As I lay in the hospital bed with a sticker over my right eye, I could only hope that the surgeon would remove the correct one. I had cancer of the retina and was forced to make a grown-up decision, whether or not I was ready. I had just entered the eighth grade when I decided to have my eye removed to prevent the cancer from spreading.

Since birth, I have lived with a rare genetic disorder that has impacted my life not just physically but emotionally. Throughout my childhood, I had more doctors’ appointments than play dates and countless hospital visits.

In an appointment that changed the way I viewed my life, the doctor said the cancer had developed. Why is this happening to me? Is God punishing me? Did I do something wrong? I just wanted a normal childhood, but then I realized, I was not your “normal” kid. I knew in my heart that I had to have the surgery.

Once people found out that I had only one eye, not a day passed without the same questions, “Can you take out your eye? It looks so real! Can I touch it?” At first, self-consciousness and pity overwhelmed me. It was hard enough going through the emotional roller-coaster of puberty, without adding my distinctive characteristic.

This experience has ignited my passion for medicine and caring for others. Many memorable doctors and nurses have helped me. The day of my surgery, I was shaky, questioning my decision. The nurses realized how I was feeling and helped relieve my anxiety. I hope to touch others’ lives as those nurses touched mine.