After 12 rounds of chemotherapy, 3 months of radiation, and 7 brain surgeries, I’m only here because of God’s plan for my life. I am a brain tumor and traumatic brain injury survivor! In fact, I’m thriving! I’ve spent the past four years rebuilding my life, and the fact that I’m applying to college is a modern-day miracle. By freshman year of high school, I was already undergoing treatment for a brain tumor on my optic nerve, better known as an optic glioma. It all started with blurry vision and my quest for a cool pair of glasses. I ended up instead with an aggressive chemotherapy regimen, no hair, and no appetite. Chemo feels like a mild stomach virus along with random and inexplicable aches and pains. I would sleep all day and all night because sleeping was the only thing I could do, since I was so weak. My mom would help me bathe and my dad would carry me up the stairs each night. After three months, my MRI showed the tumor did not respond to chemo. Would you believe I was happy to stop the chemo even though it wasn’t working? The next step would be proton radiation. While the world was in a Covid shutdown, my mom and I would commute from Rhode Island to Mass General in Boston five days a week for proton therapy. Under normal circumstances, this commute would not work, but because of the Covid lockdown, we drove the otherwise impossible route. Radiation involved a scary-looking hockey mask and just a few minutes each day under the proton beam. My nurses were awesome, and we rocked out to some of our favorite tunes. Eventually, it appeared the radiation was working. My tumor had holes in it. Think Swiss cheese. Everything was going well, maybe a little too well, until it wasn’t. Swelling is a common side effect of radiation, but when the swelling is in your brain, it’s obviously life threatening. Months later after treatment, I went to sleep one afternoon and didn’t wake up. I was in a coma for four days due to my brain swelling. I had part of my skull removed. I spent thirteen days in ICU and of course have no memory of the catastrophic event. However, I do remember waking up in the hospital to my mother looking horrible, with deranged hair and puffy eyes, wondering what had happened. I would go on to recover unlike anything my neurosurgeon had imagined, even with additional brain surgeries as part of my healing. I have a shunt and a partial prosthetic skull, which gives me an automatic pass on rollercoasters. There is no medical explanation for why I’m here. God is good! I’ve had to relearn how to read, type, walk, bathe, hold a pencil or paintbrush, even brush my new locks of hair. I’m now active in helping my neurosurgeon raise money for brain tumor research, specific to gliomas. Whenever I’m back in the hospital for a routine scan, my mom and I drop off coffee gift cards for the families at ICU. Coffee is life, according to my mom. Throughout this journey, I became closer to God. I prayed whenever I could. I was baptized by my dad at church; it was and always will be the best day of my life! I don’t live with a prognosis in mind, and always plan to live life to the fullest. I’ve realized God is good all the time. Even on the most challenging days, I think “I’m still here because of Him.”