On the morning of May 19th, 1993, I came downstairs after getting ready to go to school. My sister Mollie was sitting on the couch waiting for my mother to give her some medicine (children's Advil). My parents thought she had the common flu. She looked pale and about to throw up. Not wanting to go to school like any good kid I said to her "You're lucky." Striking back she said "No, I'm not." Looking back on it I wish I hadn't spoken those words. A short time later her lips turned purple and skin bleach white. What was to come I consider the end of my sisters life.

At the hospital they tried taking her blood but were unable to because it was too thick. The nurse gave her more childrens advil which in time made her condition worse. In a short while she developed blisters and rashes all over her body. She was put in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) where there were countless machines keeping her alive. After about a weeks time she was put in the burn unit as if she had burns from a fire, but the allergic reaction was the cause of her third degree burns. Later that night my mother was sitting with my sister listening to the reassuring beep...beep...beep of the heart rate monitor. My sisters body let go of it's grip on life. Hearing the flat line my mother pressed the red emergency call button that she had only glanced at hoping she would never have to touch it. Doctors and nurses rushed in to revive her. Back and forth she went from the burn unit to ICU. As soon as her condition improved it worsened.

It was always the same pattern entering ICU. Wash your hands with warm water and soap. Then put on medical mask and gloves. I was an 11 year old boy who had to do this just to watch my sister through a glass door of an isolation room. Her whole body wrapped in gauze to stop the bleeding blisters. The burn unit was the same. I remember sitting in her burn unit room watching two therapists lift her up and try to sit her in a wheelchair. Drops of blood falling to the ground originating from her burnt flesh. Her head had been shaved and blisters lined her body. All she could do is cry because her vocal cords had been burned, but I'm sure she was trying to scream out "Stop, it hurts." I was forced to leave thinking how this freakish transformation took place.

After five long months in the hospital she was able to come home. Our living area transformed into that of a hospital room. It had a ventilator for her tracheotomy, iv stand, stomach tube stand, heart rate monitor, and medications galore. Therapists came over everyday for her therapies. A nurse always by her side giving her care. Surgeries almost every other week to stretch her esophagus, ligaments in her feet and hands, and cornea surgery.

Before SJS, Mollie was a committed dancer. She loved dancing. She was suppose to perform in the opening show for the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta. She also auditioned for Show Stoppers and made it to the Nationals but was not able to go because she got sick. She won countless awards and beauty pageants. Mollie took lessons from the dance instructor that taught the Denver Broncos Cheerleaders. She even got me to try dance lessons, but being the hard-headed and stubborn kid I was I quit within a week. I was a sissy when it came to following through with things and she was the complete opposite. The room where she use to practice her dance moves, aerials, and back flips had now become her rehabilitation center.

Today my sister Mollie cannot walk, see, or talk very well. She is fed through a stomach tube and it's hard for her to breath. 100% of her body was burned from the inside out and the scars on her skin still remain. My mother has become a nurse so she is able to take care of her. Since the healthcare budget cut my sister is not able to receive any more therapies. There is also limited funding for stem cell research which could improve my sisters condition if perfected. Stem cells could help my sister see again. Mollie is smart, quick witted, and remembers things from our childhood that I don't even remember. I love my sister.

Everyone needs to be aware of the potential for disaster this drug has. I, for one, have never taken any drug containing ibuprofen in fear that I will develop the same allergic reaction. Every time I go to any medical clinic I make sure they know that I am allergic to ibuprofen. I'm not taking any chances and neither should you. So, next time you're handed any drug containing ibuprofen remember, "You're lucky."