Autoimmune: This Is My Story

Birthday Plans Postponed

I met with my consultant a few days later. Before she entered the room, I was greeted by a doctor from her team. He happened to be the same doctor who had sent me to stay in the hospital when I spent that night in A and E. He asked me about my symptoms and took some notes based on what I told him. Then, the consultant walked in and he relayed the notes to her. He also took a look back at notes taken when I had been staying in hospital and began to talk about the results of the liver ultrasound. My ears pricked up as he told her that the results showed a hepatomegaly. I raised my eyebrow at this. The doctors had told me that nothing showed up on the scan. I was slightly annoyed that they hadn't disclosed this to me, despite not knowing what a hepatomegaly meant at the time. I kept the word in my mind and resolved to look it up once I arrived home. My consultant said that she'd be speeding up my endoscopy test so that she might be able to eliminate coeliac disease. 

I returned home and looked up the word hepatomegaly. The results showed that this meant I had an enlarged liver. Yet another symptom of Autoimmune Hepatitis. Everything seemed to be pointing in that direction. 

My eighteenth birthday was approaching in the upcoming weeks. I still felt sick most of the time and was continuing to miss school frequently. I was missing spending time with my friends. So, I had decided I was going to definitely do something to celebrate my birthday, as a way to spend some time with them. Most people end up having at least a few drinks on their eighteenth birthday where I live. It's kind of the done thing. Something that's almost expected of you. That will forever be a pressuring social expectation that I'll never be able to afford to give in to. 

Given the damage that had been done to my liver, it was risky to consume so much as one serving of alcohol. So, I ruled out going near any bars or nightclubs. I decided to invite all my friends out to the cinema instead. I told my friends about the situation with alcohol and how I had been advised strongly to avoid it. Most of them understood, save except one, who still, I don't think, fully comprehends the fact that so much as one drink could be enough to kill me. 

A couple of days before the Halloween mid term break, I got back a history test that I had studied really hard for. Unfortunately, on the day I had sat it, my concentration was lacking. My mind was fogged and I blanked half of the information required to make it an A standard essay. This was reflective of the H4 I got on the test. A H4 would be the equivalent of a C or D to most other education systems. I know it was only one bad test, but history is one of my best subjects. It frustrated me that I didn't seem to be able to relay the information required anymore, to get the grades I'm capable of getting when I'm well and healthy. History wasn't the only subject, in which my grades were starting to slip considerably. It was one of most of them. 

We had arranged to go to the cinema during the Halloween break, which is when my birthday falls. Another setback was on its way though. A few days before the break, I started experiencing symptoms of a cold. By the Saturday, it had transcended into a flu. It started to weigh on my chest. I started wheezing and coughing and was finding it hard to breathe. I was put on steroids and antibiotics and it was being treated as a bad chest infection. 

While on the steroids, I started to notice that the other symptoms were starting to subside. They seemed to be tackling that constant urge to retch. That was yet another occurrence that made me believe that I was suffering from Autoimmune Hepatitis, as steroids are used to treat it. A couple of days later, after I was off the steroids and antibiotics, the belching resurfaced. So did the symptoms of the chest infection. And it got worse again. 

Taking another visit to my GP, after he examined my breathing, I found him sending me to the X-ray department of the hospital to have my chest scanned. On my birthday, and throughout the Halloween break, I found myself fighting off a bad chest infection which had transcended into pneumonia. The GP said it was likely because my immune system was a little askew at that moment and my body was finding it especially hard to fight infections. I had to postpone my birthday plans and spent that entire holiday beside the fire. I got a little more writing done, studied a little for school, but spent most of it sleeping. It was a miserable mid term and a miserable way to spend my birthday. 

Upon my return to school, I had an appointment with the guidance counselor. He helped me relieve some of the stress I was feeling by having me drop a subject to give me some more time to study during school hours. I ended up dropping geography, which would give me five study periods a week. It was a huge relief. 

One morning during my biology class, I ended up excusing myself to the bathroom. I dashed into one of the cubicles and found myself gagging over the toilet. On my hands and knees, I continued to cough up fluid. This was definitely getting worse. I spent the entire forty minutes of that class period on the dismal, dirty bathroom floor, almost reduced to tears from the pain. I was also starting to experience shortness of breath. Rising from the floor, I brought myself to look in the mirror. My illness was starting to reflect on the outside too. My hair had a greasy sheen to it, despite having washed it the night before. My skin looked desperate. I was breaking out in spots, which I know, is typical for an adolescent, but my skin was normally quite clear. It was spotty and oily and horrible. And it was emanating a yellow hue, which was at its most noticeable around my eyelids. 

What on Earth is wrong with me? I thought, as I continued to study my jaundiced skin in the mirror.