Share a Coke With…

It hit me in the middle of the checkout line at Marshall’s. I was thirsty. As thirsty as a camel. I couldn’t wait another minute to get something to drink. But four days before Christmas, the place was packed. The line? Moving like molasses. Just ahead, though, I saw something by the registers, like a mirage in the desert. A refrigerator of drinks. I abandoned my cart and headed straight to it, only one thought on my mind—getting an ice-cold Coca-Cola.

I needed the pick-me-up. And not just because of thirst. It hadn’t been the easiest holiday season. My neurofibromatosis—a condition that causes benign tumors to grow all over my body—had resurfaced with a vengeance. I’d had seven surgeries in the past year alone to remove tumors from my face and