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Growing up, I was in and out of trouble in group homes and other institutions, and when I was 14, I was locked up in a psychiatric hospital for a number of months for behavioral problems.

Tranquilizers work only if you follow the advice on the bottle - keep away from children.

I was really proactive in trying to heal my family. I wouldn't give up. My whole life was about trying to get my father healthier, and there were moments when he was healthier. Then someone would give him a drink. I always felt if he had one person in his life who supported his healthy side, he'd be on his way.

When my father died, I was 21, and he'd been sick for a few years. He changed during his illness. He kind of softened during it.

I came up in a family oriented towards the sick, so I always felt an obligation for doing something.

When I was 11, I spent eight months in the hospital with rheumatic fever and almost died.

When I had bone cancer, I was just 11 years old. I think my parents suffered a lot because they worried about my health, my life, so much. For me, it was quite bad feeling during the treatment. But I quite enjoyed staying in the hospital because so many kids played with me.

When I was 14, my mother died. My father, who had always had ulcers, came apart. He had a series of intestinal operations, and was in the hospital for nearly a year. So the four of us teenagers lived by ourselves in the apartment without a guardian.

I was so unhealthy as a child, and at least three or four times my parents were told to get ready, that I would not make it.