a difference in people's lives, because God has granted me opportunities to do so, and that if He gives me more, I will continue with my life goal. Yes, the headaches are still here, they will never go away, and yes, i have gotten sick recently, the medicine has not fixed that 100%, but I know that I have so much support and love surrounding me, and I can't help but feel so cared for, so touched, so blessed beyond measure. I can't begin to explain how grateful I am, nor how deep the love I have inside my heart for all of you is; I will never be able to say thank you enough, or to ever repay you for all of your time spent worrying, all the tears you've cried over me, and for all of the love that you've given me throughout this whole, entire, ongoing process. Please, please, please, continue to pray for my family, not necessarily me, but for them, for being my rocks, for being my home, and for keeping my head up. I will never be able to express in words how much my life has changed, how this awful diagnosis has brought some of the most amazing, caring, honest, loving, beautiful people into my life. God is watching over me, and so are you Cynthia. (I hope that you don't mind me calling you mom, because i sure feel like that's what you are to me, like a second mommy. I feel you, I know you're protecting me, and you've made that clear). I love you; all of you, more than you could ever know. Thank you so very, very much. As my mother has spoken to many people about me and said "that girl never stops smiling, no matter what she's going through, she always has, and continues to always take it with a amile. As long as she has a smile on her face, we have to keep one on ours as well." WIith that being said, as i write this, I have a smile on my face through the tears, and a smile is what I will continue to wear, until I may need yours to wear someday in the future. May God Bless You Forevermore. All my love - Kayla