On January 9th, 2014, I was given some news that would put me and my family to the ultimate test. My dad was diagnosed with Aplastic Anemia, a rare blood disease that attacks your immune system and stops your body from producing the right blood cells and bone marrow.

I remember decorating for Christmas in December of 2013 and helping put up lights outside with my dad (a tradition that my dad and I always do every Christmas.) I remember him being so weak and tired that he could barely hang one strand of lights on the roof; that was when we knew something was wrong. For weeks he had been fatigued and covered in bruises but we couldn't figure out why. When he was first admitted to the hospital, the doctors believed he either had leukemia or aplastic anemia which we were absolutely clueless about.

Finally, they decided that it was Aplastic Anemia which is not a form of cancer although it is very similar. They had chosen to transfer him to the National Institute of Health in Bethesda, Maryland for treatment since there were very few cases here and since they had an experimental treatment that he would try. I was pulled from my English class (I was a sophomore that year in high school) one day and was told that my dad was leaving for his treatment, not knowing when he would be back or if he would ever be back. My three siblings and I all said our goodbyes unaware of what was ahead of us.

My mom eventually flew up there with him while he was in his trial while the children stayed at home. He regularly updated his blog called bone-marinara and called us every night to let us know how they were doing. My mom would always send us pictures of the snow around the hospital. It was a couple of weeks before my dad was allowed to go home after his trial and treatment. During that time he had missed my little brothers birthday since he was still in the hospital. He was still very sick, a simple cold could have killed him.

Just our luck, my dad got sick on the flight home. I woke up the next morning with my mom taking my dad to the hospital because he had a fever. We were back to square one. We continued to go to school and my parents were both back in the hospital. This time my dad was in the ICU with a failing immune system and little chance of survival.

One afternoon, my mom came home crying and told us that there was a chance that my dad would not make it and that the only thing we could do was pray. Hearing news like that definitely is not something you would ever expect to hear. It felt like something had broke inside of me and I began to think of a life without my dad. I called all of my friends asking for their prayers, I really wasn't sure of what else to do.

A couple weeks later he became stable but his blood cell counts were still low and he wasn't improving much. A week later I went to a church camp in Texas that I had signed up for a few months before. I was not sure about going because we weren't allowed to have our phones and I needed to make sure my dad was okay.

I decided that I needed to go and I am forever grateful I did. The theme for the camp was based off of the bible verse Psalm 46:10 which is "Be still and know that I am God." This whole verse, although small, meant so much to me. It made me understand that no matter what you are going through, to just pause and realize that it is in God`s hands. He is in control and he is here to help you. I came home a week later telling my dad about the verse and saying it over and over again.

He was transported back to Maryland along with my mom. One month later with some exercise, healthy eating, chemo (and a lot a praying) my dad was finally getting better. During that time I was in school and taking care of my family. We had neighbors and friends checking on us and feeding us and driving us to school and practice.

However when they weren't there, I knew it was my responsibility to make sure my home was still a home. It turned into me sleeping in the living room to make sure I was up early enough to clean the house and fix everyones lunches. I cleaned, did laundry, helped with homework, and made sure everything was at peace.

Every time I thought it was getting tough I just remembered my bible verse. That year I excelled in my classes and become close to God and was given a small quote of hope that I continue to use to this day. My dad was released from the hospital right after my sixteenth birthday. We were so happy he was home.

Of course he had to wear a mask and get blood transfusions every week but my family was together again. Fast forward to today, my dad is healthy again, with no chemotherapy, transfusions, or hospitals. He still has Aplastic Anemia (he always will) but his life is back to normal.

Although a scary experience, I am glad it happened because it gave me confidence and responsibility. It allowed me to believe in myself and build a better relationship with God. I still pray that small verse every day because of it`s meaning to me. It has definitely changed me for the better.