I am home. Home is ever so nice; peace – that is what home is to me.

I have to say though; I had an awesome team that took care of me in the hospital, delightful people. I think I am going to be one of those people that write a letter. I wrote down all of my nurses’ first names and their last initial; I firmly believe an acknowledgment needs to be made.

A story that keeps circling in my head today . . . My friend, Deb, told me this a few years ago. It was a story actually her Dad, Louie, told Deb about my Mom.

My Mom came to my friends’ Debbie’s house, probably relatively soon after Deb and I met, got acquainted. We lived just kitty-corner from each other. I believe I was 7 almost 8 and Deb was 2 years younger (Deb correct me if I am wrong).

My Mom said to Louie or Julie, Deb’s parents, that I was very sick. My Mom didn’t know if it was wise, safe, something of that nature if Deb should be friends with me, because I was sick and I could die. I believe it was something to the fact that maybe they had a right to know. It was good for them to know that I had CF, sure; but to be friends with me or not because of it – that isn’t right.

Deb’s parents decided that they weren’t going to separate Deb and I, who knows what would happen with me, maybe nothing at all. Essentially, that is life and they weren’t going to do that to Deb, or me.

I have no idea how many more people, if my Mom told more people, that speech.

Were others nice to me because they thought I was going to croak? I believe I am a generally nice person, but the point is – by knowing that information how much of their assumptions, presumptions, supposing, experiences, perceptions changed their viewpoint towards me, and IF their viewpoints by knowing this about me changed the way they treated me because of it. Essentially – how much did people discriminate against me – conscious or subconscious, good or bad intentions. I am going to use that strong word, because that is what it is.

All of my life, I have wanted to be treated the same. I can do the same things, and some things better than others – just like anyone else. I have been aware of the differences between “healthy” children and myself, and what I have to do to perform at a certain level.

There was an article on me, my family, in a local newspaper when I was a little over 2 years old. My Mom is quoted, always makes me chuckle, “Tessa is not a retarded child. She has all her limbs and all her mental faculties, and in fact, CF suffers – I hate that term – are known to be over achievers” (“ABC Newspapers”, Friday, November 2, 1979).

Cystic Fibrosis is a crappy disease. People die from it all the time; thirty-seven years old is still the average age. I am usually always about five years behind it. As I age, the life expand, extends with me.

But, essentially it is a high maintenance condition. There is a lot of work involved. But, it is manageable IF you are committed to it.

I shook hands with CF almost 15 years ago. I walk with it, not in front it, and I don’t allow it to lead my life. CF is my friend – which is crazy, right? It has taught me more than anything I could ever image. At one time it was my nemesis, but really now it is my benefactor.

I have learned how to be, how to treat people, how to act, how to own, how to take responsibility. I have learned how to listen, when to stop, when to let go, and when to put the boxing gloves on and take them off. CF is also about maintenance no matter how many tools doctors, nurses, physical therapists give you. When you go home it is up to you – everything is always up to you. Take all that energy you put out into the world, and turn around right to you, because if you weren’t here today to set it in motion, it wouldn’t exist. Everything starts from you and you own it all.

This is the first time in my life, since an infant, I was hospitalized. Why? Because multitudes of stress. I tried to balance it as much as I could. Some I put on myself, some was given to me. That is that, onward and upward. I am in prime condition at my age. I feel so much better and I feel as if I have returned to my baseline – AND I CAN DO ANYTHING ANYONE ELSE CAN DO.

I started this blog to share with people, because by sharing you develop, and by giving you receive. I am also trying to entrust in people more. I am me, period. CF is a part of me, but not the whole.

I am lucky to be alive, every single day. Each birthday, each new year it is the same wish, commitment: to be healthy, to be out of the hospital, to be alive, and that is exactly what I am.