talk breathe, eat on my own again. if i had the ability to do it i probably would have committed suicide. i m trying to yell at myself to move my arms. pick your stupid arm up. pick your stupid arm up. that s all i m telling myself, and nothing s happening. i prayed every day. your son s sitting in a bed, and the doctor said to me he might not be alive tomorrow. and that was the hardest thing in the world. i thought, he s going to die before me. i didn t want that to happen. you never want that to happen. my dad s motivation and drive is music. on february 12th, 2009 i picked my left arm up off the bed a quarter of an inch. at that point, i knew i wasn t going to be who this doctor said i was going to be.