Here I am, about to graduate college. Only one out of approximately 40 different professors knows about my illness, and I only personally told about 10 of my classmates that I have cystic fibrosis. Actually, it was only within the past three years that I even started actively participating in the CF community and fundraisers. I never really wanted to actively publicize my illness in fear that people would think I’m asking for a pity party or some awkward form of sympathy.

I don’t think I ever really understood that I was chronically ill up until my preteen years. Throughout my elementary education, I was fortunate to be blessed with an extremely good bill of health, and so I lived every day just like any other child. I played outside, had play-dates and sleepovers, went to birthday parties, and fought with my older sister regularly (#sorrynotsorry). I’m really happy to say that although I developed a dreadful, painful barking cough that would last for weeks at a time at least once a year, I have very little memory of those instances. In hindsight, it’s amazing to think about how resilient children really are. So anyway, aside from the daily treatments, medications, and the typical CF cough, I lived a fairly normal life and was able to live most of my life without telling people that I am chronically fabulous -- oops! That I have cystic fibrosis, I mean ;)

Before high school, I never really thought too much about CF and never really felt the need to tell anyone. All of my teachers knew because I was required to go to the nurse to take my digestive enzymes during snack and lunchtime, but it was never discussed. Visiting the nurse was actually a bit of a treat, because I was able to bring a friend with me each time -- and at that time, most of the kids didn’t really care to ask why I had to go to the nurse in the first place, because they were just excited to leave the class for a little bit.

Fast-forward to high school, and my CF still wasn’t in the spotlight that much. More and more circumstances presented themselves when I had to explain why I take pills each time I eat or that my cough isn’t contagious, but I would always say, “I have a lung problem and can’t digest food.” No big deal. It was when I started to require annual hospitalizations that I had an issue accepting, myself, that I have a chronic illness as opposed to explaining my situation to other people. And to be honest, most people didn’t really ask. I had 3 or 4 close friends who I really opened up to about my concerns regarding my health; other than that, I hardly spoke about CF – not even to my family. I’d say that most of my thoughts and concerns about CF went into my personal blog, which I did publicize a bit but never learned who was actually following my story.

Back to present time, and I have had three, going on four different internships, more than four different babysitting gigs, a gymnastics instructor position, and several extracurriculars, and not once have I openly told any of my peers, coworkers or employers about my illness. The only time I told an employer was back in high school when I had worked as a party hostess and had to miss several shifts due to a PICC-line.

I do give people the opportunity to find out once I friend them on Facebook, but I have found that not directly telling people gives me peace of mind that no one will develop any strange biases about me being a sick person or think that I’m asking for pity. Also, I find that subconsciously, not telling people gives me an incentive to continue fighting for normalcy in my life. I find that dwelling on my illness really brings me down and might even have an impact on my physical health if I get upset enough.

I do want to say that I am by no means belittling those who do actively tell people about their CF. Each case of CF is different, and I completely understand that I have been very fortunate to have remained fairly healthy and have the ability to keep it under the radar in the first place. Also, I realize that I am not a typical CF patient because I have been blessed with the ability to take Kalydeco, which has brought my life to a level of normalcy that I never thought I would know. It's important to know that there are people with CF who require an oxygen tank, monthly IVs, and who are visibly ill. I am not at all ignorant to these instances, and I plan to devote the rest of my life fighting for these people. If you are a CF patient and have been gifted with the bill of health that I have, I greatly urge you to participate in creating that same gift for the rest of the CF population. It's the least we can do.

If you've gotten this far in the article, I'd like to thank you for reading, and I do hope that you will join the fight to make CF stand for "cure found." Please visit the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation website if you're feeling generous and would like to donate.