1 in every 100,000

A year ago in October, I was diagnosed with achalasia, a neurological disorder in which the muscles in your esophagus no longer function normally. You can’t eat or drink. It's like a car’s shift gear going from automatic to manual; it's new to you, and you have to relearn how to drive. 

According to the Windsor Center for Digestive Health, “Achalasia is a very rare disorder, affecting an estimated 1 in every 100,000 people.” Finding out you’re 1 in 100,000 might make your head spin, but when you find out what makes you that 1 in 100,000, it really alters your perspective and shows you that many people live an altered lifestyle because of different conditions that they randomly come across or inherit at random times in life. 

It felt like I was thrown into a sea full of crashing waves, when you can’t even swim. It was like I was abandoned when I needed a pillar of light the most, but when I felt abandoned, the two silver linings were my mom and being able to listen to music. I was finally able to find an escape from reality. Something that also helped me escape was knowing my mom was gonna be there every step of the way. She made sure I never felt like I was dealing with achalasia by myself, and she always made sure to keep a strong front, even when it felt like each and every doctor's appointment felt like another blow. On the other hand, music helped me escape the room that seemingly got darker by the day, that seemed to be stuck in time, but always managed to get darker. 

Getting diagnosed with a condition that is so rare that doctors will typically only ever have in between 3-4 known patients who may deal with the condition throughout their career. It was an eye-opener into the harsh reality. When i found out i had achalasia i never knew how serious it was until all these tests started to pile up within the span of just two months all because of one CAT scan it went from a simple CAT scan to see if i had pneumonia to X-rays on my chest, to sonography tests on my esophagus and eventually surgery all within the matter of mere weeks achalasia was found merely over me being sick and it was a huge coincidence even the doctors were surprised to find it by mere coincidence.

December 6th 2024 was the day i finally got surgery the week leading up to it felt abnormal it felt like i had gone on break for christmas weeks earlier before anyone else the last time i had been to school was the week before thanksgiving break it felt weird being home while everyone else was at school i never told anyone why i was getting surgery or why i had been absent for a week. The week felt like a moment trapped in time, the days leading up felt slow, and nothing seemed to change. Surgery day came. I never felt anxious or nervous. I just never knew what to expect because I knew that the person I was was never going to be the same for the rest of my life. 

As I waited in a gurney to be taken into the operating room, the waiting room felt empty even though there was people upon people bustling around like a freeway during rush hour 

when i got taken away to the operating room what stood out to me most was the last words my parents told me, “aqui vamos a estar.” it kept replaying in my head the sound of my parents telling me that they were going to be there for me even if i wasn’t awake to know. 

Hours later, I woke up, and the next 3 days to the following months felt surreal and lonely. After I had the surgery, it felt like a fever dream. All of a sudden, I woke up surrounded by doctors and nurses. Not being able to see my parents with what seemed like the crowd of doctors that were around me felt like I was put into complete isolation after surgery. It took thirty minutes before I could see my parents, and another hour and a half before I saw my surgeon, and another thirty minutes before I got transferred to the room I was gonna spend the next three days in as I recovered.

The path to complete recovery was all over the place when I most wanted to be involved with going out with my friends and going to school like everybody else. I was stuck at home, rotting in bed and listening to music. While I rotted in bed, music was like my best friend, the only thing that kept me company while everyone else went on with their day-to-day lives.

While in recovery it opened my eyes it gave me a greater appreciation for life because the life you live can change within an instant and life without pain is never guaranteed and neither is your future thats why im always reminded to live life to the fullest because there's only one life you can live and the possibilities are endless so it’s better to live a happy life rather than one full of regret.