#cysticfibrosis #cf #chronicillness #chronicallyill #sixtyfiveroses #trikafta #spoonie When I was 2 I was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis, an incurable genetic disease. I distinctly remember when I was 8 years old and my doctor sat me down and asked me “do you know what a life expectancy is?”. I didn’t, because I was 8, and I never had to think of my own mortality before. You know. Because I was 8. Anyway. My doctors told explained to me that because of my Cystic Fibrosis, I could expect to life until about 30 years old. Again, being 8 at the time, I didn’t really grasp what that meant. But as I got older, that number started to seem shorter and shorter. 30 years feels like a long time when you’re 8. It feels much shorter when you’re 20. Then, in 2019, my entire life changed. I started taking Trikafta, a breakthrough medication used to treat (but not cure) Cystic Fibrosis. The change was immediate and drastic. All of a sudden I could do things I never dreamed of doing. My life expectancy went from 30 years to… well. I don’t know. I don’t really have a “life expectancy” number anymore. At first, that was exhilarating. Then it was terrifying. What am I supposed to do with all this time I’ve been given? What am I supposed to do with all this survivors guilt? To make a long story short, im still figuring it out.