I don’t really know what I should type, or how I should start, but after reading dozens of these posts, I realize I should share my thoughts on CAH.

I am a 19 year old college student from a suburban Detroit city. I was diagnosed with CAH at the age of 3, after my extremelly cautious mother noticed some pubic hair. Needless to say, I’ve been battling this disease all of my life.

I have experienced a brain psuedo tumor, countless sicknesses and a long stream of unstable health due to this crazy condition. Yet, I have learned more about myself than I ever thought possible.  In a really odd way, this disease has been a blessing.

After reading countless posts from caring and concerned parents, wondering what laid next on the road to recovery, I can’t help but think of my own past. Through my years, I am convinced my parents are real life Saints. They did everything they could to support me, hold my hand, and tell me everything would be okay one day, one day soon. After ten years or so, I began to have my doubts. Yet, after years of tests, years of funny looking machines and years of tears, I realized they were right. Life is wonderful now.

I guess my main advice to parents dealing with the unknown of CAH is to never forget about your child. This damn condition takes it’s toll on everyone and everything that it crosses. I thank God everyday that my parents treated me as they did. Not once did my parents lie to me about a procedure or decide not to share what was going to happen to me. They realized this battle was going to be won with the help of everyone, including my own strength.

I have come across hundreds of doctors in my 19 years. Some were wonderful human beings with hearts of gold. Others were, well, not so great. Children realize when doctors don’t like what they’re doing. Children also realize, more times than not, that they don’t really have a voice in the matter. Even though the later may be true, let the child have a voice in what’s going to happen. CAH is a unique disease to those who have never experienced it. Letting a child express his/her feelings will only help the matter.

Two years ago, my senior year in high school, I was finally given a clean bill of health from CAH. That day was a small victory for not just myself, but for every person in my family, doctor who had helped me and angel who had watched over my soul.

Of course, I still make the trek back to Detroit three times a month for a check-up, just to make sure my body is working up to par. (I also have my daily medicine of dexamethosono, a liquid type of the quite popular "cortef" and florinef, also quite popular from what I have read.) Oddly enough, my visit is to the children’s pediatric department, as a 19 year old, 240 pound football player from an Ohio college raises quite a few eyebrows.

Yet, I don’t mind. The endrocronolgy department is somewhat of a haven for myself there. I was in these children’s shoes not too long ago. Now, I’m a pre-law majoring fullback who’s soon to be engaged. Life is good.

For some of those children, I’ve been told I give a sense of hope. Truth be told, the opposite is true: they’ve touched me.

I owe my entire life to my parents, the greatest doctor on earth, Jose Cara M.D. (who undoubtedly will be invited to my wedding) and those little angels on my shoulder.

If anyone has any questions, do not hesitate to respond. Any help I can give will be from the heart. Thanks.