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Note: The story is all true, but some names have been changed, though I may change the fake names to real ones depending on who's comfortable with their real names being used, which I'll find out sometime. But for now, most of the names are fake except for a few. Also, this topic is very near and dear to my heart, and is very hard to find the right words to explain, so I apologize in advance if it doesn't come out exactly as I meant it, or it sounds repetitive.
A lot of things in life can trigger my lung disease, especially when I walk by perfume stands at the mall or someone lights a cigarette near the outside corner of a store, and the smoke is carried by the wind just as I walk outside. People look at me weird, almost as if I just killed their pet dog, because they think it's contagious. I always reassure them that I'm not contagious, and that I just have a condition called Cystic Fibrosis.
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Recently, my dad and I started talking about my past. My dad is an agnostic at best, so it really surprised me when he brought up miracles. I'm the only person in the world to have been cured of Pulmonary Atresia, and it wasn't because of doctors.
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My lungs got plugged up on Saturday to the point I couldn't yawn. As the infection makes its way out, it sometimes falls back into my lungs and plugs them up, making them itch and hurt. Still, I forced myself to go on a long walk, and then did a few extra treatments. But the mucus plug wouldn't clear, so I decided to take treatment to the next level the next day.
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Eating was a struggle for me, especially when I was a little girl. Thanks (or no thanks) to Cystic Fibrosis, my pancreas has been almost completely useless since birth, and the only thing it's been able to produce for the past 17 years have been small amounts of insulin, but even that has decreased with age, and there's never been much I could really do about it. With diet, I could slow the progression, but I could never stop it.
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The next morning was freezing, but thankfully not windy. We arrived at camp just before dawn, after spending a restless night in the hotel, praying and napping as 5:00 am slowly rolled around. Our hunting guides Mike and Tom were already there waiting for us. The truck was already running and heated. All we needed to do was grab my rifle, pack inside the truck, and go.
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