You know the saying

I got an emergency liver transplant and diagnosed with four chronic illnesses at fifteen which was followed by three forms of rejection double organ failure and a re-transplant at 21. When everyone was dressing as the grim reaper, I found him knocking at my doorstep. 

The craziest part of my entire story, is that I’m really not all that special. Hard to believe, but if you were to stop and listen to everyone who has also worn the same shoes as I, who has walked the same path, you would realize that truly im not that special. 

And thats not humility talking, rather honesty. It’s me pulling the fire alarm, because somehow nobody is listening to the statistics or the children in hospital beds or the silence that haunts the rooms when a doctor looks in the eyes of a fifteen year old, tearing away their hope of ever being normal as seamlessly as he dismissed his missed breakfast.

Chronic illness, cancer, and sickness is not reserved for the old. Its not reserved for the bad or the evil. it’s not reserved for any class, gender, person of any group. Sickness doesn’t know discrimination. It mocks the egos of those who once believe it was greater than. So while you may think you’re the exception, I can and I will tell you, just as unspecial as I am to be sick you’re just as equally not special to be healthy. You’re lucky. 

Do not take your luck for granted, do not abuse the power your health holds. Because sickness doesn’t care. One day you won’t be able to eat the slice of cake, or go out with your friends to dinner. You won’t be able to take an afternoon walk, or dance in the rain, feel the sunshine glaze your skin and the breeze kiss your arm.

There will come a day, you will not be able to do what you once didn’t think about as more than the mundane, embedded in your muscle through daily repetition. You won’t notice, until you cannot so easily carry a glass filled a little too high shaking just enough to splash the floor, or you notice your penmanship softening- looser and weaker in your signature. The small things, minuscule even- will sneak out the back door until you don’t feel like yourself. Then and only then, you will look in the mirror, confused as to who is staring back at you. For the reflection no longer wears the crown health beholds as the people around you do. That is when you will realize, we are all not so special as we may deem ourselves to be. We are none in any exception of sickness.