New and Improved

My first ever blog post was about my diagnosis. Recently after that my writing teacher wanted me to rewrite it for homework. After almost 2 months of rewriting and working hard this is what we came up with. Sorry I never posted it sooner!
       
                                                            My Diagnosis

I woke up with a strange feeling, not only was I terrified and nervous but it was like I was in a
 daze. The clocked turned to 7:21 a.m. and my alarm started beeping. I rolled over and turned my alarm off and stood up. I walked to the kitchen like I would do on any normal day, and was greeted by both my parents. I dressed in my most comfortable basketball shorts with a t-shirt and my favorite sweatshirt and threw my hair into a ponytail.
    It was a very long and boring ride to my appointment. I laid down in the back seat of my dad’s new Maxima, and put my headphones in. I tried hard to drown out the sounds of the busy morning world and my parent’s conversation by listening to Justin Bieber’s new album. I began to think about things. I was almost positive I had fibromyalgia. Through my almost two years of research, and even though many doctors told me I was wrong, I knew I had all the symptoms; I knew that this was what was ruining me. It was what was making my life horrible, and was making me endure this pain and fatigue.
    I must have fallen asleep. Because after what seemed like twenty minutes, the car stopped and my mom told me we had arrived. I looked out the window and saw a large city around me with tall buildings and many people. That’s when I really became nervous, for I am terrified of crowds. I stepped out the car, put my backpack on and looked around. I was still tired and slightly out of it, for it was only 8:49 a.m. and my usual wakeup time is between 9:00 and 10:00. My dad waved goodbye and left to go to work. I guess I thought he was gonna stay, I wanted my father to stay with me.
    We walked into the Duke Children's Hospital and everywhere I looked there were sick children, probably alot sicker than I am. I wanted to run away, run far away from this place. I didn't want to accept the fact that I was sick, that I was not going to get better. My mom checked into the Rhuemotology Center as I continued to look around. I began to feel dizzy as reality began to hit me. I am really sick. This is not just flu, it isn't going to go away after a couple weeks. I have been living in denial for the past two years. Wanting to know whats wrong with me, but at the same time, not believing I was really sick. This doctor’s appointment was not the same as the countless other ones I have had. I have waited more than three months to see this doctor, who is one of the best in the country. I felt selfish that I was here, that I was using up these doctors time when they could be helping children that were more sick than I was.  People travel from all around the country, and sometimes other countries, to go to this hospital. This must mean I am really sick, that this is truly a serious thing.
    I was pulled away from this thought at the sound of the nurse calling my
name. “Ellington Emery? Come on back!” she said this with such enthusiasm, like this wasn't
the worst day of my life. She smiled as I stood up and followed her and my mom into the back
room. The halls were filled with the smell of cleaning supplies and flowers, and everywhere I
looked I saw sick children, most a lot younger than me. I heard them crying and screaming. I
passed one room with this little girl, who looked like she was about eight years old, sitting in a chair. She was bald, but she had a cute pink bandana on. She saw me walking by and smiled the most beautiful smile I had ever seen and waved to me. I waved back and continued to follow the
nurse. I will never forget that little girl, who gave me hope. Hope that I can still be happy, even
though I am sick. We finally stopped at Room 23, “Just wait here until the doctor comes.” said
the nurse with the same enthusiasm she had before.
    As she left the room and shut the door, I looked around. I sat down in a hard green plastic chair next to my mom. “I think you are supposed to sit on that bed over there,” mom said as she pointed to the bed in the middle of the room. I shook my head “no”, as I pulled my legs up onto the chair with me and hugged them.  My mom sighed and picked up a magazine. I was truly terrified. There was no way I was going to sit on that bed unless they made me. I stayed in that little green chair in the corner and looked around the room. There were posters for everything from a friendly reminder to get your kid a flu shot, to how to deal with childhood cancer. After what seemed like hours of sitting in that tiny, firm chair,the Doctor knocked on the door, and in came a tall, skinny, young looking man.
    “How are you folks doing today?” he asked with excitement as he shook our hands.
    “We are doing alright..” answered my mom.    
    “You must be Ellington! I am Dr.Mater!” he said as he sat down and faced me. I was so apprehensive I couldn't make myself answer. I continued to sit, hugging my knees, in that tiny green chair. I nodded while my mom answered him, “Yes, but we call her Ellee. Nice to meet you Doctor Mater.”
