memoir

I can trace my descent into chronic illness all the way back to age eight. Up until then, I was actually a healthy kid. Until then there was no mention of hospitals, tube feeding, IV nutrition, terminal illness, or unrelenting pain. None of that. Back then there was no talk about me having an eating disorder.

The first sign of any issues occurred in third grade when I began suffering from frequent pounding headaches.  

Another early sign of something amiss was how dry my body was. If I went a couple of hours without sipping on a drink I could put a finger in my mouth and move it around, and my entire mouth would be bone dry. 

My skin began to get very dry as well, and I noticed something odd, I no longer could sweat, no matter how hot the temperature was. 

Even my eyes were super dry to the point where it made my vision blurry.