I used to believe I was indestructible. Too young to die from anything other than some sort of freak accident. Illness felt like it was six degrees away -- a distant deadline at the back of my mind that only becomes a priority when it’s right around the corner. Yet, my illness was not foreign to me. I grew up watching my grandmother prick her finger each morning, was careful about the needles and glass vials in the fridge, and saw how weak she was towards the end.
My mother phoned me, livid, that afternoon. I expected it to be more of the scoldings that had become more common with my dropping grades. It was the most rigorous year of my academic career and I’d been recently confronted by my principal after falling asleep in class one too many …show more content…
Perhaps her anger had been misdirected by shock. The thought of the same disease that took her mother taking her daughter must have been unnerving. I was also taken aback and unable to muster anything besides a shaky “oh” as I tuned out the rest of her tirade. I was scared, unable to accept what I heard.
It’s a slow burning disease. With proper care and ideal conditions, I can live a long life with minimal damage since I was lucky enough to be diagnosed pretty early on. Despite the effort, it has already taken it’s toll on me in some ways. Scars from minor things like insect bites and cuts seem to never fade, my eyesight has gotten worse, and the immune system I once prided myself on is no longer what it was. I endure and still work everyday to keep it under control. My friend, who is also pretty sickly, has diligently supported me along the way.
I’ve come to accept that our time on this Earth is limited and that there are plenty of things I want to do before I inevitably kick the bucket. I’ve always been fascinated by computers and always wanted to learn about artificial intelligence. Getting into the University of Florida where I can study in the best Computer Science program in Florida and reunite with that same friend who has helped me so much would be killing two birds with one
My mother phoned me, livid, that afternoon. I expected it to be more of the scoldings that had become more common with my dropping grades. It was the most rigorous year of my academic career and I’d been recently confronted by my principal after falling asleep in class one too many …show more content…
Perhaps her anger had been misdirected by shock. The thought of the same disease that took her mother taking her daughter must have been unnerving. I was also taken aback and unable to muster anything besides a shaky “oh” as I tuned out the rest of her tirade. I was scared, unable to accept what I heard.
It’s a slow burning disease. With proper care and ideal conditions, I can live a long life with minimal damage since I was lucky enough to be diagnosed pretty early on. Despite the effort, it has already taken it’s toll on me in some ways. Scars from minor things like insect bites and cuts seem to never fade, my eyesight has gotten worse, and the immune system I once prided myself on is no longer what it was. I endure and still work everyday to keep it under control. My friend, who is also pretty sickly, has diligently supported me along the way.
I’ve come to accept that our time on this Earth is limited and that there are plenty of things I want to do before I inevitably kick the bucket. I’ve always been fascinated by computers and always wanted to learn about artificial intelligence. Getting into the University of Florida where I can study in the best Computer Science program in Florida and reunite with that same friend who has helped me so much would be killing two birds with one