Pills, examine, poke, repeat. That was my life. The doctors and nurses were my family, the hospital my home. Just a normal Tuesday consisted of four IV saline flushes, an X-ray, mashed potatoes and Monsters Inc. (on VHS). From the age of zero to eight that was my whole existence. I did say existence for a reason – it was no way to live at 4 years old. I wasn’t living, I was simply existing. Now I don’t mean to get all dark and depressing, but that is the truth and I won’t apologize for telling the truth.
Some people may be confused by all of this because I didn’t explain myself, let me do that now. I came to Omaha in 2006 for a liver, small-bowel, pancreas transplant at Nebraska Medicine. This meant lots of stays in the hospital for long periods of time. Blood draws three times a week, feeding tube and a suitcase full of medicine. The thing is, all of this stuff I’m talking about, I don’t remember any of it. I was so little, how could I? I hear stories from my parents and try to piece together the rest for myself. It’s a constant internal struggle because I don’t know half of what I’ve gone through. Isn’t there a saying: “What you don’t know can’t hurt you?”
I am 13 now and at the point in my life where I want to separate myself from the sick little girl in my past. Looking back, it doesn’t seem like me in the pictures and TV interviews I get to see. It seems like a different human being, separated by an eternity of time. The easy part about separating myself from this person is that there is no physical traces of her on my body. Until I lift up my shirt to reveal a bad scar but I don’t do that very much. She lets me live my life as a normal human being, in return, I don’t forget about her entirely. I’m not her anymore nor have I been for a very, very long time. I have unconsciously learned many things from her that I will be able to take with me in every aspect of my life. Bravery, compassion, empathy, wisdom and uniqueness.
Being “normal” isn’t something I’ve really had to work hard towards, it’s kind of just happened without a thought. I’m not saying I haven’t had the typical growing pains like heartbreak and anxiety, but that is normal. I don’t even enjoy the term “normal” because in the words of American Horror Story, “normal people scare me.” In fact, I am most likely the least normal person ever, and that does not have a lot to do with that sick little girl I used to be.
Here’s an example: A few weekends ago my best friend and I were having a sleepover. I don’t enjoy waking up early at sleepovers but she does. So we have this system going where she tries to come up with the most creative ways to wake me up in the morning, and they are always the most annoying things ever. One time she threw giant marshmallows at me until I woke up. Another time she downloaded a bullhorn app on my phone and blasted it in my ear. Now this time was by far the best. She lifts up my shirt and proceeds to stick individual Cheez-It crackers in my scar to see if they would balance. You see? Far from normal.
Some may think my experiences have affected my maturity and social skills. Now you see, humans, this is where you are wrong. When I walk into a room I sometimes feel like the most mature person in there (yes I am including adults). I have had many firsts this year that are rather mature for my age. First of all, I went to sleep-away camp for a month in Wisconsin, which was wonderful. I also had my first kiss and breakup. Both in the same week. Camp… it’s a long story. I’ve had my first day of middle school, first real boyfriend, and just had my Bat Mitzvah (it is the ceremony where I become a woman in the Jewish community). Some have say I am wise beyond my years or I’m an old soul. Maybe this has come from my experiences or maybe I was simply born that way, but I am very happy I am the way I am. In the words of Dr. Seuss, “Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you.”
I have learned to face my fears and not hide from them. To take a bad situation and to turn it into the motivation that pushes me forward. To have compassion and treat everyone as equals. Most of all, to accept and love myself despite every flaw, crease and crevice. I am not normal, because normal people have no courage. I am more than what I was when I was little, I am simply me. Daisy Friedman, 13 years old, aspiring actress and photographer, wanderlust traveler, dreamer of dreams, me!