[ Hence his stature. Hell, 4'9" is the very tallest he could manage without killing himself, and even that height is really too tall to be truly comfortable. Gone are the days of whole-body inflammatory attacks, but some nights he still wakes up remembering how sore his bones had been growing up. Hideous, omnipresent aching pain. ]

They all were. Any one of them could have killed me. And each time my parents had to choose between my present and my future.

[ Which surgeries were viable. Whch were necessary. And which tortures they needed to subject their tiny son to in hope of making him stronger in the future. ]