Go Wildcats!
How odd it is to read a peice of paper and look at your whole life. Yet, that seems to be a running motif in my life in the past six months. My life on a peice of paper. For colleges, those stickly sticklers, we draft out our entire lives in terms of awards, activities, community service and jobs. We write an essay explaining what's most important to us. We fill out applications mapping out the information they want to know. For some of us, we get in. For many, including the majority of my friends, they don't accept what they see. But what can that mean? What doesn't Noah have that would make him Yale material? A Unicorn? I just don't get it.
I just received my life's medical report. It fits on three typed pages. It's reads like a college resume. I'm a handsome young man. I have truncus type 3. I've had three surgeries: 11/87, 2/90, 8/04. My lungs are clear. I have mild aortic regurgitation.
I have pretty awesome friends. New friends too. I have a rock. I have a pal. I have a buddy. I have a date. I feel kinda on top of the world, not gonna lie.
I feel . . . happy.
I just received my life's medical report. It fits on three typed pages. It's reads like a college resume. I'm a handsome young man. I have truncus type 3. I've had three surgeries: 11/87, 2/90, 8/04. My lungs are clear. I have mild aortic regurgitation.
I have pretty awesome friends. New friends too. I have a rock. I have a pal. I have a buddy. I have a date. I feel kinda on top of the world, not gonna lie.
I feel . . . happy.