Growing up, I was an average kid. I played sports, I ran around in the park — always on the go. I couldn’t sit still. However, unlike most kids, my life was a bit different. I was born with cystic fibrosis. On the outside no one could tell, no one knew. And I liked to keep it that way.

I had to do nebulizer treatments and chest therapy, which consisted of my parents or my nurse cupping their hands and, in a rhythmic beat, clapping them on my chest and back to help break up the mucus so I could spit it out. Treatments and medications for CF back in the 90s weren’t as advanced as they are today.

I would have to perform these treatments multiple times a day, which was tough as a kid who just wanted to play with his friends. I’d often make up excuses and tell my friends lies to justify why I would have to leave every couple hours. It became a normal thing for me; I would do it to keep my CF secret.

But at least I wasn’t alone. I had an older sister who also had CF. She could relate to what I had to go through. Despite spending more time in the hospital for weeks at a time, I had a normal childhood — one that I am very grateful to have experienced.

Fast forward to when I turned 18 and a “routine” hospital visit turned into a life-changing event. My body began to shut down on me, and I was placed on a ventilator. The doctors were preparing my parents for the worst. The outlook was bleak.

I woke up a month later, not knowing what happened or where I was. I learned I received an emergency double-lung transplant — a second chance at life, some would say.

Recovery was tough. After being bed-ridden for so long, your muscles begin to atrophy. I was so weak, I couldn’t lift my own legs or arms while lying in bed. However, I was determined to get up and walk out of the hospital. So, with the help of some great occupational and physical therapists, I was able to do so — just in time to come home for Christmas.

Life after transplant was extremely difficult at first. I felt very… well, weird is the only way to describe it. I was not comfortable in my own skin and body. For me, it was extremely mentally hard to deal with. During my recovery from my transplant, my sister who at the time was 23 years old, lost her fight against cystic fibrosis.

Losing my sister gave me a new sense of survivor’s guilt — a mental torture that still haunts me to this day. I cope with it in my own ways, but not a day goes by that I don’t feel guilty for being alive. After years of struggling with depression that comes from the mental and physical challenges of living with cystic fibrosis, now in my 30s, I have learned something about people with CF.

We are stronger than anyone thinks. We are fighters. With the help of social media, I have found so many people who are open about living with cystic fibrosis and showing how they are kicking CF’s ass! Some are running marathons; some are athletes or entrepreneurs. All these people with CF, who struggle in their own ways, are overcoming it and doing amazing things in their lives.

I am now proud to say I have also done great things while living with CF. I have worked hard and became a business owner at age 25. I married the love of my life, and we are traveling the world together and not letting CF hold me back.

Now I am making room for a new venture in my life to do something I’m passionate about. I became a personal trainer. No matter what was going on in life, I have always found peace in one place — the gym. Growing up scrawny and weak from CF, I made it my goal in life to be as healthy and strong as possible.

As a personal trainer, I help people achieve their health and fitness goals every day — a rewarding experience I am happy to share with my clients. I also continue to push myself in the gym every day to become better and better. I believe exercise for people with CF is extremely important and everyone can benefit both physically and mentally. Despite all the setbacks that come with having CF, we are strong, we are fighters, and we are proud.  

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