I'm 32 years old, and when I was about 10, I realized I was different from all my friends. I didn't understand what was wrong until one day, I was racing the other students. I was so happy I had placed 1st. I DROPPED DOWN when I crossed that finish line and couldn't breathe. I couldn't catch my breath, and all I remember was asking for my bag with an inhaler. I took a couple of puffs and could finally take slower, deeper breaths. Later that day, when I got home from school, I told my parents what had happened to me, and I asked them why didn't anyone else fall out after the race. Why did I have such a hard time doing any activities? They looked at each other And bad to me and said, "sissy" you only have one lung. I wasn't completely understanding what that meant and what it had to do with me and running. They explained that when I was 18 months old, I got very ill and had to have emergency surgery for a cyst on my lung. They removed the lower left lobe of my lung. The doctor told my parents I would not be a very active child due to the breathing complications I would endure. They told my parents I couldn't do anything with sports without an asthma attack. Eighteen years later, I was the most athletic in high school, captain of five sports, and the fastest girl in the county. God is good, and living with one lung has been a challenge, but I'm here alive and still breathing.