"Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary."
There is an emotional apsect of a life-threatening illness that does as much damage to the soul as the tumors do to the body.
We've been told that cure, a true cure, will not be possible for another 20 years. We have also been told of all of the possible tumors that will invade Steven's body in the next twenty years, and we've listened to all of the unpleasant side effects that the tumors will induce. Yet we've been told that a cure, in the near future, is impossible.
And that sort of information, along with other "impossibilities" that we've been told, can rip bits of your soul, piece by piece, until a hole is left that is large enough for all hope to escape.
Today, on a day when I wasn't even thinking about VHL, I passed a score keeper at a baseball game. I really had no reason to pass this score keeper, as David wasn't even involved in the game on this particular field. Yet I passed this woman today, and I noticed that her t-shirt bore a message.
A message for me.
"Impossible is nothing."