After being stuck in the house with the same people and a puppy for over a month, I went to my grandparents’ to help out and get away from my mom, little brother, and the puppy. I loved them dearly, but we needed a break from each other. I took my older dog, Hunter, along with me, because he was stressed about the puppy and needed a break too. Going to my grandparents’ was the best thing I could’ve done for myself and my dog. I needed a quieter place to stay, and I was fairly isolated from town. My grandparents live in far southeastern Aurora, Colorado, surrounded by wide open plains and horse properties. So, I had plenty of room to roam.
My grandparents had seen me plenty of times since I got on Trikafta, but they didn’t see me for very long at a time since before I got on Trikafta. After a few days, they were simply amazed by how energetic I was. My grandparents have always been athletic, but I never really bothered to accompany them whenever they went out to exercise, because I wasn’t able to keep up. But, Trikafta made it easy for me to keep up with them. In fact, they almost had a hard time keeping up with me!
Like a crazed spring calf, I spent a lot of time frolicking around in the fields while my grandparents fished from the reservoir and watched me act like a wild woman from afar. I helped my grandparents with their spring projects, joined their online bible studies and Sunday church sermons, and had long, deep discussions about various topics over dinner and cards. Sadly, I disagreed about matters of faith with my grandparents more than I agreed. But, everything we disagreed on was more or less superficial. We still believed in the same roots of Christianity. We just didn’t agree on things like how God created the world, or whether or not it does any good to pray in public. We made sure to end each discussion on something we all agreed on, along with a prayer, to keep the mood light and cheerful.
I managed to get a doctor’s appointment over the internet successfully scheduled, after months of failed attempts. I spent over two hours online talking with three different doctors. First, my endocrinologist talked to me, explaining that I would need to go into a small in-person clinic to get my labs done. She explained they’d test me for all sorts of things, along with covid antibodies. Turns out, fifty people with CF in Colorado tested positive for covid, fifteen of which were asymptomatic and only found out through the antibody testing. Only two Coloradan CF patients died from covid, but they were already at the end of their lives, so doctors weren’t yet sure if they died from covid or just with it. Nearly everyone else had only mild symptoms, and managed just fine at home.
My heart skipped a few beats as I fought back tears of joy and relief. My endocrinologist was certain I’d be okay if I got covid, but said as long as I was smart and took the right precautions, I’d likely not get it at all! She was also amazed by how well my pancreas was working after I got on Trikafta. My blood sugar issues, as far as I was aware, went away within a couple of weeks of my first dose. I no longer woke up in the middle of the night to raid the snack drawer, weak and shaky from a blood sugar low. And, my first round of blood tests after Trikafta showed that my A1C and blood sugar levels of the day were normal, indicating that my pancreas was doing something right after being next to useless for so many years.
Next, my main pulmonologist called me and included my mom in the call. She, with a stern tone and a smile, explained that I was not part of the “high risk” group, meaning she expected I’d be just fine going to the store and around other people, wearing a mask and carrying hand sanitizer. Even if I got covid, my pulmonologist was confident I’d fare very well with it, and it probably wouldn’t be worse than a bad cold, if I showed any symptoms at all! My mom squealed with joy and I laughed with amazement when my second doctor announced that awesome news! Science finally caught up to God! I would be okay, no matter what, both according to God and science!
Finally, my CF psychologist checked in with me quickly, and she more or less hyped me up to go outside into a public setting. “Get yourself some take-out, and also go to the grocery store within the next few weeks to get a feel for it! I promise, you will be okay.”, my CF psychologist said. She also told me I needed to get a few new pairs of jeans after I admitted Trikafta caused me to gain so much weight (I gained twenty pounds), that I was having a hard time fitting into my jeans! I had to “borrow” a few pairs from my mom, since I no longer fit into my own.
For the record, I’m not complaining about this. I’m still skinny, but not skeletal. I basically have the body of an average woman my height, which means I’m stronger and feel way better. While some people find it aesthetically pleasing for some twisted reason, it’s not healthy to have the body of a Barbie doll. I felt like death when I was that skinny. I was always tired, and I always felt weak. I was also self-conscious about how my skinniness made me look. It wasn't healthy. I could count the bones that made up my body, and I looked muscular even though I didn't do anything that could constitute as body-building.
Now, I look normal, and I feel great! My bones no longer stick out of my skin. A layer of fat now hides the six-pack I once had, yet I'm considerably stronger than I once was. I have the strength and energy to actually work out and stay active. I no longer have to shove so much food down my throat to try to maintain my weight or gain a pound in a few months. My hair has gotten considerably thicker and healthier. My hands are no longer so cold all of the time. And, like I mentioned previously, I can eat things I never thought I could eat again, which has contributed to my weight gain!
