November 15th.

Three years ago I went paralyzed from the neck down. I was sixteen and the happiest I had ever been in my entire life. 5 months prior, I had gotten my first job (and it actually paid above minimum wage). A month later, I passed my driving test on the first try. The beginning of the school was off to a great start; I had stellar grades, and a role in my school’s production of Romeo and Juliet. I felt invincible. But clearly, I was not. We didn’t know it at the time, or even for weeks after the fact, but I was preparing for the fight of my life. It’s only in retrospect that we can really think about how close to death I was. I believe it’s that way because when you’re so close to dying, you don’t think about death. You think about life.

The first two weeks that I was paralyzed are a complete blur in my memory, and that’s probably for a good reason. I’ve been told so many things about what I was like in those two weeks. Obviously the first thing I was was drugged. Because of this I’m not sure how much of what was happening to me was actually registering in my mind. My mom has told me that I was determined to be out of the hospital by the end of the week in time to perform in Romeo and Juliet. And when that didn’t happen I was focused on Thanksgiving, which we inevitably ended up spending in the ICU. After Thanksgiving passed, the next date was Christmas. But it no longer was my goal to be home. My only Christmas wish was that I had full use of my hands again. That also never happened, but I guess paralysis overrules the magic of Christmas miracles. It took me months to realize that I was going to be in this for the long haul. Somewhere around February, it dawned on me that I could sill be in the hospital on my birthday, April 29^th. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. (I beat it by a whole day!) But still, the realities of what I had already lost, and had yet to lose hadn’t totally sunk in yet.

If someone told me beforehand that I would lose my best friend, as well as countless other relationships, and my prime teen years, I probably would have laughed in their face. I was sixteen, just beginning my life. My best friend and I promised to always be there for each other, even fantasizing about being each other’s bridesmaids when our wedding days would come. Little did I know, my life would never be the same.

But I can’t focus on all of the bad things this disease has thrown at me, because honestly, it’s done some pretty amazing things for me. First of all, it gave me the ability to realize who my true friends are, even though it’s not fool proof. I’m still learning, even now, that some people are very good at hiding their true personality even if you’ve known them for a year. Another is that for every dead friendship, there was a brand new one waiting for me on My Devic’s Family, a wonderful group of wonderful people who share the same disease as me. They’ve all “been there, done that” and can share their experiences with me. I learn so much from them each and every day. Last week, I traveled to LA to attend a conference and meet a whole bunch of them. They’re some of the best people I’ve ever met. Being sick has also given me the ability to find beauty as well as humor in all things. It was the only thing that got me through six months in the hospital.

But most importantly, it’s taught me to love harder, to mean everything I say, and to live every day like it’s my last. There’s no time for regrets; you only get one chance.