It has been 14 years since my dad passed away from a horrible disease known as amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.  My dad had ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease).  ALS is a neurodegenerative disease where you lose the ability to control your muscles, so you can't walk, talk, or breathe.  That's only a simple explanation.  When I was in kindergarten, we started worrying about my dad.  He began tripping often and falling down the stairs.  He was finding that even the simplest things, like walking to bed, or breathing in his sleep was difficult, so my mom took him to a doctor.  The doctor diagnosed him with ALS.  We learned that he would be extremely lucky to live at least two more years. 

Every day was a struggle for my dad and my family.  We worried that one of his many machines might not work, and some of those machines were the only things keeping him alive.  Our house was simply full of machines, machines, and more machines.  He had a simple wheelchair that my mom pushed him in to go to the bathroom, and a more complex wheelchair for getting around.  Dad had a breathing machine that he had to wear at all times, and it "lived" on a tray.  He had a stair lift that he used to go up and down stairs, and a computer that he controlled with his eyes so that he could work and communicate with us.  In the last year, he could barely get out of bed.  He couldn't eat, so he had a feeding tube in his stomach.  My dad needed help to sit up, go to the restroom, take a shower, shave, brush his teeth, move his hands, and roll over.  The simplest things were impossible for him.

We were starting to worry more and more about him.  He slept a lot and watched TV because those were the only things he could do.  He couldn't go downstairs anymore.  We put up a railing on the side of the bed so that he wouldn't fall off.  We fastened a battery operated doorbell to the railing, so that if he needed us, he could ring it with his foot and my whole family would come running up.  He was ringing it more often though, and we knew that ALS was really starting to hit him hard.  Even with all the help we received from the ALS Association of Georgia, and volunteers from Emory, he was really sick.  I was scared.  He ended up passing away on August 27, 2007.

Today, fourteen years later, I am much stronger.  I have learned to live my life to the fullest, and to help other people because I know how easily life can be taken away, snuffed out like a candle.  I have raised thousands of dollars in the past fourteen years of my life for the ALS Association of Georgia, and I am still raising more.  I do everything I can to raise awareness for this horrible disease.  As time passes and the number of years I have gone without my dad on this Earth increase, I find myself wanting to help others against this horrible disease more and more and helping the ALS Association of Georgia raise money for supplies and a cure is one of the best ways to do just that.

Occasionally, I still wake up in the middle of the night sobbing.  Sometimes in the middle of the day, I will burst into tears.  But I also realize that I am not powerless.  I do not want anybody else to go through what I had to go through.  I will fight for the cure to this horrible disease, and hopefully the money I have raised will help other families get the same treatment my family got.  I love my dad, and I am thankful for everything he taught me.  Watching him fight his battle so courageously has made me into the caring and compassionate person that I am today. 

I know first-hand what ALS can do, and the ALS Association has helped my family so much.  They were the ones that gave us the motorized wheelchair and the stair lift.  They were the ones that gave us the computer that he operated with his eyes so he could communicate with us when he could no longer speak.  They were the ones that gave us the machines to make a difficult time just a little bit easier.  Speaking from experience, your donation can really make a difference.  Thank you so much for your help and support.

Brittany