On June 20, 2006, my Miami Heat was to win the NBA championship.

Before I could watch the game I had one more mission, to guard The Iraqis' refueling their trucks.

One guy tried to steal some fuel, so I walked toward him.

His truck exploded and caught my uniform on fire. I asked the Iraqis for help. I pounded myself on the ground. The grass was dry, so that didn't help. I ran to the front gate. When my squad leader saw me, he was shocked. I said, “If I don't make it, tell my wife and son how much I love them.”

I woke up at Brooke Army Medical Center, my whole family by my side. I knew my father did not have a visa, so I though I was back home in Colombia. I thought, “Oh, since they did not need me anymore, they sent me back.”

I was wrong. They were doing everything they could to save my life.

That is when the second battle began. It was painful to walk. I was burned over 77% of my body. My son only was three years old, he could not be in the ICU. I would do my best to get up and go see him.

So many days I prayed to God to take me. Now I know he keeps me here for a reason.

Life is 10% what happens to me
and 90% how I react to it
And so it is with you...