Molly

Chronic recurring kidney stones, Urinary Retention, Pelvic Floor Dysfunction

I was sixteen when my life started revolving around hospitals instead of classrooms. What I thought was the worst pain of my life, turned into years of chronic kidney stones, urinary retention, cycles of catheters, pelvic floor dysfunction, daily antibiotics, and recovery. I learned medical terms most people never have to know, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I thought the physical pain was the hardest hurdle, but losing grip of everything I once knew hurt worse. In fact, I wanted to be a nurse but the thought of dealing with medical tasks outside of my patient life felt daunting. I wanted to run from and escape it, not be more surrounded. 

There were months when the emergency room felt more familiar than my own bed. The pain would come in waves so sharp it stole my breath, leaving me doubled over with nausea and exhaustion. Some days, I couldn’t sit through class without feeling the heavy ache in my back, where the school nurse and my guidance counselor became my lifelines. IV poles replaced backpacks, and my teammates moved on without me while I watched from hospital windows. I missed school dances, soccer games, and weekends with friends because my body had other plans. It’s hard to explain what it’s like when something as basic as using the bathroom becomes a daily challenge. When your body doesn’t cooperate, and every day feels like a test of patience and endurance. It may not even seem like a big deal to not be able to urinate normally, but it’s taken everything from me as I am unable to work and had to drop out of grad-school. I pass about 1-2 kidney stones a month, and have had multiple procedures and surgeries. It seems as though one problem leads to another. I also have IBS, possible Chrons and possible endometriosis (looking for a doctor that’ll listen and diagnose). As of late, I also have been getting a bunch of tests done for pancreatic cancer. Don’t have any results, but staying hopeful.

It’s hard to think about how long it’s been–6 years now! It makes me sad to think of how bad it’s gotten, but even in those moments, I found small victories. Getting through a day without pain meds. Laughing with a nurse who remembered my name. Passing a class I had to complete from a hospital bed. I learned to advocate for myself, to speak up when something felt wrong, to push for answers. Living with chronic illness has taken a lot from me, but it’s also given me perspective. I’ve learned that strength isn’t always loud; Sometimes it’s quiet, steady, and stubborn. It’s showing up to the next appointment, the next class, the next day, even when you were up all night feeling so sick and you’re tired of fighting. My journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s made me resilient in ways I never expected. I may carry this condition with me for the rest of my life, but I refuse to let it define who I am. Because even when my body feels fragile, my spirit isn’t, and that to me is its own kind of healing.