This is the start of my story,or as much as I want to recap anyways. My childhood was much more than average. Children's National Medical Center was in a major way, my home. It was the only place I went where I felt safe, I knew everyone, and that's where my friends were. At the time, I didn't know what was wrong with me, I just did what I was told. Nebulizer treatments, pulmonary function tests, pills and picclines, and that every 3 month clinic appointment consumed my life. I never understood why I had to take a suitcase full of clothes to my doctors office, or why at lunch at school I had to drink these funny shakes when everyone else ate normal food. I never realized that I was different until one specific day. While in the backseat of my mother's car one day, I went to scream in pain and realized I couldn't breathe. We rushed to a family members and I was yanked out of the car. I can remember laying out on the yard, nebs being forced in my face, the sounds of the sirens as firefighters and emts come to the rescue and when I woke up asking why is this happening?
Fast forward. 19 years old. Sitting in a pulmonary clinic. The doctor has finally confirmed that I have CF, a gene disorder with many different complications. I am now singled into a group of only 70,000 people that have this disease. There aren't many words to say when you hear the news. You wonder how your life is going to change...you wonder how people will see you differently,how you will see yourself differently...but most importantly you ask yourself why is this happening to me?