Not to my surprise, when she saw me she was startled. She checked my pulse and told me my skin was jaundice. I had no idea what that meant. An overwhelming sense of loss of control came over me in just a matter of seconds. I wanted to know what was going on, especially now that my mother was involved and making no secret of her concerns.
The following week we scheduled a series of doctor’s appointments with specialists all over the state. I was admitted into the emergency room to find out something I would have never imagined in a million years.
The crew of doctors circled my hospital bed and instantly I felt like I was playing a role in a major movie. One of them stood forward, touched my foot while I was looking across at them in my bed, and told me I have a vascular (blood vessel”> autoimmune disease called Takayasu’s Vasculitis.
I was only 21. My life had just begun. Now it is ending. That’s all I could think about. The sadness in my soul became more prevalent through my eyes. The doctors left my parents and me in the room to let the news sink in. We cried all day and all night.
We didn’t have much to time to sit and sulk, though. What was going on was extreme and rare. Although there weren’t many answers on how to “cure” or “prevent” my disease, I was willing to do anything to save my life and regain my normal self back. Immediately we chose to go with an aggressive plan of attack- chemotherapy once every few weeks, high doses of certain medications and steroids to calm the swelling in my blood vessels down. I started taking dietary precautions, too. Regular doctor visits to multiple specialists would become the norm for me. No more going out to have fun, no more school, no more work. Surviving was now my only priority.
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