I have always loved learning. I was the little chubby girl with blonde pigtails, who asked too many questions and observed everything. The world was full of things to learn, information to acquire, and new experiences.
I was also an avid reader, obsessed with historical fiction (Dear America books, anyone?), voraciously reading every book in my bookshelf as well as the books from my older sister’s bookshelf. At some point, my mom proclaimed to the family that I was no longer allowed to be taken to a bookstore. A few years later, I had read nearly every book in the young adult section of the local public library.
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My love of learning carried over, predictably, to school. I was the precocious young child who proudly proclaimed that my dream career was to be a pediatric anesthesiologist. Already, that set me apart from my peers. While other children dreamed of being actors, dancers, astronauts, veterinarians, I dreamed of helping other children like myself.
By eleven years old, I was no stranger to doctors, waiting rooms, being poked, and prodded. I had already had my first surgery, an adenoidectomy, removing my enlarged adenoids that caused me to be sick three or four times a month. I had also been seeing my future spinal surgeon for three years by that point.
My first setback was in eighth grade, when I underwent Anterior Spinal Fusion Surgery at thirteen years old, and missed about five months of the school year. While most of my peers would have been excited by the prospect of missing out on so much schoolwork-I was devastated. During that time, I would make lists, of my favorite things, things that mad me happy, and things that I was looking forward to in the future.
My hopes and dreams were so full back then, and mostly involved looking forward to high school. High school, of course, came with its own setbacks and challenges for me. My parent’s separation and eventual divorce, my diagnosis of a genetic connective tissue disorder, and my grandfather’s death.
I persevered, though wearily, holding on to my ultimate goal: a college degree. My mother and father had not completed their own higher education, and had stressed to my older sister and I the importance of a college education. My high-achieving older sister was an excellent role model, especially for all of my scholastic aspirations, and I proudly watched her complete her degree at UCLA.
When it was my turn, I absolutely loved being in college. At the University of San Diego, I eagerly soaked up all the Sociology and Spanish classes, loved my work-study job and my coworkers, truly found my home as a Kappa Delta, and looked forward to the kids at my internship as part of the Southeast San Diego Tutoring Program. I had finally felt like the roadblocks were all behind me, and only great things would lie ahead.
Life is very unexpected, unfortunately, which I found out in December of 2014. I had come home for winter break, with only one suitcase, anticipating a month stay at home before returning back to USD early for sorority recruitment. The quality time spent with my family was interrupted by my strange symptoms of a constant fever and exhaustion. What was at first thought to be the flu ended up being my life-changing diagnosis of Systemic Lupus Erythematosus.
For a couple of months, I refused to accept that my life would have to change once again. I pretended that it was not another roadblock, as I stubbornly and precariously packed up my suitcase and told everyone I was returning to school. When my mom told me that I would most likely not be able to, I effectively threw a tantrum. It took my primary doctor’s refusal to allow me to return, and a good look at how sick I actually was to acknowledge this change.
During that time, I enjoyed being lazy and not having any adult responsibilities. I was too sick to drive myself, too sick to care about my clothing or appearances, and enjoyed once again being completely taken care of. I spent my time sleeping, and each day was filled with a visit to the doctor, which always exhausted me.
It was during my first hospitalization that I realized just how much I missed my old life, and how much I missed learning. From my hospital bed, I enrolled in Brandman University online.
Now it’s been almost two years since my chronic illness journey began, and I am so happy to say that I will be graduating from Brandman University this December, with my degree in Social Science. After that, I hope to earn my Masters degree in Public Health, to finally put my extensive medical knowledge to good use. I like to think that little blond pigtail me would be proud of what I have accomplished, despite the setbacks and roadblocks.
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