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1、生命不完美 ,奋斗才精彩The doctor cleared his throat. “Im sorry ， but I have bad news.”That s when Pat began to cry. Her baby was a year old， and he hadn t started crawling yet.“Your son has a 1)neuromuscular disorder called 2 )Spinal Muscular Atrophy ，” the doctor said.“ What s going to happen to him？” she ma
2、naged to say“ Where most children grow stronger as they get older ， your son is going to get weaker. Hell lose the ability to move. Hell lose the ability to breathe on his own. And one day ， he ll catch an infection that will spread into his 3 ) respiratorytI ”system, giving him severe pneumonia She
3、 held up her hand to stop him. “Youre saying he is going to die？”He paused.He nodded. “There are three types of SMA. Caught this early， your son almost certainly has Type I. Most children with Type I die of pneumonia before the age of two.”I m sorry.Pat looked up into his face and saw that he really
4、 was sorry.It made her angry. Not because of his pity ， but because in this man s eyes， her baby was already dead.“ Don t be sorry ，” Pat said， wiping tears away from her face. Her voice was suddenly very calm. ”He isnt going to die. ”“Its important you understand the situation ， Mrs.Morrow. The pne
5、umonia he won t be able to fight it. ”“He won t have to，” she said. “I ll fight it for him. ”Over the next 16 years， I had pneumonia 16 times. But I never died. It sounds strange to say it， but my mother wouldn t let it happen.She 4)orchestrated a team of more than a dozen doctors. She slept in a ch
6、air beside me in the hospital， sometimes for as many as 30 days in a row. She pounded my chest and back every two hours to loosen the 5)mucus， covering my chest and back with bruises.Today， at 27 years old， I m one of the oldest people in the world with my type of SMA ， and people tell me it s a mir
7、acle. And I agree， it is. But the miracle isn t just me. It s a mother who fought like only a mother can to keep me alive.By “alive，” I don t mean just “not dead，” either. You d think my mother would have been satisfied for me to live at home， tucked away from the world where she could protectme， bu
8、t for her ，that wasnt living. She insisted that I be great. When my elementary school principal decided that disabled children didn t have a place in her school， my mom appealed to the school board and turned every board member s life into a living hell for two years.She won.When I could no longer p
9、ick up a pencil ， she arranged for honors students at local colleges to help me with my homework after school. I graduated at the age of 16 ， not only near the top of my class ， but with college credit.If you re a mother， none of these things surprise you. Some mothers are weak， sure， but the vast m
10、ajority fight for their children ，especially when those children are 6 )defenseless. Its not because theyre trying to be heroes. Its because that s their job.Growing up ，I always had to fight to get people to listen to me.The worst part about being disabled isn t the pain or the struggle but how the
11、 world tries to shove you into a corner and pretend that you dont exist. After all ，what could you possibly have to contribute ？ You re going to die soon ， poor thing.They don t 7)proactively hold you back ， no， but they don t expect you to succeed either. I ve spent my entire life fighting against
12、the weight of those expectations.Like when university professors were 8 ) flabbergasted when， on the first day ， I asked my attendant to raise his hand， so I could answer the question that no one else could.Or the vaguely 9 ) constipated look on the face of a venture capitalist when I asked for $500
13、 ， 000 of startup capital for my first software company.Their disbelief has never stopped me ， of course. It s not a matter of persistence or strength or attitude ， as some people think. It s a matter of shame.How could I possibly look my mother and father and all of the others who have sacrificed s
14、o much for me in the eye and tell them， “I can t？” I couldn t bear it. The shame of dishonoring their sacrifice by giving up would poison my soul.If my mother could ignore a doctor who would condemn me to death， then I can ignore my inner demons who tell me I ll never make it as a writer.If my mothe
15、r could demand that I achieve straight As in school， then I can demand greatness from every blog post I publish.If my mother could 10 ) lobby school administrators and government agencies to get me the help I needed， then I can lobby bloggers and social media power users to get my idea the attention
16、 it deserves.If you want to succeed ， you can t wait for the world to give you attention the way a 11 )cripple waits for food stamps to arrive in the mail. You have to be a warrior. You have to attack with the madness of a mother whose child is surrounded by an army of 12 )predators.You cant just write them downand expect them to succeed. Writing isn t a
