She was just a little girl, but I saw myself in her. I saw myself suffer as she suffered. I saw myself hold on because she held on. I saw myself become hopeful because she was hopeful. I saw myself smile because she smiled. I saw her save me through her bravery.

Eden has Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS), the same genetic illness as I have. It’s rare; Eden is one of the only people I know with my condition. Ironically, our skulls decided to fall on top of our brain stems at the same time. A week after doctors first found out I had brain-stem compression, I heard Eden was getting surgery for the same problem. To the average person, this coincidence may seem strange. It may also seem strange that we had the same doctors and needed the same surgery. But anyone with our condition would understand. With EDS, our problems are predictable. But it’s still like a roller coaster. You get in line for the ride and then when you go upside down, you’re still shocked and cannot stop yourself from screaming. I’d given up any hope that this ride would come to an end. The doctors told me,“Well if we fix you now, you’ll just be back on the OR table in a month. You will still fall over. We can only stop it from getting worse. We cannot reverse the damage.”

I didn’t want to see any more doctors; I didn’t not want to even try. I was scared, and I didn’t know what to do. Eden and I were in the same situation — except she was 7 and I was 13. I’d given up, and she had not. I’d given up smiling, I’d given up laughing, I’d given up living.

Eden saved my life. Because she made me want to fight again.

The day I visited her in the hospital, we talked; she smiled and laughed. She held my hand and said, “You will be OK because I’m OK.” I looked into her eyes and saw nothing but strength. I saw a little girl with her own problems who still cared about others. I saw a real superhero.

One of the biggest challenges in having a chronic illness is that many people cannot even begin to understand what it’s like. I knew I could die at any moment, I knew I could become paralyzed. I felt like the world didn’t care. That day, Eden showed me you only needed the little things. In many way, she made me feel like a fool. I’d been worrying about how other people saw my struggles and their judgments. Eden proved to me that none of that matters. The only thing that mattered was that we had each other. The only thing that mattered was that we could hold each other’s hands.

The screws in my brain, the surgeon, the doctors, the nurses, they all take credit for saving my life. But in reality, Eden is the one who saved me.

The Mighty is asking its readers the following: Describe the moment someone changed the way you think about disability and/or disease. If you’d like to participate, please send a blog post to [email protected] Please include a photo for the piece, a photo of yourself and 1-2 sentence bio.