When I was 13, my father and stepmother had a baby: Beautiful Ian James. James is not only my father's name, but my other older brother's name also. A bit self-centered, one might wonder, but that's a story for another week. My stepmother, Lauren, was due September 14, the day after my own birthday, so I was highly anticipating the birth of my new sibling. By the grace of God, on September 20, 2010, I became a big sister. I remember thinking to myself that I would never let any bad entity ever lay a single hand on my precious brother. But unfortunately, immediately after birth due to complications, my little man was put to the test. He began having seizures, too many to control, and his health became very unstable. The calm after the storm proceeded during the next few months because Ian would spend the first four months of his life in the hospital, constantly being monitored, wires stuck to his head. Definitely not how you imagine spending the first few months with your newborn. It was really, really hard, but after a few months, my baby brother finally came home.

Once at home, we spent most of our time getting used to the baby's lifestyle. Doctors constantly experimenting with medicine, all because we just weren't sure what was wrong with our angel. Finally, the words "cerebral palsy" came up. For those of you that don't know what CP is, it's a permanent movement disorder that is caused by unknown or abnormal growth in the cerebral cortex (the part of your brain that controls movement).

As Ian aged, we started to understand what that meant to us. Up until around 18 months, Ian was still having these seizures. It was just plain terrifying and so upsetting to watch. I would be feeding my baby brother, holding him in my arms, and he would all of a sudden lock up and his head would tilt to the side, and his arms would tense up, and his eyes would roll into the back of his head. This was intense stuff, and all I could do was hold him with caution and then comfort him after. What battles he faced every day of his life at such a young age — we call him "Ian the Dragon Slayer" because he's been slaying the CP dragon for a damn long time.

The reasons I'm thankful for modern technology and medicine is for the great things it provides to help my little brother. Ian has been to just about every kind of therapy imaginable, and it's pretty cool. He's ridden horses to promote core strength, we take him to water aerobics and he even has therapists help him eat and play in ways that will enable his muscles to grow. He also has the coolest chairs and bikes known to man. A generous company donated a walking enabled tricycle for my brother so that we could push him, and his legs would make the motions of riding a bike himself.

Ian is 5 now. He can't walk on his own, can't form coherent speech, feed or change himself. Many people might think that means he's stupid or call him retarded. Those kinds of people enrage me. My brother Ian and I have an amazing relationship, and I feel us communicating. You can't deny the love he has in his voice and smile when he sees me walking in the door. A simple "hey, where's your sista sista at?" will have him kicking and laughing, waiting for me to make farting noises on his tummy. I love him with my whole heart, and I would never want anyone to ever make him feel less of a person because of how his body works. Using hateful language and making comments about another's actions or appearance is just disgusting. What those lowlife's don't understand is that people like Ian are actually stronger than all of us. The number of doctor appointments he's been to in his five years might be more than a healthy person could go in their entire life. The amount of adversity Ian has had to overcome is unbelievable. He just learned to stand on his own when he was about 4. What made it so much more difficult was that at 4, he weighed around 40 pounds, which means his body needs more muscle to move itself, making it much more difficult than a 20-pound, 1-year-old infant. People like my younger brother are freaking fighters, man. We need to respect people who have physical challenges because we have got it easy.

I will love my little brother Ian, along with my other two siblings, more than anyone else on this earth. I'm not that spiritual but I thank whatever the heck is up in that sky every day for giving me them in my life. Is it easy being in the Schreck family? No, but I would never change a thing.