I Am an Inspiration
   I am such a brave little boy.  That’s what my mom used to tell me.  I’m so strong and I’m going to beat this malignant brain stem glioma that has ravaged my spinal cord.  Everyone used to always tell me that I would walk again one day.  Doctors, nurses, that clown that used to come around.  I can’t die.  I’m so small and my cheeks are so soft.  You know, I used to be sure I’d one day get up from this bed and be glorified by all the world.
   Then Deborah came.  She’s from the Make-A-Wish Foundation.  Shit, thanks for deflating my hopes.  Everyone knows that only terminal kids get to “make a wish.”  Damn.  I got a wish for you Deborah: Get this fucking disease out of my body!  Then stuff it in your fat mouth you bitch.  Yeah then make my mom eat it too.  Shit, half the time I’m so doped up I don’t know piss from shit.  When I’m not drugged, I’m in suffocating, constant, probing pain.  You’ll never know the hurt I’ve suffered nor the pain I rise above.  You can’t appease me with a trip to Disneyland. 
   Fuck.  You think I’m going to die?  Fuck you.  I’m going to kick this cancer’s ass.  One day I’m really going to get up and play baseball and run through a picturesque meadow.  I mean it.  Really.  Hold off on the funeral arrangements, Mother.  I’m coming back.  Then they’ll have the Timothy Dupree story on TV.  Everyone will cry because I’m so inspiring.  People will change for the better.  Soon the world will be at peace because of me.  I am an inspiration.