As they put the needle in my arm, I realized it doesn't hurt as much as it used to when I was little. Checkup number three this month, and it's only the 15th. Doctor number four this year and it's only April. With every doctor I swear they will figure out what is wrong with me, but no one ever can. My body makes me this way, I can't control it. I'm not like other kids. I can't play in the rain, because I may get a cold. Colds for normal kids lead them to take cough medicine, but for me it ends with an IV in my arm and a lab that comes back triple what they should be. I wish I could play sports, maybe soccer or lacrosse like all my friends, but for me contact sports aren't allowed just in case I get hurt. I can't control it because I was born with it, but with every checkup and doctor I wish they would tell me something new. I wish I could hear the words we know what's wrong with you. In my head they would slide off their tongue like butter, and a smile would appear like it was magic. I'm on checkup number three and doctor number four and its only April 15th, but maybe doctor number four will make me smile.