Clad in jeans and a baseball cap, he is the typical Penn State student, complaining about walking to class in the snow and grumbling about studying apes in an 8 a.m. biology class.

Looking at his bright, optimistic eyes, you get the feeling he has lived a lot longer than 22 years.

As he takes off his hat, he reveals a small bare spot on his neck, something that distinguishes Chris Petruny from other students.

In November of 1992 as Pi Kappa Phi fraternity, 409 E. Fairmount Ave., house chairman, he was gearing up for the 1993 Interfraternity Council/Panhellenic Dance Marathon. But he never dreamed he would be fighting the same battle thousands of children who benefit from the Four Diamonds Fund are fighting.

"It's tough when you're dealing with a disease like this," Chris said.

Chris (junior-exercise and sport science) was diagnosed with a fatal brain tumor, astrocytoma glioblastoma, in November 1992. Of the 7,000 estimated reported cases, there is a 2 percent survival rate of 12 months.

On Nov. 19, he woke up at about 3 a.m. disoriented and complaining of a severe headache. He stumbled down the steps of his fraternity house and entered the kitchen. The pain was so intense that he asked another member to take him to Centre Community Hospital. It was the second week in a row Chris was taken to the hospital for a headache.

A CAT scan located a large tumor on his brain, and Chris went home to Bethlehem, to his concerned parents, brother and girlfriend Christina.

Because of the tumor's size and proximity, a biopsy was the choice. Doctors would supplement the biopsy -- the examination of tissues, cells or fluids for diagnostic purposes -- with radiation and chemotherapy treatments.

"I was kind of psyching myself up mentally to fight this cancer," he said. "I'm not the type of person to just quit. I didn't let the cancer devastate me at first."

He added that his brother bought him Deepak Chopra's book Quantum Healing, Exploring the Frontiers of Mind/Body Medicine.

But then, in 1992 just before Christmas, Chris met with an oncologist -- a tumor specialist. Then his positive attitude changed.

"He became very depressed and we weren't very sure why," said Pat Petruny, Chris' father. The oncologist told Chris the hard facts about his tumor, about chemotherapy and the treatments' side effects.

"I was totally spooked," he said, remembering how he began to shake uncontrollably at every word.

His father said Chris wasn't in the right state of mind to begin the treatments. He was scared, he stopped talking -- but worse, Chris stopped reading the book. Psychologically, the tumor seemed to be winning.

His father said Chris, depressed and anxious, was then moved to the hospital's psychiatric ward.

On Jan.27, 1993, the Greek community was less than a month away from dance marathon and Chris came down with a fever caused by the tumor pressing on his thalmus, the part of the brain that controls body temperature.

That night Chris slipped into a coma. On Feb. 1, an MRI determined that the tumor had enlarged. Doctors said Chris, now some 30 pounds lighter, would die. The signs were bad. The family prepared for the worst by making funeral arrangements and their parish priest came to the hospital.

But Feb. 13, after 17 days in a coma, Chris woke up -- six days before dance marathon.

"It was almost as if I heard them talking about my funeral and I was pissed off," Chris said.

A nurse, who had her back turned to Chris, was in the room when he woke up. "The first thing I asked was, 'Can you get me a toothbrush?' She jumped out of her feet," he said.

The entire time, the Pi Kappa Phi fraternity members' hearts and minds were with Chris and his family. Members visited while he was in the coma, and Chris remembers at one point hearing and seeing some fraternity members.

"I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't. It's very hard to describe, let alone have somebody believe it," he said.

Visits weren't enough for the Pi Kappa Phi members. They decided to do all they could to make last year's dance marathon special.

"We really wanted to be the top money raiser," said Chad Skorupka, one of Chris' best friends and former roommate. With $224,822 raised, Pi Kappa Phi and Alpha Chi Omega sorority, 101 Hibbs, almost succeeded -- they placed second.

Extensive physical therapy helped Chris on his way. His father said "little by little" Chris regained his strength and motor skills and his speech improved --today his speech is perfect.

Now every five weeks, his parents drive from Bethlehem to take him to the National Institute of Health in Bethesda, Md., for treatments.

"They're 100 percent involved in my treatment," he said, "I have a very close family and this brought us even closer together."

But aside from the treatments, his life is almost the same. He enjoys seeing his friends at parties and said he is not supposed to drink, but laughingly admits, "a little nip here and there is OK." He even tried skiing again during winter break.

Chris no longer lives at the fraternity, saying he needs rest and a quiet atmosphere. But Chris hasn't changed, said Skorupka (senior-international politics).

Skorupka said the hardest part for him was trying to accept that his best friend could die.

"He's got a long road ahead of him, but obviously he's on his way," he said.

This semester Chris is taking seven credits, but fighting the disease has changed Chris' career plans. He wanted to work in sports medicine and now he wants to help people with problems similar to his own.

Chris knows his limit. His doctor told him a canning trip for this year's dance marathon was out of the question.

"I'm here at school, but I'm still a cancer patient," he said. "It's not over yet."