A young teenaged boy writes of the frustrations of being a chronically illl child and having to put up with people's misunderstandings about him.
I wish people would treat me with more understanding or respect whenever they first see me.
I mean, they treat me like I am some sort of freak becaues I happen to be very small for my age (at the age of 13, I look more like I am five or six), and also happen to be on medications for the rest of my life. (I have to be on this medication because I had a kidney transplant, and if I don't take the medications, then my body will try to reject the kidneys, and I could die. So I take these medications in order to stay alive.)
I was born with kidney problems, and I have had several transplants already (the last one being when I was nine, four years ago). I have been in and out of hospitals as long as I can remember, and pain, suffering, shots, and doctors and nurses have always been my constant companions when growing up. Between the transplants I had, I spent my days being on a waiting list for kidneys, and I had to go to the hospital several times a week so I could be on dialysis, which kept me alive and kept me going until my body was strong enough to withstand the rigorous demands of transplant surgery, from which I was always slow to recover. Each surgery meant a very long and painful recovery period for me.
Because I am little for my age and because I can't play contact-type sports (if I DO get hit in the kidney region, they can rupture, and I can then quickly die), I am often teased, and people often don't understand what I have had to go through just in order to stay alive. If only they could see the scars all over my belly or the needle marks on my arms, or understand all the pain, pokes, and proddings I have had to go through, then they would know, but until they do, then they should keep their big mouths shut, and keep their comments to themeselves, and leave me the hell alone! I mean, a guy can only take SO much before he snaps--
I also have had to put up with my dad divorcing my mother when I was little and not knowing whether he is alive or dead. (I haven't heard from my dad in two years, and he's even gone as far as not sending me a card or calling on the phone on my birthday or during holidays like Christmas or Thanksgiving!) He and mom had a very messy divorce, and what I DO remember is that they were always yelling and fighting with each other, even as I lay dying in the hospital, waiting for my new kidney. It was a very bad time, and I remember lying there in my hospital bed, wishing that I was dead, so I wouldn't have to listen to mom and dad's fighting any longer.
I really don't like to talk all that much about my parents' divorce or my being sick all the time because they were such horrible times for me, and I don't like to be unhappy; but when people don't treat me fairly or bring up past hurts and then pick on me about them, then why SHOULD I be happy? It's no wonder I don't like being around people UNLESS I know them well enough (like my neighbors or the kids at school, as two examples. or my mom)!
I am embarrassed about being small, or having to be the last one to be picked for sides during gym (that is, if I am allowed to play; sometimes I can't participate in gym activities because of risk of injury to my kidneys), and I hate being treated like a freak by the kids in my class! I am NOT retarded, I am NOT crippled, and I am smart enough to know when people are being unfair to me! I am a lot smarter than what a lot of people think!
All I ask for is people to treat me like the thirteen-year-old kid I am, not like some baby, and try to understand what life has been like for me and show me a little in the way of dignity and respect and NOT poke fun at my pain and/or misfortunes!
Spoken Word
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