I was sitting at the kitchen table trying to catch up on all the school I had missed from being sick. I was looking down at my Psychology textbook wondering how I would ever get caught back up. I stared into the empty voids of my blank homework sheet, as if the answers would jump out at me. My dad caught on quickly. His eyebrows clenched inward as he noticed my hands. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked in a concerned tone.

“Just catching up on school, why?” I reply.

“Well, your hands are shaking,” he exclaimed. 

My face immediately turned red as a tomato. I tried to think of an excuse for my excessive hand movement. In an attempt to avoid any more confrontation, I packed up my school books and retreated to my room. I didn’t want anyone to know how damaging this really was for me. My head quickly filled with worry and regret like I had just committed some heinous crime. 

As I laid down on my bed, I felt a volcano of emotions erupt within me. In my head all I could hear was, “Give up.” I was weeks behind in school, and I had almost lost my job due to the fact that I couldn’t work for weeks on end.  Now I have to miss another two weeks of school to get a surgery that I didn’t think would help. Boy, was I wrong.

The previous years had been a nightmare for me. I would get sick every other week to the point where my knees would tremble as soon as I stood. My neck would become as stiff as a board, and I couldn’t even eat anything, nor did I want to. Each gulp felt like I had just drank a cup of needles. I would lie in my bed all day, as if I was paralized, praying that sleep would solve my problems. It didn’t. “Would anything?" I thought. We already tried dozens of tactics: pills, treatments, and hundreds of dollars spent. However, I would still approach every doctor’s office with a smile and good attitude, hoping that they would finally be able to diagnose my symptoms. But no one could, not even the ENTs (Ear Nose and Throat doctor).

 After searching for months with no answers, we eventually reached a team at Children's Hospital. They were migraine specialists, who concentrated on making my life better. It took no longer than a 30 minute session with them before they came to the conclusion of tonsillectomy. 

Only a few short months later, I had my tonsils and adenoids removed. According to my surgeon, my adenoids were in such poor condition that she had them tested for cancer. This, of course, was very unsettling for my parents. 

After three agonizingly painful weeks of recovery, it was over. I was finally healthy again, and I got my life back. Immediately my grades skyrocketed. I was able to resume sports. I was finally able to travel the world again with my family without having to stay in the hotel room while they got to experience the vast wonders of Europe. I couldn’t even say my life was back to normal because it was actually better than before. 

I always used to say to myself, “Why me?” Why do I have to be the one to go through this? To have to struggle? All this time I resented the obstacles in my life. I have now come to grips with the fact that life is those obstacles. I now feel strong enough to push through any obstacles and live my best life.