Coniglio+TELL+Rough+Draft

Kate Coniglio Foundations of College Writing - Dr. Sherry December 4th, 2013

THE PAST

Growing up, I was always a pretty healthy kid. With a health nut for a mom, it was basically impossible for me to be anything else. Sure, on the rare occasion I would catch the common cold, but my immune system of an ox would start fighting it off instantaneously. My mom was almost completely against vaccinating me as child. She said that letting me get sick from time to time would help my immune system in the long run. This even included me weathering through the chicken pox at the end of the summer before my freshman year of high school. It wasn't fun. However, despite all this I had always been a healthy kid. That was, until my senior year of high school. It started off like any other fall semester, except this time there was the added stress of applying to colleges. At that point, I basically knew that Bloomsburg was the only place for me. Literally, there was nowhere else I was applying to. It was Bloomsburg or bust. I applied and waited for the mail to come saying whether or not I was accepted based on my junior year grades I had worked so hard to maintain. The letter came, and they wanted to see my first semester grades of my senior year before making the decision. My mind was in shock. Now I had to work extra hard for a whole extra semester to even have a chance at a future. The pressure was high. About halfway through the semester, I started to get sick unexpectedly and it got progressively worse. I would feel sick to my stomach and was in so much pain that I couldn't even get up. There were many doctor's appointments, missed school days and mysterious illness ideas. I worked extra hard from home to keep up with what I was missing in my classes. My grades were good, but I wasn't doing so good. However it didn't matter how I was feeling the day I got a letter from Bloomsburg. I remember just holding the letter in my hands as my family stood around me waiting for me to open it. I slowly opened it and relief washed over me. I had been accepted. I had a future. As great of news as that was, that wasn't the end of my illness troubles. I continued to fluctuate. Some days I would feel great, others I would feel like my stomach was trying to kill itself. A surgery, lots of blood work, and thousands of dollars later, we had somewhat of an answer as to what was wrong with me, and they put me on medication I still take to this day. Since they're not definite as to what //is// wrong with me, the medication doesn't always work. I find illness to be a weird thing. It's something that can take away things that are important to you, but it can also make you a stronger person. For me it did both. I lost a lot of time in my senior year because I was stuck at home clutching my abdomen. Yet it made me work harder for what I knew I needed for a better future for myself.

THE PRESENT

I wake up on a Monday morning to two painful things: the shrill beeping of my alarm clock, and my stomach doing what it usually does in the morning when it's mad at me. I turn off the alarm and try to sit up, my gut screaming at me for doing so. I get up and take my medication to see if it will decide to help my cause today. It doesn't. I crawl back into bed in the fetal position knowing that if I go to class, I may be there physically but I won't be there mentally, meaning I won't be able to focus. This has been my life for the past year now. The absences in my classes continue to pile up as my condition flares up for weeks at a time. I need regularity. Something to keep my body from freaking out. But nothing seems to work. I'm on my own with no idea how to call a doctor or even where to call. They don't teach you that in school. I don't go to the Health Center because I don't need checked out. I know what's wrong, and it's become a norm for me to feel this way, however painful it is. I meet with teachers to keep up with work, but I'm falling behind. Before I know it, it's the week before finals and if I don't get a doctor's note fast, my absences are all unexcused and I'm going to fail. My mom says she can get the doctor's office to fax a note to the Dean of Students the next day. That's a load off my chest. For once I cry tears of joy instead of pain. There's a glimmer of hope that I can pass my classes if I just continue to make up all the work. I look over this first semester and realize I'm probably doing this whole illness thing to myself. Stress can literally make you sick. You try not to let it take over your life but with your whole future on the line, it's kind of hard not to. Being stressed has become a normal thing. It shouldn't be. I find illness to be different now than I did a year ago. Now I just see it as something that can take things away from you and take over your life. I lost a lot of things this first semester of college that I can't get back because of being sick.

THE FUTURE

My future is mysterious. I don't know what I'll be doing in four years. Through my first semester, my outlook on life has changed immensely. I came here thinking I wanted to be a teacher of deaf students, knowing full well that the education program here at Bloomsburg was going to be tough. But now, I'm thinking maybe it isn't for me. I could change my major, but in all honesty I don't know what I want at this point. In the future though, I hope I will figure out what I want and be happy doing whatever I'm doing. There's a lot of "what if?"'s and "why not?"'s to be asked between now and then. With regards to illness, I hope by then I'll magically be cured. Maybe there will be some perfect medication invented in the future that will always make me feel better and I'll always remember to take it, even when I'm feeling good. But as I don't see that happening anytime soon, I guess I'll have to have a new outlook on illness. I hope I can get to a place where I can push through the pain and work my hardest for what I want. I hope to get back to that mentality I had in twelfth grade where I saw illness as something that makes you stronger as a person. I can start shaping that mentality now, but it is a gradual process and transition. I have high hopes for my future as someone who deals with pressures and stress that I do. I can only get better at managing it with time.