Finding My Way

All About Me

Before I start my story, I need to tell you a little about me. Some people don't like to hear my story, so I am just warning you. It might get kinda messy.

I should probably introduce myself. My name is Trayton Mordecai Daniels. I am 15 years old. I have two younger sisters and two older brothers. I have three dogs and a parrot. Well, the parrot is my brothers'. My oldest brother is named Mathew, he is 19. Josiah is 16 years old. My younger sister is Sloan, she is 12, and the baby is Emerson, who is 9. My parents are great, my dad, Andrew, is a construction worker, and my mom, Saedi, is high school science teacher.

Enough of my family stuff. Now to the messy part. I am accustomed to the hospital and doctors. I have Cystic Fibrosis. If you don't know what CF is, it is pretty much when mucus and other gross gunk blocks up the airways in my lungs. And I can't breathe. It's an inherited disease, but it has skipped several generations of my family. Then we found out that I have it.

But CF is just one of my MANY problems. I also have several problems with my vision. My oncologist said that I will be legally blind by the time I turn 16. I also have a medical mystery, I have a skin disorder that no doctor I have gone to knows what it is. Plus on top of the life threatening CF, I have asthma. So I really have a hard time breathing.

But I try not to let these things bother me, but sometimes they do anyways, and it scares me. But then I am reminded of the times I was living in room A113 of the children's hospital, in my home state of Oklahoma. Or I am reminded by the things at my house. I used to play baseball before the CF got really bad, so when I see all my trophies and medals and balls, I think about what my life was like before. I am homeschooled, because my Cystic Fibrosis also makes me have a super terrible immune system. And sicknesses spread quickly at schools, or so I'm told. My siblings go to a public school, so I get to hear about all the drama, fights, boringness, homework, unfairness, and everything else from them.

I like to imagine my life if I was a "normal kid." If I were normal, I would be a freshman on the baseball team of the school my mom teaches at. (That's also where my sisters, and Josiah go.) If I were normal, I would be able to get my learner's permit next month, so I could go visit Mathew at the college he started going to last semester. If I was normal, I would have friends, I wouldn't have practically grown up in a hospital, and I wouldn't be doomed to an early death. The average Cystic Fibrosis "victim" only lives to 37.5 years old. That means I have already lived a little less than half my life span already.

But that's not what I like to focus on.

With CF, I can do anything that requires a lot of movement. I'm not supposed to run, jump, climb, exercise, do sports, or anything worth doing. Which is why I had to stop playing baseball.

We actually found out that I had CF because of one of my baseball games. I was eleven years old, and I had been feeling kinda sick for a few days, but I didn't tell my parents because I had a big game on that Saturday. My chest felt really tight, and I couldn't breathe very well. I just waved it off, thinking that I just had a chest cold. But when I was playing in the game, I started feeling lightheaded. I thought it was because of the excitement, so I kept swinging. But right after I hit a home run, and passed second base, I passed out. The next thing I knew was, I was in the hospital and I had several tubes pumping things in and out of my little body. Another symptom of CF is that it is REALLY hard to gain weight, and I was a small kid to start with. But, the doctors told us that I had a bunch of super sticky mucus and gunk blocking part of my lungs. CF is a rare thing to have, but my family was just glad that I didn't have the rarer type. It can also cause blockages in your pancreas, liver, kidneys, and intestines. Anyways, I had to "live" in the hospital for a few weeks so the doctors could try and scrape some of the mucus out of my lungs so I can breathe a little easier. I used to go to school, but the doctors won't let me now, partially because of the CF, but also because I am practically blind. Everyday, I have to wear this really weird vest thing that vibrates, while I try and cough my insides out. I helps knock the gunk off the walls of my lungs, so I can try and cough to get it out. My parents have to cup their hands and beat my back, twice a day, also to knock around the stuff slowly killing me.

My house is unusually clean. But, it has to be, if there is dust flying through the air, then in can breathe it in, and it will stick to the insides of my lungs, and it won't come out. I don't know how my house is as clean as it is, because my mom can only clean when I'm not home. And I'm always home. Also with three dogs running around, and shedding everywhere, and a parrot, who is really filthy, I am surprised how clean everything is.

I don't have friends, other than my siblings. But that's okay. I don't want to disappoint anybody when I tell them I can't do anything that makes me breathe heavily. I used to have friends on my baseball team, and when I went to school, but I haven't really talked to anybody from before, almost four years. I don't like leaving my house, even though I am allowed to.

I should probably get on to the rest of my life story, even though it will be cut short by my own lungs.