Three Years and Going Strong

It was the summer before my junior year of high school, and it finally felt like everything was falling into place. I turned sixteen, and I was practically an adult. I was growing taller, thinner, and more attractive. I thought my hair was perfect. I was finally moving past all the petty drama with my group of friends. And I met a boy, and it just felt like the whole world was on my side. Don't you know that feeling? Where you feel like everyone's rooting for you? Even the people you don't know? I was going to be an upperclassman, and no one could stop me.

And it's funny too. I swear to fucking god this happened. One day, I was feeling this way, and I stopped to think: Wow. I'm so lucky. I don't even know how I got this lucky. I'm healthy, pretty good-looking, I have parents who love me, and a roof over my head. I have friends and people I can trust and rely on. I wasn't really born with any disadvantage. I'm so happy too. I'm so happy nothing bad happened to me. And I took a moment to say thank you. And I don't really know what prompted it. It might have been something really stupid. But it still happened.

You know what though? I wasn't that great of a person. I was quick to hate and slow to forgive. And I was spoiled. I think I was. Sometimes I could be sweet, but I think deep down, all I wanted was to be popular. I didn't act out too much, or do anything outlandish, but I didn't truly appreciate life. I really don't think I did. I'm a believer in the idea that you can't really appreciate something unless you've experienced the exact opposite first. And that's exactly what happened.

Five years ago, I got sick. My kidneys shut down. People told me I was the bravest person they knew. I always thought, what other choice is there? I can give up, or I can keep trying.

Four years ago, I was diagnosed with an illness called Wegener's Granulomatosis.

And three years ago, my brother stepped forward. And my life was saved.

Everything got started at 8:00 AM. I don't think I have ever slept so terribly in my life. It was like trying to sleep on Christmas Eve, except one thousand times more intense. Finally, it all started happening. And they wheeled me downstairs, and they prepped me for surgery.

"Alright, careful," the nurse eyed me with a smile, "This is going to feel like you drank a whole six pack all at once." I laughed.

"I think I can handle it. Bring it on." They gave me the injection, and it all hit me like a sack of really comfortable pillows. I laid back, and my head fell heavy on the bed. They wheeled me into the operating room. I don't remember anything else.

And then, it was like no time passed. Not even a split second. But in that lapse of a moment. In that span of no time whatsoever, everything happened. My entire life was given back to me, more or less. It was going to be a long road to recovery, but everything started that day. My brother was the catalyst for the moment that everything started to go right.

It's kind of surreal to think about the operation itself. I just have trouble imagining that I was open on the operating table. Of course I have the scar, and I see the evidence. But it's too weird to imagine myself exposed on the table. To have doctor's sterile hand digging inside me. To have live tissue implanted into my system. It's hard to believe it happened.

And all of that happened in less time than it takes to blink, from my experience. It's funny though, the farther away in time you get from something, the more like an eye blink it seems like anyway.

And from there, it only got better. It was a hard recovery, but I pushed through it. It was like the end of the most exhausting and difficult race ever conceived, and I knew it wasn't the time to give up. And I pushed. Hard. And I learned so much about myself, even after the transplant. And I made it. I finally got back to where I was when I was sixteen, but I grew exponentially more on the inside. And I could feel it. I didn't need to be popular anymore. I needed to take good care of myself and feel good.

And now, here I am. I can't believe it's been three years already. It feels like no time has passed. Not even a split second. All I know now, is that I value everything so much more. I'm just thankful to feel normal. Shitty days happen, but you can go to sleep and wash them off in the morning. When you feel like shit, there's no escape. You want to wish it's a dream every single day. But it never is. Shitty things can happen all the time, but it's not an excuse to stop feeling great. And why focus on what's wrong when you can focus on what's right? Something may go bad, but it can go so much worse.

I learned that I'm a strong person, but I'll always need the love, the help, the support of my family and friends. You're not going to go anywhere unless you have people to carry you when you get tired. I honestly don't think I could be happier right now. I feel so surrounded by positivity and joy, from the people I know and love the best. I feel the sunshine. I'm taking the best care of my body, and my body is taking care of me back.

Right now? Everything is love. Every moment is love. Even when it doesn't feel like it.