As I lay in the hospital bed, I was aware of the beeping of the machines around me that were tracking all of my body’s vital signs. I was a victim of Pancytopenia, a rare bone marrow disease, that had already cost me too much of my life.
It started over a year ago, when I began to have trouble breathing, accompanied by pain in my chest. I had been to the doctor several times and was increasingly frustrated with their inability to diagnose my condition. Finally, after months of searching for an answer, I was diagnosed with Pancytopenia, which was causing a decrease in the number of red blood cells, white blood cells and platelets in my body.
While the treatments I had to undergo were trying and demanding, I was still more relieved than scared. I believed that I was finally on the path to recovery. Little did I know that this disease had already taken too much of a toll on my body and there was no going back.
I was in constant pain and my physical strength was quickly deteriorating. Little by little, the life I had known before was slipping away from me despite the countless medical procedures I was undergoing. My family watched in anguish as I grew weaker each day, unable to do anything to curb the effects of the disease.
Soon I found myself in the hospital, surrounded by beeping machines and doctors with long faces. Despite all of their efforts, I knew that I was not getting better and that I may never recover. As the darkness of despair descended upon me, I could only accept that the course of my life had changed and I could no longer fight the effects of this incurable disease.