As I'd expected, I got just as sick as I did the first time. Only, I avoided antibiotics, and went straight to treating my condition with the phages. Unfortunately, the second Pseudomonas infection buried itself deep within my lungs, so gravity wasn't on my side that time. It wasn't the infection itself that was the main issue. It was the aftermath that was the real threat.

When phages kill off an infection, they do so by literally blowing up the cell, leaving behind a mess of cell matter much larger than the cell itself. This dead cell matter wasn't infectious, so it couldn't eat through my body like the living Pseudomonas could, but it was awfully sticky and hard to get rid of.  

The phages killed Pseudomonas in less than two weeks, but it was extremely difficult for me to breathe because of what was left behind in my lungs. Every time I coughed, I coughed long and hard, expelling sticky stuff out of my windpipe every time. Sometimes, the stuff that I coughed up only made it to the back of my throat, and then slid down my throat into my stomach. Because of this, it was really difficult for me to eat without getting sick, so I lost a ton of weight. 

I was still pissed at God, so I gave Him the silent treatment as I believed He did to me. In my mind, I still thought I was the one who pulled everything off. If anyone deserved any credit for my healing, it was myself, family, and doctors, not God. Of course, whenever my family talked to me about it, I hid my disbelief from them. Everyone except for me seemed to believe the phage treatment was introduced to us by God. Personally, I wrote it off as a lucky coincidence. The only thing that would open my heart up to God again was to get back into a school I could thrive in. If God could fulfill His promise from over a year before, then I'd take God more seriously. But, I wasn't about to attend another school with other students and multiple teachers ever again, even when I healed completely. 

Unfortunately, my anger at God and CF spilled out into the world for everyone to see. I was very short with everyone who was around me, and spent most of my time in my bedroom, hiding away from the rest of the world. Even my dad, who was an agnostic himself and didn't bring up religion with me, was shocked when I blurted out I wasn't very religious anymore. 

"What happened? What changed?" he asked. 

"Life." I sighed. 

That short, simple answer continues to haunt me to this very day. Life certainly did change for me, and it didn't change for the better. I was sick and exhausted. I was suffering intense pain and frustration. I was frustrated for the most part. After all, I was a total dumbass for going back to a school building I knew would get me seriously sick again, but I wanted to see if I could finish high school before Pseudomonas finished me. I only had one thing on my mind: graduate high school. I felt like I could never forgive myself for not using my head as much as I should've, and because of my own stupidity, I was back at square one and at risk of ending up on my death bed. 

I was also frustrated at my family. They didn't understand what I was actually going through, and really didn't attempt to hear me out. As soon as they heard me say something even related to, "I think I'm becoming an atheist", that was the end of the conversation. My mom firmly believed that if she just forced me to go to church, I'd have an epiphany that would completely change my mind and attitude towards God and my circumstances. But her choice to bring me to church every Saturday night once I could stand on my own two feet again, only made atheism more attractive to me. 

For the record, I did not like the church my mom was going to. Worship service was literally a rave for Jesus, complete with live contemporary Christian music, smoke machines, and flashing lights, followed by repetitive, vapid sermons that seemed to last for an eternity. If I was going to consider Christianity again, I needed a completely different church environment, but when I tried going to a Wednesday night bible study group, it was just as fulfilling to me as the same old "Jesus loves you" sermons I had to sit through at my mom's church. Pretty much every question I brought to my bible study was met with blank stares and shrugs, even from the adult leaders. 

My frustration only grew when my mom found a letter in our mailbox from my school. She opened it up and I read the letter over her shoulder as she read it to herself. My school was threatening to sue us for truancy because we didn't provide them with enough doctor's notes to excuse my absences. Thankfully, I was 16 years old, so legally I was allowed to drop out of school so long as my parents agreed to let me do so. If the school really did try to bring us to court, they'd lose pretty quickly. However, when my mom told the school this, they threatened to fail me for truancy instead. If they couldn't get the court to do anything to us, they might as well hold me back a grade instead, and ensure my failing grades remained on my permanent record. 

My mom was seething. She literally screamed over the phone, demanding whoever was in charge of this ridiculousness to back down. They didn't. At least, not until my mom got her best lawyers involved. Then, my school dropped all charges and failing grades when they received a phone call from my mom's lawyer, who threatened to sue their asses if they didn't drop all charges and failing grades. We had plenty of evidence to prove I ditched school for a total of 4 months for a very good reason, while my school did not. 

After that little episode, my mom finally decided a regular school was not for us. She promised to find me something, anything, that would allow me to graduate high school and suite my needs. But, she also admitted that she had no idea where to go from there, and she needed guidance. She told me I had to do nothing, except one thing. 

"I want you to pray." my mom explained, "You need to pray for a better school. I know you don't trust God right now, but you have to. I know you think I know what I'm doing, but I don't, so I need you to pray for guidance. Got that?"

"Yes." I nodded, "I'll start praying every night from now on, regardless if I believe in God or not."