Fatal

Part One: The Diagnosis

I was 18 months when my parents got the news. This diagnosis would be apart of me for the rest of my life well what little life I had. You might be wondering what it was, the illness to change my life for ever. Well I wont drag on like some other stories I had Cystic fibrosis more commonly known as CF. The way the doctors came to the conclusion that I did in fact have CF at such a young age was due to my weight. See one of the more commonly know symptoms was low weight even if the child or in my case toddler has a decent appetite. According to my mom and multiple doctors my appetite should of made me over weight but, I was only the size of an average 12 month baby. That symptom with several tests conformed that I had CF.

When I got older round the age of 10 it became more apparent that having CF was going to be more of a struggle. See as most kids my age do they start to show a love or interest in something for me that was soccer. On the field I felt like I could conquer anything that got in my way but unfortunately my parents saw that I was struggling with my breathing. They knew soccer was my passion so I stayed in soccer until the incident. One day at practice my breathing got so bad that I fainted safe to say that not only was my soccer career over for good. My parents being the responsible people that they are took me to the hospital to get a check up and to see if maybe I could get on an inhaler( apparently they were never told about how serious CF was). After my check up with the doctor he brought me in his office. That is when my heart dropped out of my chest, I've seen movies of things like this. I was waiting for him to tell that I was dying and to make my bucket list. Well it wasn't to far off.

Part Two: Its Fatal

I've always made jokes about death before because I knew it was going to happen to everyone at some point but at that moment in the doctors office alone while my parents waited in the other room it became the most real scary thing I every thought of. The doctor asked me if I knew anything about CF other then then my lung issues and lack of weight for my age. I shook my head no because I really wasn't told much except life was gonna be a little bit more hard for me and sports were gonna be more difficult because of my lack of deep breathes. I was handed a paper that said " How to live with a fatal life threatening illness". My heart just dropped even further. I continued reading " There is no known cure for CF" my eyes started to water. I was only 10 and I felt like my life is already flashing before my eyes. I kept reading until I got to " Most children who make it past the age of 18 usually only live until around their 30's". I stopped reading, I asked the doctor if I could be the one to tell my parents because if I didn't know they for sure had no idea.

At this point I wondered what if my parents did already know but they didn't want to think about their little girl only living for at most another 20 years. I told myself to think about it for a couple of days because, I just needed to understand why I had 20 years left, why out of the 7.5 billion people on this dumb rock in outer space did I have to die young. Looking back it was selfish of me to think that way but, at the age of 10 can you blame me. I never built up the courage to ask my parents if they knew I was gonna die before them and later I would find out they had no idea either.

As I got older I never forgot about that day at the doctors. My brain still trying to wrap my head around if I even make it past 18. At this point in my life I just had my 16th birthday and was more nervous then excited considering that more then half my life is already over. Most teenager think about what their gonna wear at prom or who their gonna kiss next but me I had to think what if this is my last breath that I'm ever gonna take. I know I should of talked to someone at the time about all of the things that went though my messed up mind but instead I wrote them in my journal to keep incase I needed them. Unfortunately for me the journal would be how my parents found out about how fatal my illness was.

Part Three: They Know

My parents didn't snoop though my belonging very much but when they did it was for a good reason. Apparently a teacher overheard me talking to myself about depression and got concerned enough to call my parents to let them know. I guess I was a little to loud with myself, something I fixed later on. When I got home they were sitting in the living room. My mom had a stereo-typical concerned mom face and my dad had his arm crossed. I honestly though they were going to kick me out of the house instead though my mom started to sob and my dad asked the question I was dreading " How long did you know you were going to die". My brain drew a blank. I couldn't think about anything but oh (cuss word) how did they find out, who told them, did they read my journal. My dad and mom just kept looking at me I honestly didn't know how to respond the only thing that came out of my mouth was "10". They sighed, I knew for 6 years and they had no idea that their daughter was going to be gone before them.

After that day two things changed. First I never kept a Journal again, what was the point of having all of my darkest thoughts on paper when someone was going to snoop through them. Second I lost trust in my parents and they lost trust in me. When I got done with school they picked me up, I wasn't allowed to have a single thought without telling them about at least when they were awake. At night was when I did all of my heavy thinking. I felt like a prisoner in my home.

Part Final: The Future?

When I finally turned 18 and graduated High school I was asked about my future career. I never really thought about that, I honestly didn't even think I would of made it to my 18th birthday let alone live to graduation. I pondered that question for so long, I still ponder it to this day. What am I going to do next. I'm currently 20 and I still ask myself this question. I'm still afraid that today I might be breathing my last breath even while I write this story I fear that this is my last sentence.

All I know is I do not plan on having children or getting married. What's the point if I'm gonna die in 10 years. I do wish to take back that day when I found out that my illness was fatal. I wish I would of had the courage to tell my parents that day instead of wait for them to find out by accident 6 years later. I wish I never withheld that information from that I would be more happy now. That would of gave me an Outlet for other mental issues I ended up having years later.

All I know about my future is I don't have any major plans. I don't have a Bucket list. I don't feel like I need to have a plan, I don't feel like anyone needs to have a plan if you wanna just let things happen and see where things go do it. Don't be afraid to speak out and tell your story.