These days, I'm basically back to my old self. I'm still not as heavy or muscular as I was before I got super sick, but I'm getting very close. I can ride my dirtbike for a long time without getting breathless or even tired. I just finished my junior year of high school, and have high hopes for next school year. My lung function has almost fully recovered, which is miraculous considering Pseudomonas was literally turning my lungs into mush. I'm back to my five-daily-meal diet, and medical tests done a little over month ago have concluded that I'm extremely healthy for my age and disease. 

My parents keep telling me to be proud. I fought off an impossible illness with extreme courage and bravery. I once again rebelled against antibiotics recommended by my doctors, and defied the CF community as a whole (which tends to freak a lot of people out and piss them off). I refuse to be victimized by a disease that I could easily use as a valid excuse to curl up and die. Unlike a lot of CFers, I'm crazy enough to believe that I'll outlive my disease, but only through very hard work, long nights of research, and long hours spent in prayer. God has stepped in to save me when nothing else could, and doctors are smart enough to figure out the root of the CF issue and work on medications to fix that issue. There's no cure yet, but we're close. As scary as Cystic Fibrosis is, I'm not that scared. It's progressive, but it's so slow to me that I'm not worried about it killing me early, and my doctors seem to get that. As lonely as I can get sometimes, especially since I'm extremely healthy for my age, and those I knew and looked up to in my life for advice are gone now, I'm glad to be this healthy.

I'd rather be alone and thriving, than have friends I can relate to because I'm dying.