As Maryn Cella lay down with her mother Annette for a nap earlier this month, she asked the question Annette had been thinking about for days -- "Mommy, what's wrong with me?"

There's a little ball in your head, Annette said, and we're trying to get it out. They decided it was a pink bouncy ball.

The pink ball helps Maryn understanding the terminal cancerous tumor growing around her brain stem. At her June diagnosis doctors estimated Maryn has between nine and 12 months to live, even with daily radiation therapy.

The tumor added a world of turmoil to Annette's already challenging schedule as a single mother of three. Now she's responsible for regular radiation therapy and doctor visits, special meals for a raw food diet, quality time with her three daughters, and her home.

She hopes for four to five hours of sleep per night, and relies on the support of friends.

"I've had amazing friends," Cella said. "I'm very, very blessed to have all the people that I've had in my life."

An experimental treatment at Burzynski Clinic in Houston --- in Phase Two of an FDA clinical trial -- is her last hope for a cure. So, Annette's focus has turned toward fundraising for the estimated $100,000 cost.

And that's where an unusual friendship has been particularly helpful.

In early July, Cella found Phil Norton's Web site in her frantic post-diagnosis research. Norton's son Braiden is nearing full recovery in Massachusetts after surgery and treatment at the Burzynski Clinic for a different type of brain tumor.

After reading about his tremendous fundraising success, Cella asked Norton for advice about raising money.

From across the country, Norton responded, and the two have been in touch regularly.

"The situation sounded desperate, so I gave her a call as soon as I could," Norton said.

Norton spent five months setting up fundraising for his son, and shared all the advice he knew with Cella.

Within two weeks her campaign was off the ground, and Cella is optimistic about raising $60,000 before Maryn's October appointment in Houston. She's depending on it to afford the $20,000 down payment, housing in Houston, and an ongoing $7,500 monthly payment for medication.

But even if she can afford the treatment, a full recovery is far from certain.

"Sadly enough, I think these children are guinea pigs," Cella said. While some children are saved, Cella said, the trials are really about helping sick children in the future.

Norton hopes this treatment will turn the coming days into some of Maryn's best, days she'll remember for a long time.

So, he gave Maryn a Barbie Jeep and arranged horse-riding lessons.

Other friends have contributed to Maryn's wish list too. Highlights include ballet lessons, and an upcoming trip to SeaWorld in Florida.

Beyond the challenges of fundraising and highlights of wish fulfillment, the daily reality of fighting her daughter's terminal illness weighs heavily on Cella.

"I think most people in her situation would not be able to pull themselves together," Norton said.

Cella struggles daily to live in the present, reconciling guilt about missed opportunities with fear about a deeply uncertain future.

Maryn's symptoms have shown dramatic improvement since March. They're likely to return, but Cella relishes her daughter's progress.

"I felt like I lost my child, I don't know where she went," Cella said. "But I feel like she's back."