Four Years and Counting

It's been four years since these pictures of me were taken. The text was my Facebook status on December 27, 2009.

I was barely 100 pounds: Living on hospital saline and whatever amount of chicken broth I could hold down. 

I was withering away. 

I was dying. 

Four years ago today I was heading to Salt Lake to receive a life saving operation called a Heller Myotomy. 

I was 17 for only a week when I was diagnosed with a rare and incurable esophagus disease called Achalasia. 

Surgery was my only option. 

When I look these old photos I sometimes find myself in awe as I try to hold back tears. Because I still remember exactly how I felt. 

I was in extreme pain. I could not eat or drink any kind of substance. The most basic human instinct of eating had become a foreign task to my body. My esophagus would basically purge any kind of nourishment I tried to give to my body. 

My muscles ached from weakness. 

And most nights...

Most nights I would lay in bed begging for death to take me.

Praying to God for mercy. 

At the time, I wanted nothing more than to die. Because death seemed preferable than living day to day starving. 

My doctors knew there was a surgery but there was still no guarantee it was going to help me in anyway. But four years ago, I received the operation that would at least give me the ability to eat. 

Not completely take away the pain. 

But at least give me a better shot at survival. 

I am living with a disease that medical science has little knowledge about. 

And to this day I am incredibly grateful for life.

It is short. 

It is precious.

It can change at any moment.

But it is absolutely wonderful. 

For a long time I was bitter and angry about what had happened to me. I definitely had a "why me" complex about my life. But now, Achalasia is a part of who I am. 

It nearly killed me. 

But it proved to me how strong I can be. 

It is a daily reminder of my mortality. 

But it also reminds me that life is a gift.