 “Ellee, what a cool name, so what brought you here today?” Answered Doctor Mater. My mom began explaining how I had a severe case of mononucleosis two years ago and have never really recovered. She also explained how I can never sleep at night, and am always sick and am in a great deal of pain. She went into more detail as I handed Dr. Mater a book that I had made, explaining how I thought that I had fibromyalgia. It also had a list of my symptoms next to a list of Fibromyalgia’s symptoms. I stared blankly at the ground in front of me as he read the book, still hugging my knees in the little chair. He seemed impressed by my book as he continued talking with my mom.   I sat and stared around the room in such a daze that I never really heard half of what they were saying.
    “Alright miss Ellee, come sit on this bed for me!” Dr. Mater said, breaking my daze.
I cautiously stood up and walked to the bed as I heard my mom whisper, “It’s alright Ellee.”
    Dr. Mater began putting on gloves as I sat on the bed. He asked me to lay down as he began moving my legs around. He asked me to tell him which movements hurt me, and almost every single one did.
    After moving around my arms and listening to my breathing he was done.
    “Alright, let me go talk to another doctor then we will both come back in. Hopefully with a diagnosis!” he said as he began to walk out the door.
    “Well that was quick!” my mom exclaimed as I jumped off the bed and went back to resume my original position, hugging my knees in the little green chair.
    “Yeah......” I whispered; this was the first thing I had said that morning. My mom went back to reading her magazine, knowing that I didn't want to talk, and I started to think. What would I do if they said I had something other than Fibromyalgia? What would I do if they told me I did have Fibromyalgia? I didn't know. I just didn't know. I continued to think about that until Dr. Mater came back in with a a tiny little lady with dark brown hair. “Hi, Im Dr. Gean, the
rhuemotology specialist here at Duke.” She explained how Dr. Mater was a new doctor here at Duke, because this hospital is in fact, a teaching hospital.
    “Well, why I don't I check a couple things right now,” Dr. Gean said, giving Dr.
Mater a weird look. “Ellee, come take a seat up on the bed again please.” Dr. Mater insisted. I
slowly got up, to once again sit on the dreaded bed. Once I was comfortably there, Dr. Gean
went through all the same things Dr. Mater had done, asking me to tell her where it hurt, just like
he did. Then she did something I didn't expect. She pushed on one spot on my back that sent a
horrible stabbing pain through my body. “Did that hurt?” she asked. I nodded “yes”, because the
pain left me unable to speak. She pushed on about 15 different spots on my body that sent that
same pain through me. At first I was confused, but then I remembered something that I had read.
About 18 spots on the body that become tender with Fibromyalgia. Dr. Gean was
testing to see if I had this disease. The smile on her face left and she became serious.
    “Ellee, from what I have observed and what Dr. Mater has told me, I have come to the conclusion that you have something called Fibromyalgia.” My mom’s face went blank as I began to cry. I couldn't hold it in.
    This was a bittersweet moment for me. I was relieved to have a diagnosis but I didn't
want this one. I wanted to have something that could be cured. Fibromyalgia can not be. Both doctors began to explain to my mom and me about Fibromyalgia, not knowing that I
knew everything about it from my research, and that my mom actually has Fibromyalgia. I got
up and went to sit back in that hard little green chair, I wanted to leave. I wanted to just get out of
this place. I hugged my knees as the doctors told my mom that Fibromyalgia can be fixed, which
we both knew was a lie. They were just trying to make us feel better. They quietly left the room as I began to cry even louder. I wanted to scream and kick and just run away. My mom tried to
comfort me but I just pushed her away.
    When I began to calm down, we left. My mom had to
checkout and finish some paper work, so I went to the bathroom. People stared at me as I walked
down the hall crying my eyes out. That look of sorrow and gloom in their eyes made me cry
even more, so I began to run. I burst through the bathroom door and stayed in a stall
crying, until my mom found me. She hugged me tightly then quietly helped me wipe my
tears. We left the bathroom in silence and sat in the waiting room because my dad wasn't there to
pick us up yet. I watched the sick kids walk by with their parents and get excited about the giant
fish tank; they probably didn't realize how sick they were. I wish I was that young, and carefree,
not realizing how sick I was. I wish I couldn't comprehend the fact that Fibromyalgia is
considered a disability. I wish I didn't understand that I am going to be sick for the rest of my
life.
    “Come on Ellee,” my mom said as she stood up to leave, “Daddy’s here.” I stood up and
followed her with such unhappiness and grief within me. I got scared as we walked through a
crowd and tried to get to my dad’s car. I quickly got into the back seat and started to cry again.
    As my mom explained everything to my dad, the car went silent. We began to drive
home and I put my music back on. I wanted to just forget everything that happened. The car ride
home felt so long, when it really only took us an hour. We pulled into our driveway and it was
only 12:00 p.m. It was such a beautiful day with the sun shining and the birds chirping. I walked
slowly but surely into the house and straight to my room, ignoring the questions from my
siblings. I laid in my bed and cried for hours. This diagnosis will change my life, for the better and for the worse.