The View from My Chair

It really was an ordinary chair, dark paisley plastic, easily cleaned between patients. But to me it was a battleground. For eight straight hours, two days a month, I was chained to it, not with cuffs but an IV; I was fighting for my life.

Why should sitting in a semi-comfortable chair for eight hours be more tiring than working for the same eight-hour stretch? All I was doing was sitting there reading or watching TV, if I would lucky enough to get a chair in front of a TV. It should seem like the easiest thing ever, a vacation, taking it easy while everyone else was at work. But it wasn't easy, it was exhausting. I was fighting a war against my immune system, hoping and praying that this treatment, this hail Mary, would help me get healthy again, be normal again.

Each month would start out the same way, with my two-day "Vacation" in the infusion center. I would arrive promptly at 8 AM and stop by the nurses’ station to find out where I would be sitting that day. Once I got to my cubicle, I would take off my jacket and wait for the nurse to come and put in my IV. She always tried to be quick, but I never got used to being stuck. She would chatter about anything to try and distract me while putting, what felt like the world’s biggest needle in my forearm. I appreciate that she tried to make it better. I was very lucky; the nurses were always so nice and cheerful. The line that she placed in my arm would remain there in there for the next 48 hours.

I'm in a good place right now and I'm so thankful for that. But I also know that I've earned it, fought for it like a prize fighter. It's been the hardest fight of my life, because the enemy looked at me out of the mirror every morning. I've had to battle my body and for a while it seemed like I was losing the fight. If it wasn't for my fiancée, I would have lost the fight. He fought for me when I quit fighting, when I gave up, when I was too weak to even try. He got me out of bed, helped me shower, and made me eat. He saw the rawest, weakest version of me that I managed to keep from everyone else. I tried to put my affairs in order because I truly believed that I was going to die and he refused to listen, refused to believe it was even a possibility. In some ways I think his stubbornness kept me alive.

It was thanks to my fiancé, family, doctors and God that I am standing here today. A year ago, I didn't think that I would see 26, and now I'm happy, healthy, going back to school and starting a family. I’m kind of terrified to think about the future with trying to handle my illness while having a child. But it's going to give me even more reason to fight to get better and I look forward to it. I think I’ll make a good mom. There will be some challenges along the way and it's not going to be easy, but I am determined to be the best mom and wife that I can be and enjoy every second of it, even the crazy chaotic parts of life. I believe in the saying If it's meant to be then it will happen.” There’s no telling how my story will end.