First Tattoo

July 19th, 2018

3:59 PM

England, United Kingdom

Kings Crossing Tattoo Parlor

With a brief Instagram story of my beaming smile and tightly closed eyes laying on a tattoo parlor chair, no one but close family and friends knew the words that were being written on my ribs.

The word, fighter, in the handwritten script of my mother and father. My dad wrote the beginning of the word while my mom finished it off.

I’ve been through a lot in my life living with cystic fibrosis. Situations that have left me weeping in my bed, holding back tears while my body is crying in pain, and times where I questioned if I would ever be able to come back from the trauma I had been through.

Well here I am, aren’t I? Still smiling, still holding a positive outlook in life despite it all.

I am a fighter.

I got this tattoo to symbolize all the strength that I have and the ever-growing strength that will come throughout my life.

I want to look in the mirror and see that tattoo as a reminder of everything I am. No matter how hard things will get in life, no matter how much I think I’ll never be able to push through; I will be reminded that I am someone who never gives up. I will get through anything and everything.

I may only have myself at the end of the day but there is comfort in knowing that I am capable of overcoming.

I will fight to live a long life. I will fight against this disease. I will fight for every single person I love in my life.

I got my mom and dads handwriting because I wouldn’t be where I am without them. I wouldn’t be on this earth, gifted with this beautiful life. They have given me the foundation to live a life that I will be proud of one day. They have covered me with love, appreciation, a home, a family; what more could I ask for?

Getting this tattoo was essential while I was in Europe because I knew it would be a time in my life that I wouldn’t want to forget.

The tattoo artist (who’s card I am trying to find to give credit to) had a family member who also suffered from cystic fibrosis. I had been so nervous that the pain would be too overwhelming and I wouldn’t be able to take it. Everyone had been hyping it up that the rib was the worst place to get a tattoo.

I asked him if it was going to be too painful and he responded with “This is going to be nothing compared to the pain that you’ve been through in your life.”

And he couldn’t be more right. The pain was near to nothing in comparison with a PICC line dressing change or the surgery recoveries that I had been through. It felt like a little bee sting for 15 minutes and then it was done.

A smile was etched on my face the entire time. I was so incredibly happy and content with how it came out and how good it felt to have it done.

 

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Have any of you had one done or have a first-time experience you want to share? Leave it in the comments!

Love,

I Am Free!

After all of the grueling days spent with fevers and an endless amount of pain, I am finally free.

I got out my PICC line out along with stopping all of the antibiotics and I couldn’t be happier.

I feel good, for once. My lungs don’t feel as though a pile of bricks is on them. I am no longer coughing to the point that I throw up. I am able to actually stand and go about life without possibly fainting.

I am also happy to announce that I am officially going to England this summer. It was a spur of the moment decision I made a month or so ago, I was able to get in all the documents, forms, and payments. Now it is official that I am heading off and I am so so excited.

I will only be gone for three weeks where I will take a creative writing course of some sort to get credits. I do not know what to expect but I do have family over there so hopefully, they can guide me if everything gets to be too much.

I love traveling and I always will. Being admitted through the dates that I was supposed to go on a trip was absolutely devastating. But you can’t plan for things to happen (now I know to always purchase travel insurance), life works in its own way.

In the hospital, I just kept thinking of getting away and seeing the most beautiful views in England.

Speaking of when I was in the hospital, I couldn’t tell you how grateful I was for all of the people who stopped to visit me. Even though it wasn’t that long of a stay, people came to see me and it meant the absolute world to me. So to those special people, thank you so so much for giving me company, cards, sweet treats, etc. I will always remember it and cherish you.

This admission was different than most because I truly was going about my medical decisions by myself. I spent every night alone and handled my doctors without my family. I actually felt like an adult for once and yes, it was terrifying but it kind of felt good too.

Twenty is really changing who I am and I am just going along with it.

Love,