The sounds of children wailing and a television loudly displaying "Thomas and Friends" isn’t exactly the most appealing situation for anyone over the age of eight or nine. An unnaturally cheerful woman sits typing away at a computer pretending she enjoys her job as she tells people to “please take a seat” as they walk in. These kids sit in the waiting room as equals, but as soon as a woman they do not know opens a door and calls their names, they must face their own personal monsters within them.

Uncomfortable breathing, nervousness, and lots of wires hold my attention for the next twelve minutes. I look down at my shoes as he tells me the news every parent and patient wants to hear: I am as healthy as I possibly can be for my situation. Amazingly, I am overcome with nostalgia, but not the “late summer night” type of nostalgia. Images of almost three hour long MRIs, running on a treadmill at the age of three with my nose plugged, and ten (or more) EKG stickers being forcefully ripped off my body leaving my skin red and sore seemed oddly worth the pain I felt at the time. My nostalgia wasn’t filled with affection and longing for the past, but it made me feel content with the memories. I was being given endless freedoms and chances to take control of my life. I was once unsure if many of these freedoms were even possible for me. Now, it feels pretty damn good to have to strength to say I proved every ignorant doctor wrong who ever said I would be “stupid and ugly” when I grew up, or strangers who judged my parents for taking me out in public as a newborn with a fresh fire-red nine inch scar on my chest.

Choosing to do the opposite of what many expected of me by never backing down from a challenge and living a passionate, full life was the result of me being a very determined girl from the time I could speak. One who never gave up. One who hated her imperfections at many different times in her life, but chose to ignore them.

One who now can simply live without fear now that her future isn’t living in the unknown.

I have never been more grateful for my fiery red soul.