Thanks, cystic fibrosis, for everything

Editor's note: This was written by Klyn Elsbury and submitted by her mother, Ann, with this note: “I just wanted to forward this ‘blog' to you in hopes you would share it with your readers. In today's world, when everything seems so gloom and doom, I thought it was refreshing to read something positive about something so deadly.”

(22÷33) x Hope

I celebrate my 22nd birthday this year from my private room at the University of Nebraska Medical Center. The life expectancy is 33. Any person in my situation would divide the two just to see how much life they have lived and what is left. .67 of my life has been lived. .33 is left.

I know that life expectancy changed, and at least I inherited a disease where there is hope. It doesn't limit my ability to communicate. I do not look different from other people (sure the fiery red hair is unique). My synap-ses send and receive information in a normal manner. It is true, I look completely normal.

However, I believe this blog shouldn't be any normal blog. It should be cheerful. It should focus on the positives of Cystic Fibrosis.

1. Thank you, Cystic, for making me intelligent. I now understand to get through college I need to study extra to make up for the two weeks every few months I am put into the hospital. Without this lesson, I wouldn't have a 4.0.

2. Thank you, Cystic, for teaching me to network and be resourceful. I know every person I meet I can one day form a relationship with that is beneficial for all parties involved. I refuse to be the girl that people forget. Cystic, you made me branch out of my box and enrich others' lives.

3. Thank you, Cystic, for making me money hungry. I know my battle with insurance and jobs will dampen my spirits. By teaching me to be aggressive and giving me intelligence, I can beat the insurance scandals and make Forbes' list in just enough time.

4. Thank you, Cystic, for making me love. Many people can't love those around them because they do not understand the value of life. By 22 years old, I have found and will marry the man of my dreams. I love my family despite hardships in growing up. I still have friends from elementary school. I genuinely love everybody who has come close enough to me to realize how short life is.

5. Thank you, Cystic, for making me strong. I may not be able to bench more than my 4-11 mother, but I can withstand emotional news that would break down the average woman into a pile of sobs. I do not cry. Many people say I have a level of emotion that is comparable to a straight line. Cystic, through killing my friends and keeping me alive, you made me strong.

6. Thank you, Cystic, for making me love my body. I hear about anorexia, bulimia. Women complain their breasts are too small or their hips are too wide. I hear women spending hundreds on outfits to impress the outside world. I hear makeup revenues stay constant, despite the economy — and yet, here I am in a hospital room without a shower. My hair is piled on top my head and my clothes came from Goodwill. I love my body. I have always thought I was beautiful. My legs carry me through troubled times, my shoulders convey confidence business executives have. My face is heart-shaped to reflect my personality, and my pale skin is evidence that I don't need makeup for a blemish. I love that sometimes my hips hug my jeans. I love waking up to see I am still that gorgeous girl.

7. Thank you, Cystic, for my ability to dream. I am not limited by that set of rules (that) bureaucracies have when they begin telling me to wait my turn in line. I know that true love is able to change a soul and miracles can happen. Thanks to Cystic, I know that the dreams I have are only attainable by looking some man in a suit down and telling him the way I expect things to work. My opinions are valuable and my dreams are conceivable and I don't need policies to validate that.

8. Thank you, Cystic, for my ability to seek out the good in the world. For example, there are some teachers this coming spring who are able to work with my needs to move to Florida and are busy trying to set up arranged courses. I am attracted to good quality, wholesome people and, in turn, they are attracted to me. Thank you, Cystic.

9. Thank you, Cystic, for my ability to eat all the chocolate I want. Most people can only have so many calories a day — but because I don't digest anything I eat, I can eat a bunch of chocolate without much complication at all.

10. Thank you, Cystic Fibrosis, for making me live. I may statistically be at .67, but the memories, events, love, friendships, stories easily make me years above my peers. As a result, I am friends with people in their forties and will continue to grow very quickly.

Cystic, you could of chosen anybody to kill. I'm really glad you picked me. Cheers to (.67 x hope) for a longer life with you.

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