Just one night after my very first prom (I was a freshman going along with a senior friend), I ended up doubled-over in pain. Pain so bad I was in and out of the bathroom expelling my insides into the porcelain bowl. My mother knew something was up. High pain tolerance runs in the family. Late in the evening, she managed to get my doubled-over 15-year-old self into the backseat of our car to head to the ER in the town over.

On the way to the ER, I couldn't even think straight my pain was so bad. Once there, they make you pee in a cup and wait for what seems like a lifetime. But had I known what I now know back then, the ER places middle-aged people experiencing chest pain far ahead of teenagers with some "severe" abdominal pain.

Once in a room, my nurse asked me the same questions the check-in woman asked. "Rate your pain on a scale of 1-10. Where is the pain? What are your other symptoms? Are you sure you're not on your period?" After the interrogation, the doctor made his way into my dimly lit room. He introduced himself and said my symptoms coincided with a stomach bug that was making it's way around in the area. He then sent me home with some prescribed pain medicine.

I knew it wasn't a stomach virus the moment he suggested so. I had something way worse happening to my body. I ended up missing school that Monday and back in the ER with even worse pain Monday night. I hated missing school in high school (still do), and I received numerous texts from friends asking why I wasn't in class or at track practice.

Back in the ER, my doctor was a woman who pressed around on my abdomen, unlike the doctor the night before. Not wanting to miss anything, she ordered a CT scan. They made me drink what seemed like a whole liter of liquid that tasted like citrus soap. This liquid makes its way through your body in order for the radiologist to see all of your organs on the scan. But that wasn't important to me back then, what I wanted was some pain relief and an answer.

Once being wheeled down a series of maze-like hallways, I was put through a donut-shaped machine that instructed me to hold my breath at various times. I made it back into the room and was feeling pretty decent after having a dose of morphine or two.

A few hours later (it was now into the early hours of the morning), my doctor came back into the room. She turned off the TV we had on in order to stay awake. Then, she told me I had an ovarian cyst the size of a grapefruit that needed follow-up outside of the ER.

Now, at that time I did not know what a cyst was, let alone that one could grow on your ovary and cause that much pain. I was happy to have an answer to my symptoms, but weary of the road ahead.

I was discharged home and referred to an OB/GYN in the closest Colorado town to us. During my first appointment with her, she stated my cyst needed to be surgically removed and due to its size, if it was attached to my right ovary, my ovary would also need to be removed.

Here I am, 15 and now thinking about whether I actually wanted children in the future and if losing an ovary would affect that. I had no time to think about that though. About a week later, I was being wheeled into the operating room for the first surgery of my life, but not the last. Luckily, my cyst was actually on my fallopian tube and easily removed.

The next year or so consisted of ER trips in the night (that's when the pain is the worst) about every three months or so. I would come home from a night out on a date or from soccer practice with crippling pain that forced me to crawl on all fours from the front door back into my bedroom on the other side of the house. Each time I would tell them my pain felt just like my ovarian cyst, and each time they would order an ultrasound. My results would then show either a small cyst, too small to remove, or no cyst at all, but one that had probably already burst.

After so many visits to the ER with no clear idea of what to do, my ER doctor at the time suggested setting an appointment up with a gastroenterologist.

My first visit with the gastroenterologist back home was just the beginning to a currently endless road. Through the past four years, I have seen three different gastrointestinal doctors, had a colonoscopy at age 19 (usually those are saved for later in life, like way later), had my gallbladder removed and had four endoscopies, the most recent one being three weeks ago.

Through the numerous tests, appointments and symptoms, I have been told the diseases I don't have and instructed to do many different things. I have been told to change my diet, eat less acidic foods, eat smaller meals, eat less fatty foods. I've been told I don't have Chrohn's, IBS, Celiac, H. pylori or stomach ulcers, some of the most common abdominal pain causes. The mystery still remains: what is going on in my body?

I used to get extremely frustrated with my symptoms and the dead ends that were associated with them. Why wasn't anyone believing me? Was this all in my head? Was something genuinely wrong with me? Why haven't we found an answer yet? But then I realized there was no use in being bitter about my situation. I needed to put in to my life what I wanted out of it: positivity.

At the current moment, I experience nausea and pain almost immediately after eating a mere two or three bites of any kind of food. Sometimes, I even experience these symptoms after having a few sips of water. In addition, I get abdominal pain at least once a day, most of the time more often. Not ovarian cyst pain, but much different. In addition, I have acid reflux. This could be considered a symptom of something bigger going on, or an illness in itself. Sometimes I vomit so much, I end up having a panic attack. As I am writing this article, I haven't had more than half a cheese stick in six days.

Despite all this, in addition to having to wait on the results of my recent endoscopy and CT scan results along with phone calls back from my doctor, I know that I will eventually find an answer to what is going on. However, it's still hard at times to not get frustrated. The key with a chronic illness is to remain positive. To know that these symptoms will not last forever, and that even if an answer is not found in the end, everything will be OK. And another enlightening practice that helps, as always, is prayer.

I have so many things going for me in my life, it's hard to want to stop and focus on the one negative thing. I have a loving family, great friends, fun coworkers and a dog who is happy to lay by my side as I'm sick beyond measure and loves me even if we lay in bed all day. I am one year away from completing my undergraduate and continuing my education to earn a Master's and PhD. I have an absolutely amazing job at the local zoo that I couldn't have lucked out more with. With so many things I have going for me and with God by my side, there is no way this chronic illness I have can stand against me. Besides, there are people who are far worse off than I am, and for that I am grateful. Here's to one day being able to eat my favorite foods without fear and to having an answer.