I arrive to the stairs, everything seems fine, my backpack does not weigh so much so I face with optimism the next three flights of steps which are waiting for me. All seems well in the first flight, but in the half of the second one the symptoms start to hit me once and over again until I have to stop. I haven't mentioned it yet but I had an illness, two years ago.
All it started as simple as a cold so my parents weren't very concerned, but the days passed and I didn't get well, the medicine didn't work and I was getting worse. Finally my parents had no choice but take me to the doctor and then everything started to go wrong, they had no idea of what was happening to me, it was a unique case which they hadn't seen, and I didn't know what was happening the only thing I noticed was that I as getting worse. I went to the doctor every week, just once, but it started to increased, twice a week, then four times, after that six times a week, and finally I had to sign in the hospital. They tested me every day trying to find out what was happening to me, I didn't noticed much since I was anesthetized every few minutes, but what I did noticed was how painful was waking up, whenever the doctors anesthetized me and I woke up it hurt more. From time to time I had a new scar from the tests where they took cells and studied them, and also more things but I didn't want to know them. Obviously I didn't go to the school and I wasn't able to care for it. I spent a couple months in that way, tests and more test, pain and more pain. At first I struggled, I struggled to smile, read, or talk, but I ended up giving up, I lost all desire, my desire to read, to play the piano (which I used to play, to talk, or to eat; I lost the desire to live. A machine was keeping me alive, I don't what was it function, but it's true that it was easier to breathe with it. I remember well the day of the news, it was early in the morning and, as always, I was prepared for the tests that supposedly I was going to have. Immediately I realized that something was wrong, the doctor did not arrive. Suddenly my parents appeared through the door and a doctor, my doctor, something was wrong because my parents weren't allowed to visit me in the morning because I was supposed to test. I prepared myself for the worst, I was expecting to be told that I was going to die or something similar, and partly I wished to hear that at that time, I couldn't fight anymore. Bu it wasn't that, finally after two months waiting, it arrived, my answer, the answer of what was happening to me.
The doctor sat down next to me, and my parents stayed stood up, they were really serious and I could see some sadness in their glance.
My illness itself was an immunological failure, my antibodies attacked my adrenal cells, which are the ones who produce the glucose and some other elements our bodies need to grow up, stay healthy and to live. The symptoms were:
-Weakness
-Strong headaches
-Faints
The biggest problem was not having a unique illness, the biggest problem was having a degenerative illness; I was dying.
Though my illness was unique and they didn't any cure, the doctors spent two more months trying to find one. And I spent two more months dying.
They transferred me to another floor were they look for you 24 hours a day, so I supposed I was getting worse. I started to had troubles breathing and moving because I was too week, so I was prepared to die, it was awful.
I also remember well the day I became I scientific miracle. It was another awful night, trying not to stop breathing, when I fell asleep. Like one hour and a half later I suddenly woke up, at the beginning I didn't the cause, but then my head started to throb, I tried to breathe but I couldn't, I tried to move but I couldn't, and I tried to scream but I couldn't either. A terrible pain was going through every part of my body, so I assumed that it was the end.
Then I just remember some parts; a lot of people running with white clothes, two people next to me, my parents, my parents holding hands, more people running, more pain, my parents again trying not to cry, strange gadgets around me, my parents trying to smile. My headache became a nightmare and I could hear nothing. After it was difficult to keep my eyes open, I was tired and I wanted to sleep.
A black halo began to surround the edges, and the last thing I got to see was my mom crying and whispering something like "stay strong" I'm not sure, and then a dark grey fog covered everything.
After that I can't remember anything. My doctor told me that after the dark grey fog covered everything a battle between living or dying started inside me.
I was too weak to breathe so my lungs weren't working, but my heart didn't want to give up life. When everyone thought I was going to die, my lungs with no reason started to work again; and I woke up.
Since then, everything went smoothly, and my body by itself got well again, and finally I left the hospital.
I keep going to the doctor but just once every two months.
One month and a half ago I developed I theory, I think I'm ill gain, I feel the symptoms really often and I feel how they become stronger with time, but I'm not going tell my parents for two reasons: the first one I'm not going to pass through all the pain again, and the second one, there's something worse to be dying, having a daughter who is dying.
I've rested five minutes more and less, and I feel strong enough to go upstairs, so I start.
