The Day My Life Changed

As I sat on the edge of the examination table waiting on the doctor to come into the room my mom tells me she is making my favorite tonight, beef stroganoff. I can’t tell whether she is making small talk because she is scared the doctor will give me bad news or if she is so certain there is nothing wrong with me that she is going about like it is a normal day. The walls are chock full of anatomical pictures of the skeletal system and muscle anatomy. Posters urging patients to “Wash your hands for at least 30 seconds” and “Cover your mouth when you cough”. But the one poster I cannot stop looking at and rereading is the one with the kitten hanging from a rope with the caption “Hang in there”. The image searing into my brain and message repeating in my mind. Hang in there is meant to inspire as the opposite, fall apart, is discouraging. Be strong not weak is the message being portrayed. To me it seemed like an instruction. So, I swallowed my fear, pushed back my emotions trying to leak out of my eyes, squared my shoulders, and lifted my chin a little higher as the doctor came into the room.

Now I suppose for me to move forward with an event that changed my life, I must pause and give a little background. I am a typical 18-year-old living in suburbia. It was September 2001, I had just graduated high school and was now in my first semester of college. The only worries I had were where the next party will be (usually my friend Heather’s), who will buy us booze, and how much weed do we have altogether. I openly admit that I tended to make bad decisions back then. But I had a plan. I wanted to fit in with the “cool” kids and party but I also knew I wanted to finish college, so I never let myself party too much. I always had a plan. I would graduate at 22, meet my soulmate at 24, get married at 26, and have my first child when I was 28. This should have been my year, the year I transform into an adult. However, life had other plans for me, I guess. My world was about to be rocked and I had no idea that the very life I was living was about to end.

My first year of college was not what I had originally envisioned. I was young, naïve, and very egocentric going into college but that was about to change. My sheltered life changed the second week of my first semester. News of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade towers had everyone on the college campus moving about in suspended fear. Was it over? Who would do this? Isn’t the United States the safest country to be in? How could this happen? Is there really that kind of evil in the world? The world seemed a little harsher and darker. I learned about evil and the hate these terrorists spew. I understood that tomorrow is never guaranteed. I saw my country come together united and strong in the face of such a heinous act. We set aside our own prejudices and judgements to come together as one. I felt stronger because of that. Some difficult classes and an absurd amount of coursework no longer felt impossible. The rest of the semester flew by and I got better grades than I anticipated.

Little did I know that 9/11 would not be the only life altering event of my first year in college. I started the second semester strong and I felt a little more confident going into my classes. I had mostly figured out how to balance 4 classes, work part-time, and still have a social life. Then the fateful day came when I felt a lump on the back of my neck along my hairline. I told my mom about the lump and in typical overprotective parent fashion she made an appointment with my primary care doctor. During that appointment I was told the lump was most likely a swollen lymph node which is not usually serious, however the reason behind it being swollen could potentially be serious. After two different rounds of bloodwork and a few false positives I found myself back in the doctor’s office to hear my results. That was the day my life changed forever. I had to accept that my life would be different, and I had to find a new normal. Lupus? What is that? How is my life going to change? Am I going to die prematurely because of this disease? Will anyone want to date a sick person? Will I ever be able to start a family? I am sure there were a million other questions going through my mind when I was sitting on that doctor’s table with the paper making crinkling noises every time I shifted my body. But I did not hear anything the doctor said after lupus and my mind did not retain all the questions or thoughts swirling in my head. All I knew in that moment was that my mom would need me to be strong because she was falling apart overhearing my diagnosis. I knew I could not break down and cry because then she would feel worse. My strength would get us through this journey I promised myself.

I have tried to be strong for everyone else every day since that fateful day. Often brushing off my symptoms, dismissing my fatigue, and minimizing my pain (usually with a joke or sarcasm). “Oh yeah I am fine. It only hurts when I breath” then follow that statement up with a chuckle so people think I am being lighthearted and joking about my chronic health issues. The truth is that I don’t want to burden my friends or family with how much is really going on internally within my body. What good would come out of my mom knowing that my chest feels like I have been stabbed repeatedly with a searing hot fireplace poker? Why is it necessary for my sister to know that it feels like I gurgled then swallowed acid? I don’t want other to pity me or treat me differently because I have a chronic illness. That is why I find it easier to keep the hard stuff in and only tell others what they can handle hearing. It is true my life changed completely in one day but it has made me a warrior and I am proud of myself for all that I have accomplished since that day.