I spent most of my teenage years in hospital which made secondary school tough. Some of my best friends knew I had CF. I was stubborn enough not to tell anyone. Maybe it was stupid. But then a 13 year old just wants to be normal and tough. Not the weak one with a disease. I will never forget lining up for a science class and there was lots of messing, when some poor lad came up and asked if I was okay. I said I was fine, even though I had just been 3 weeks in hospital. He followed up by saying there’s a rumour going around you are anorexic. Now I was 5 foot 5 inch and about 6 stone. So he was right technically. I had another guy that thought it would be funny to twist my arm around a lunch table. I still don’t know how it didn’t break. That’s the thing about having CF, or indeed any long term illness I’m sure…..you want to be strong. And I mightn’t have had physical strength, but I had(have) unreal mental strength. Good friends kept me going.

I loved playing football also but I could feel my weakness. I played up until 16 and then physically could not keep up. Strange thing was that I had some teachers that knew what was going on and it would piss me off as you could feel them treating you differently. I was not a person who liked being dealt with different. I wanted to live like a teenager, not like a CF patient. As the years went by my attitude towards CF got worse. I was a typical non-compliant patient. So let me share what a day in my life would be if I did everything right………………..I would be up at 6am to take a 15 minute neb Ventolin. This would loosen the mucus .After that I would be on a 15000 euro machine called the vest which would shake the shite from you, followed by an autogenic drainage breathing exercise. I would then take my antibiotic through the nebuliser. At this stage it would be about 8 and I had 15 minutes to drink a calorie filled shake. All I would usually have was lucozade and crisps. I never had an appetite, which they could never understand. When I got home I should have been doing intensive cardio, and a repeat of the morning routine. Here is what Dr O’Toole did. Wake up about 7, take some Ventolin, do some breathing exercises and fall back to sleep. No vest and antibiotics. If I was compliant I would have been in hospital less but as my motto goes, everything happens for a reason. I don’t condone a single thing about being non-compliant. My doctors and family couldn’t understand it. I mean I was non-compliant from 14 to 18. Hardest years of my life. Now I did repeat my leaving cert but luckily had Varley, Boyler and McTigue with me, as well as cunning bacon, and Walter Stevens. I was blessed by the greatest of friends really. Would I have received a transplant otherwise??? Maybe it’s my mother and brother but there was a reason why I was an ass of a teenager. I took my first drink at 16, after my junior cert 7 As 2 B’s and 1 c btw. Leaving was only 360 but got me into GMIT with two lads called Pat Sulli and Sean Osborne. My year there was mad. It was my first time living away from home. I spent approximately 8 hours throughout the whole year in a class room. Why?? Shy, nervous or didn’t want to go out due to being sick and underweight. CF was fucking with me subconsciously. 2 things stand out in my head while in hospital. When I was about 18 and very very sick, I remember sitting in Supermacs trying to force a cheese burger into me but couldn’t. You have to remember my Lung function was about 40% and weight about 43 kg. I went to Castlebar and Dr. O’ Neill, who loves his riddles said to me from pure frustration………… you are like a credit card, you go out there and max yourself out and you are back in here paying it back. He gave me the choice of Vincents or Beaumont hospital. I chose Beaumont with no real reason for it, but has been one of the best decisions. So I was on my way to an adult clinic where I would face horrible operations, meetings and the hardest of tests. I was seeing a girl at the time, and she calls me around this time to say she is lost somewhere on a bike. CF being what it is,I was very mean and practically hung up. Needless to say it did not work out!