But, my ability to zero in on very specific things and topics has been advantageous in more ways than just that. I'd argue that it aided in my survival as someone with CF. Like how I love to learn about nature (more specifically, about the native nature that surrounds where I live), I love to learn about the medical things that afflict me, such as Cystic Fibrosis. To me, knowledge is the best thing ever. Without it, we are in the dark, and being in the dark is never good. For me, being in the dark about things like CF is absolutely petrifying. After all, how am I supposed to prepare for and deal with the shit coming my way if I don't see it coming in the first place? Truth is, I can't. So, I do all the research I can and ask my doctors tons and tons of questions so nothing that comes out of left field is entirely unexpected. 

Thankfully, my current CF doctors (especially my current main CF doctor at University of Washington) love to teach me about all the complicated ways CF works, as well as admit when they don't really know what's going on (honesty is also important, ya know). In a sense, not only am I the guinea pig in a lot of ways, but I have a say in what happens to me next. For instance, as of December 2020, my doctors are aware of the fact that there are many different kinds of salt chambers in every cell of my body that CF impacts. More specifically, CF impacts a single type of salt chamber in my neurons in the "lizard" part of my brain.

In normal people, this specific salt chamber in the primitive part of their brain usually remains closed, unless something happens that requires the brain to kick into "fight-or-flight" mode, in which case that salt chamber opens to give those "fight-or-flight" neurons all the energy they can get to keep the person alive.

In CF, that chamber is almost always closed, even when the person goes into "fight-or-flight" mode, because as we all know, the root cause of CF is the body's inability to process sodium correctly. Now, thanks to Trikafta, all of my salt chambers are much more open, including the "fight-or-flight" salt chamber. While this means my body physically functions more normally, it also means I'm perpetually in this physical "fight-or-flight" mode because that specific salt chamber in my brain is stuck open thanks to Trikafta. This theory explains my anxiety/depression associated with Trikafta are so much more physical rather than mental. Doctors don't know exactly why Trikafta works as well as it does, or how to fix this specific problem in the brains of 40% of people on Trikafta. And, scarier still, only 20,000 people worldwide are on Trikafta, most of whom just started Trikafta within the last few months or so (whenever the EU approved it). I was one of the first 5,000 people in the world to start Trikafta. 

While I find the science surrounding CF and the medications I take extremely fascinating, it's also the stuff of nightmares. I mean, I still don't know how to feel about the fact that I'm literally a living, breathing science experiment, and I'm on the frontiers of some extremely important science that is literally going to be considered one of, if not humanity's greatest achievement, as the next best thing to Trikafta will be a literal cure to CF that does not involve gene editing while one is still in the womb. I try not to think about it too much, because of just how overwhelming it is. But, it's exhilarating. At the same time, it makes me literally tremble in fear just thinking about it. 

It all comes down to being in the dark about very serious things. I don't mind not knowing if there's life in the universe besides us. I don't care to know how many asteroids that are capable of ending the world are hurling towards us as I type this. However, I do care about knowing what CF is, and why Trikafta does what it does, as do my doctors. Unfortunately, my doctors still don't know a lot about how Trikafta impacts people like me. The things we do know about it (such as the "fight-or-flight" salt chamber issue) create more questions than answers. This certainly contributes to my anxiety, on top of everything else going on, and I'm not sure how to really cope in a healthy way. Right now, my coping mechanisms include sleeping excessively, keeping myself as busy as possible at home, playing World of Warcraft until it feels like my eyeballs are about to fall out of their sockets, and researching the shit out of everything that scares me right now. 

I am very thankful for this insufferable curiosity of mine that keeps me sane, and treats serious problems almost like an escape-room type game. When it comes to the issues associated with Trikafta, my current objective is to work alongside my doctors and scientists to figure out what works and what doesn't, without doing anything too reckless or dangerous, so I can escape this mental anguish Trikafta is partially responsible for. Of course, it's scary and I'm not exactly willing to play this game (just like how I don't like real-life escape rooms). But, I have to help solve this Trikafta issue, not just for my sake, but for the sake of others who will be prescribed this medication as well, even though I don't want to do it. 

This profound sense of "I have to do this for the sake of myself and others even if I don't wanna" isn't just limited to this one specific issue. I've always been willing to take risks like this, which is apparently an aspie trait. Why? I don't know exactly why, but I do know it's definitely spurred on by my thirst for knowledge, not so I can brag about having bigger balls or being bigger brained than my neurotypical peers. But, because I was born into a very, very unique body that I have the moral obligation to use to help further science's understanding of the human body, so those who are born into similar circumstances can survive without having to go through the things I've unfortunately been put through. Also, I just like learning about this kind of shit. Science is cool! That, and knowledge puts me at ease. It makes my world a little less uncertain, and therefore, my world is a little less scary.

Now that I'm officially diagnosed with ASD, I feel a sense of duty to enroll myself into ASD-related studies, just like I've been taking part in nearly every CF-related-study I've been offered. Thankfully, the ASD I have isn't nearly as dire as CF, but it impacts a hell of a lot more people in the world. Last I checked, CF affects about one out of every 250,000 people worldwide, while ASD affects about one out of every forty people worldwide. So, why not let scientists dissect my ASD, much like they have (and continue to) dissect CF? Truth is, I have no reasons not to serve the world by letting science study me.