She suffers from a disease so rare only 500 other cases have been recorded worldwide.

She suffered years of multiple seizures and, once in her teens, was within an hour of having a heart attack before a doctor realized what was happening.

Rebecca Lauber, 23, certainly has had a tough life so far, but spend a half-hour with her and you'd never guess. She's so positive and bounces back from adversity so well, rubber balls should be envious.

Lauber has an extremely rare condition called autoimmune polyglandular syndrome, which causes her body's infection-fighting systems to attack her organs instead of protecting them. It's caused by a mutation of a crucial gene she got from both her parents, who are carriers of the defect yet do not suffer any ill effects. No one else in Lauber's family is affected, although an aunt has lupus, another autoimmune disorder.

Lauber was born with the condition, but doctors were mystified about what was wrong with her until she turned 6 in 2001. As a child she had multiple seizures. Doctors treated her for epilepsy.

Eventually, after dozens of blood tests, one doctor at Dover Air Force Base in her native Delaware noticed her abnormally high calcium levels and acted on a hunch. He told her mother that unless she was taken to a hospital right then and there, she'd die.

Lauber was airlifted to Children's Hospital in Philadelphia where physicians finally were able to unravel the mystery.

Lauber's family has a strong tradition of military service. Family members have served in every branch except the Marines. In high school, she excelled in ROTC activities and applied to enlist. She was rejected because of her disease.

That caused a prolonged bout of deep depression, Lauber told me. Yet she bounced back and decided to start a new chapter of life in a new state.

Today, Lauber, who moved to Florida a year ago and lived briefly in St. Lucie West, holds down a job as an emergency medical technician at the Cleveland Clinic in Weston, near Boca Raton.

Until about 18 months ago, doctors had to closely monitor her calcium and electrolyte levels, which could fluctuate dangerously without warning.

Dr. Michael Levine, chief of the division of endocrinology and diabetes at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, finally figured out what was wrong with Lauber. She still flies to see him three times a year.

She showed signs of hypoparathyroidism, Levine told me.

"There are four parathyroid glands within the thyroid gland that regulate the level of calcium and phosphates," Levine explained. "When I first met her she had abnormal calcium and phosphate levels and hair loss, so I thought these might be the effects of a syndrome."

In those days, Levine said, treatment consisted of using vitamin D and calcium. Lab tests revealed that a parathyroid hormone was missing.

"She did reasonably well," he said, but when a hormone replacement drug called Natpara became available 18 months ago, she started taking it.

It has transformed Lauber's life. One injection a day now manages her disease. Yet, at $100,000 a year, Natpara is horribly expensive. Her hospital medical insurance completely covers her expenses.

"She's had a very challenging life, but she has a very optimistic attitude," Levine said.

She does indeed. Lauber's dream is to become an advocate for children like her who suffer from rare diseases. She understands that often they have no one to share their experiences with, and how incredibly frustrating and lonely that can be.

Lauber, who now lives in Jupiter, is a fitness buff. Looking at her, you'd never guess she has a life-threatening condition. She oozes enthusiasm and positivity.

She's studying for her EMT certification at Palm Beach State College in West Palm Beach. Yet her dream job is to be a role model and fitness inspiration for children like her in a hospital setting.

Levine described Lauber as a fighter.

"In many chronic diseases, (success) is based on attitude," he said. "A 'whiny' attitude is common, and that's not good. Or you can be Rebecca's way. She's a fighter, she's positive and she derives a great deal of satisfaction from helping others. She has decided she won't be controlled by her disease."

Maybe one day researchers will come up with a cure for Lauber's condition. For now, she's able to manage her disease and live an active and fulfilling life. She can be earnest, forthright and passionate — and then dissolves into giggles.

She's a rubber ball who makes the old saying about mind over matter, well, really matter.

Anthony Westbury is a columnist for TCPalm. This column reflects his opinion. Contact him at 772-221-4220, anthony.westbury@tcpalm.com, or follow him @TCPalmWestbury on Twitter.