The Popular Girl

My name is Emma. I’m the type of girl most people are jealous of. I have a really nice boyfriend, a great family, great friends, and I can eat whatever I want without gaining weight. But, I have a terminal illness that no one besides my parents and I know about. It’s called Cystic Fibrosis.

Tomorrow is my 18th birthday! To you, that may just sound like a number, but to me, it means I have survived for another full year. Tomorrow I have a doctor’s appointment. I think I should get some good news because lately, I’ve been feeling a lot better than “normal”. I know when I go back to school everyone will ask me where I was, but I will probably just tell them I was giving blood or something. It wouldn’t totally be a lie because the doctors will take my blood.

My friends always worry when I miss school because I do miss it so much, but I think it’s better them not knowing I’m sick that way they don’t worry about me 24/7.

So, I’m at the doctor's now and man they are taking forever; I usually get to go back to school or at least go shopping after my appointment, but that isn’t looking too good. They never have taken this long. I wonder if something is wrong?

The doctors came in… They asked my mom to step into the hall to talk to her. Is this a good thing? Because I don’t really think so; they never ask to talk to her alone. When mom came back in she was wiping away tears on her face. Crap this isn’t good this is bad, really bad. I have a feeling they are gonna tell me I have gotten worse. I don’t know how much worse, but I do know that 2 months ago when I came I had 34% lung capacity left. I know that isn’t good and that my life expectancy has definitely went down from last time I asked which was about 2 years ago when they said it was 29.

I asked the doctor, “How am I?”

They said, “Terminal as you know.”

I then said, “Am I any better; because I feel better?”

They responded saying, “No you are worse, a lot worse.”

I asked the question I always hate asking “how much capacity is left”… with a sigh, they said only 17%. Thinking to myself I’m saying “I’m dying, I’m dying I’ve known this forever, but now it just feels so real. Should I tell my friends that the girl they are always jealous of is dying”. At this point I’m crying and so is my mom. They said at the rate you have been developing you have only 2 years left at the maximum.  

2 years no way that is impossible I’m only 18 I’m gonna die before I graduate college, get married, or have kids. I’m never gonna be a wife, mom, aunt, grandma, daughter-in-law, I’m never gonna be anything I’ve ever dreamed of being.

The doctor handed me a paper and I was afraid to read it. As I read the top I cried and cried; it said “Emma’s Living Will”. I knew that one day I would receive a living will, but I always thought I would be at least 25 at that point.

After leaving the doctor’s I call my boyfriend thinking I’m gonna tell him that I’m dying of CF, but that’s not how the conversation went...

I started saying can we talk and he interrupted and said I think we should break up. I hung up on him, because I just couldn’t listen to him anymore. I thought he was my soulmate; I had told him everything except the fact I was sick for years. We had been friends since I was a freshman and now I’m a senior. He had been my best friend for years I couldn’t stand to think he broke up with me over the phone. I mean come on he is such a dork! He didn’t even have the nerves to break up with me in person! Could I have a worse day?!

I called my friend Grace. She is my best girl friend. I called her and started the conversation by telling her that Ethan broke up with me! After her consoling me for a while on the phone I asked if she could come over because I needed to tell her something really important…

When she got there I started telling her about my CF and how I only had 2 years left. She asked why I hadn’t told her earlier and I said because I didn’t want to worry her or anyone else. She said she wouldn’t mind the worry because she loved me and wanted to be able to help me.

Even though the doctor’s said I had 2 more years left I got bad really fast. My lungs were too full of mucus for me to breathe easily. I had trouble walking because it took my breath away. When it came time for graduation I couldn’t even walk across the stage. I had to be pushed in a wheelchair. So, obviously everyone knew I was sick by then. All my friends always answered my texts and phone calls incredibly fast because they were always worrying I was about to die.

The summer was boring because I couldn’t do anything I liked because I couldn’t breathe well enough. July was bad I had to be hospitalized. I didn’t ever get to leave. Even though all my friends use to be jealous of me I knew now they were regretting wishing they were me.

On August 17th I died. I felt bad that I died that day. That was Grace’s birthday. I knew I ruined that day for her. I knew every year on her birthday all she would be able to think about would be me. I was her best friend and she was mine. I know she was happy that on that day I got to stop suffering, but now I feel bad that every year on that day she will suffer. So, as I write this from my new home in heaven and enjoy the endless lung capacity that I never got on Earth I will always remember the life I had on Earth and why it was so great.

It was the people, the memories, the laughs, and the endless love my friends and family gave me. I know that I will always be in the heart of the people whose lives I’ve influenced and that they will always be remembered in mine.