I feel as though if anyone were to read my blog, I would want them to know me better than just some random person.  This is why I am going to tell my life story… that way, at least, you’ll know better the person behind the random rantings. 

I was born prematurely with my twin brother twenty years ago in Ireland.  I had two parents (both medical missionaries), an older brother, a million cousins, aunts and uncles, and a dog.  After a month of fighting, my twin died, and I was allowed home.  I spent most of my childhood continent-jumping and over the course of a couple years I even acquired a younger sister and brother.  Eventually my parents settled in Seattle, Washington so they could work at the Children’s Regional Hospital.  My siblings and I were admitted into Seattle Country Day School (SCDS), a school for the gifted where we were to have our “abilities developed into those of highly capable children”.  We spent six months there, and six months living and learning in various third-world paediatric clinics for orphans of impoverished, famine-ridden, and war-torn countries.  My younger brother, it was discovered, had Cystic Fibrosis and after a long fight and many surgeries he died.  My parents couldn’t properly cope with losing a second son, and our time away from home became longer and longer.  This led to us being eventually kicked out of SCDS and spending the majority of our year being tutored on the dusty floors of clinics; the clinics were always the same, only the continent changed.  When not traveling, my childhood was spent between Washington and Ireland where I played soccer (or football), sailed, and tried to forget the images of dying children. 

Eventually we settled long enough to open a clinic in Gambia and my siblings and I went back to Seattle to finish a proper year of school.  I never thought that I’d miss the smelly death-ridden clinics, but I did.  Besides soccer, I had no reason to stay in America when my mind was always on Gambia. It was hard for me to relate to the kids my age because they thought only of cell-phones, movies, and shopping while I thought of how many vaccines their cell-phone bill could buy.  Iwas drafted onto an elite soccer team and spent 20 hours a week in weekly practices, conditionings, and matches.  I moved up ranks quickly, and when summer came around I had to choose… Gambia or soccer.  I chose Gambia.  I knew I could play in higher levels if I wasn’t willing to make sacrifices, but helping people became my passion, soccer was just a side-job. 

I made it through middle school, and high school.  Playing soccer for my school and county, even getting offers from univeristies and then I got incredibly sick. My parents convinced me to visit the hospital where an old family friend would take good care of me.  Many tests were run, and my worst fears were fastly becoming a reality.  As a child I suffered from Fanconi Anemia but it was easily controlled and with proper care it not often caused me problems, but no matter how I ignored it I always knew that time was going to be a problem.  Fanconi, you see, is almost a “for sure” for the development of Leukemia or other blood diseases, and I was no exception.