My Hospital Story

“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person that walked in. That’s what the storm is all about.” -- Haruki Murami Introduction Have you ever felt like your life was suddenly taken away from you, and you were banished and trapped in another world? Well, I have felt like that. My name is Nell, and I’m twelve years old. A few years ago in February 2018, I was in the hospital for nearly a month. It all happened very suddenly; the sickness, I mean. In early January, I was loving life: skiing in Steamboat, Colorado with my family, gliding down fluffy white snow mountains with my big brother Jake, sipping hot chocolate on a soft couch in front of a warm crackling fireplace in the lodge. Then BAM! When I got back, I developed a mysterious sickness with belly pain and nausea, which we all thought was the flu ----- until it wasn’t. My symptoms weren’t getting better, and I even started to develop weirder symptoms, like dizziness and extreme fatigue. I seriously wanted to sleep all the time. I finally went to the emergency room. My doctors discovered inflammation in my brain on an MRI and quite a lot of it, which they diagnosed as a rare autoimmune disease. That discovery was the start of my long hospital experience. Who would have known that fateful day I entered the emergency room would lead to nearly an entire month of my life spent in a hospital bed, and then almost another year fighting to get my old life back? To make a long story short, I never really got my “old” life back. I mean, I did eventually get better -- that’s how I’m writing this book -- but I have a new life now. In some ways it’s better. Let me explain. Now don’t get me wrong: being in the hospital, away from my friends, with all sorts of needles in my arm and tubes up my nose, and suffering through endless respiratory treatments was just plain AWFUL. Even after fighting those battles, I had to re-learn how to walk, and write, and pick up my lacrosse stick. It was a fight mentally and physically, but the mental obstacles were the toughest to overcome. I wondered if I was ever going to play lacrosse or return to school and be a normal student again. It was especially hard because I knew nobody could really understand what I was feeling-- not even my amazing friends or my loving family. When talking to my family about some of my sad and angry feelings didn’t help, I expressed them through writing. My journaling became a sort of secret weapon for me to combat all of the frustration I was feeling. When I wrote, the pencil moved and my thoughts flowed onto the paper, transforming my negative thoughts into positive ones. I felt a little better each time I wrote, and eventually, I started to understand how much I gained from this challenging experience. In addition to how I helped myself, I received help from those surrounding me. They were the people who went a little or a lot out of their way to help me, pray for me, or just think about me. They were family, friends, teachers, coaches, nurses, doctors, physical and occupational therapists, and so many more, including people who didn’t even know me but heard about my situation. These people were my angels: not the kind with halos above their heads with wings, but actual people. I discovered so many angels through this whole experience. I’d like to be an angel to you, just as others were to me. I hope that the story of my battle will inspire you to keep fighting, and that my triumphs will give you the strength you need to succeed. Thank you for reading my book.