There I am, the boy on the right, crying while my mom holds my little brother.
My mother treated me as if I were made of glass. She was always cautious and forever worried about me.
I was that child who caught every bug. The slightest change in weather or a minor cold would knock me down.
As I grew, so did the list of diagnoses, Ross River fever, Whooping cough, Glandular fever, Cytomegalovirus, Lyme disease…
You name it, I probably had it.
My doctors were baffled, unable to pinpoint the root cause of my poor health.
During my teenage years, this mysterious illness morphed into chronic fatigue and then irritable bowel syndrome piled on, just as I was going through high school and trying to set a foundation for my future.