I typically ponder on an unusual question, one question that many teenagers don’t think about on a daily basis. That question is “am I able to eat that, or will I have another reaction?” I was healthy all of my life, and in my eyes I pictured myself as a healthy baby, child, and teenager. Of course, I was smaller than most people my age, but I would eat everything I could without getting sick. My luck changed dramatically when I became lactose intolerant in August 2012. I was 15 years old when this began to occur. To many people, that doesn’t seem that bad because there are pills that one could take in order to reduce the outcome of how badly the reaction would be. But pills didn’t work for me; my body would reject everything I consumed. This seems terrible, but it was my life, and I continued to stay as positive as I could possibly be. I knew I had to stay strong, not just for myself, but for my little brother. I couldn’t let him see me that sick. How could he handle watching his role model be in pain? He knew he couldn’t save me, or even help me for that matter, yet he stayed by my side.

You’re probably wondering how someone as tiny as I am would not be able to consume any dairy; well, my luck continued to worsen when I became allergic to bread, eggs, juice, fruit, and basically everything. This wasn’t my ideal way of spending my prime teenage years. Of course, I was scared. I mean, could you blame me? I began to have rapid weight loss, I would break out in serious rashes, and my mother was on the phone with my pediatrician at least three times a day. At this point, I was terrified about getting seriously sick like usual, but I was scared of the judgment of my peers. I was scared of the ridicule, the bullying, the laughing, and the pointing. I knew I had to stay strong, but how could I when I would be faced with that obstacle which I couldn’t escape nor avoid? Life was becoming a constant battle between internal and external conflicts, and I couldn’t decipher which one was worse.

Yet despite my challenges with food, I began to experience the world of tofu and organic foods. I was relieved that I could finally eat again, and the food was delicious! My cramps weren’t intense, I wasn’t having reactions, and I wasn’t as sick! But there was one major problem: tofu and organic food is typically expensive, and my parents couldn’t always buy me that type of food, so I was back to having reactions. What I experienced during a reaction is the lower left side of my abdominal area would hurt, and I mean the most intense pain that I have ever experienced. I would later find out that I was having a serious spasm in that area. I would have acid reflux; I have found out I suffer from gastritis, or acid reflux disorder. I would get extremely bloated to the point where I thought my stomach would explode. But the scariest issue that I faced while having a reaction would be how bad my breathing would get; I would be gasping for air. I thought I would pass out every time I stopped breathing incorrectly. All of these effects would happen at once, so I thought my world would just go black around me as I closed my eyes for good.

Now you must be thinking, “That poor girl! How could she deal with that? That is so sad.” In all honesty, I’m not looking for sympathy, nor do I want people to feel bad for me. I don’t think I have a terrible life, nor have I ever felt hatred toward my life and all of my medical issues. In my eyes, this is normal. Everybody is a little different, and that’s what makes us all unique. I would rather deal with my medical problems than wish my worst enemy experienced what I have to go through. I love my life, I love laughing, I love smiling, and I love the days where I am a little healthier. I feel if I didn’t have my medical issues, I wouldn’t be as strong, or even happy for that matter, as I am today. I appreciate each day that I have been given, and that’s what we all have to do. Instead of people feeling sorry for me, why can’t they look past my medical issues and just be happy that I’m alive? I’m not saying my life is easy by any means, nor is it too hard to handle. I know there are people out there who have it worse than I do, and I praise them for going through whatever ailment has been destroying their helpless bodies as well. The main goal in this life that we are given is to not waste time; we need to tell our loved ones how much we love them, we need to take risks, we cannot live with regret, and we need to all have fun. Nobody is perfect; we will mess up, and that’s the beauty of life because even if we mess up we can correct ourselves in the future. And that is how I truly view my life. It may be difficult, but I don’t want people to feel bad because I’m still the same girl, and I’m still happy, and I’ll always be content with my life.

I bet you’re wondering how I found out about the diagnosis of my medical issue. It was a long journey as to indicating what had been causing me such pain for months. After countless doctor visits, blood work, and constant bad news, I was rushed to the hospital on a Monday during January2013 of sophomore year. However, let me take a step back and explain what led up to my first overnighter at Albany Med. My mother works at St. Mary’s hospital in Troy; she works in the pathology lab as a medical transcriptionist. It’s her job to type about people’s medical problems and all of their medical mysteries. My mother would talk to the doctors, lab technicians, surgeons, anybody who could give her some answers as to what was “wrong” with me. Of course, some would tell my mother to rush me to the hospital, while others told my mom that it was all stress related, and we shouldn’t worry about it. I had to get my first blood work extracted at my mother’s workforce. Keep in mind that I am the BIGGEST wimp when it comes to needles, so, of course, I screamed, and cried, which made my mother and other workers cry. My blood work didn’t come back with good results. Now, on top of our increasing food bill, our medical expenses were getting costly. After my screaming and crying on a Saturday night a few weeks after my traumatic blood work incident, my parents wanted to rush me to the hospital. That Sunday I felt much better, but on Monday, around fifth period, that’s when I had to run out of class to get to the nurse’s office immediately. Shortly after that, I was rushed to Albany Med by both my anxious parents, who were trying to control their nervousness. At the hospital, I had to endure another needle to the tiny vein in my arm, for which I didn’t even cry this time; I had to get an ultra-sound; I had various tests, scans, nurses, and doctors who were trying to decipher what was causing my pain. I was rushed to the area in which I had to have an emergency endoscopy (scope down your throat), and also my first colonoscopy (couldn’t say that was one of my favorite memories). In the end of the scariest past few months of last year, I was finally diagnosed with severe IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome). Since my symptoms were so severe, the doctors guaranteed us that I would grow up to have Crohn’s disease. This wasn’t my ideal dream of living my life, but at least we had the answers for which we had been searching. Because of my age, and because of how small I am, my doctors at Albany Med and my pediatricians didn’t want me to take any medicine or pills. I was fine with that because of all the pills I had to take prior to this. I found out what I could and couldn’t eat, and everything became a lot easier for me. I wasn’t having terrible reactions, I played sports like usual, I began to run more, and I began to smile more.

During the long journey of this past year, I have gotten a lot healthier to the point where I could eat all of the foods I always could enjoy without having a terrible reaction. Life had gotten much easier. I know my journey has just began, and I know that this journey will last my entire life, but from what I learned during this battle of mine is that life is too short to not enjoy; also, humans who have medical issues are amongst the strongest people for what they have to endure on a daily basis. I still believe that I have a typical teenage life; I can still laugh, and smile, and be a complete dork while keeping up with my social life and school work, but what this has taught me is that we are all unique, and we shouldn’t judge another person because we don’t know what he or she has to deal with. I’m glad the ridicule has ended, I’m glad I’m not picked on anymore, and if I am to be judged, then so be it because I know that I’m a strong person on the inside and the outside. I don’t want sympathy; I don’t want people to feel as if I have a terrible life; I want people to look at me and simply understand that this is my life, and I’m loving every second of it.