As a young child, I received 3rd degree burns over most of my body. My prognosis for survival was if God see fit for her to live, then she will. The doctors asked my parents to sign me over to the hospital for care, because some of the procedures performed were experimental and may need to be done at any time and trying to locate and obtain consent from my parents would be too time consuming and may risk my life. If I survived then they have to be prepared for the possibility that I may not be able to walk or use my arms again and my mental state was a factor; I may become depressed, withdrawn and suicidal. After many surgeries, blood transfusions, a coma, and respiratory therapy, I survived the burns; then came the physical therapy, to regain the use of my hands, arms and legs. Physical Therapy began in the hospital and then on outpatient bases three days a week for months and finally once a week for another year. I estimate it took close to two years for me to regain full use of my arms and legs, with some weakness in both, I was able to walk again, comb my hair and put on my own clothes.The hardest thing for me during this ordeal was the loneliness and isolation in my hospital room; many children came, went and some even died and at times my only constant friends were the people in the clouds. My bed was placed next to the window, where I laid flat on my back for many weeks, looking up and out of the window at the clouds. After awhile the clouds would take on forms of people and animals, and I could visualize many events happening in those clouds. Thus the loving, devotion and kindness of the nurses, doctors, staff, and my parents were sometimes my only contact with the outside world. My hospital room did not have a working television set. Well as all of you see I survived my ordeal, grew up and had a regular life, just like every other normal person; I became a