When people hear the word “disease” come out of my mouth, they automatically hold their breath, and take two steps back with the assumption that I have something they can “catch” or that I'll be gone tomorrow. Since the age of two, I’ve been back and forth to the hospital so many times that I literally refer to it as “my second home”. This is what it’s like to live a life with a hereditary blood disorder and it's surprisingly more common than you’d think, affecting over 100,000 African Americans and Latinos nationwide.

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Although there hasn’t been much research, the research that we do have confirms that the pain from a sickle cell crisis can be more intense than childbirth or breaking a bone, and the life expectancy is roughly fifty years old— if you’re lucky— and adopt the lifestyle of a raw vegan, alkaline drinking, yogi who can't enjoy alcohol, junk food, or other vices.

 

The point is: Sickle Cell doesn’t care how old you are, it doesn’t care if you want to live your best life and have fun. Sickle Cell forces a specific level of discipline that not many can muster— something as simple getting in a swimming pool is a serious contemplation for me and contrary to popular belief I'm a black person that likes to swim. But as much as I dislike all of the planning, healthy lifestyle habit changes, and new things I had to implement into my life just to stay alive— I despise all the needles, blood transfusions, and cold hospitals during nights of unimaginable pain even more.

 

So to be honest, Sickle Cell is nothing short of a gift. Maybe a bit of a shitty gift, but the discipline it has taught me is invaluable.