Many people know me as a normal, ordinary 22-year-old who lives life like everyone else: enjoying school, hanging out with friends, going to Tigers games — but the truth behind the matter is that I’m not the ordinary girl everyone sees from the outside.

Growing up, I have had to deal with not an illness, but a disease. This disease has not stopped me from living my life to the absolute fullest, but it has always been there.

At birth, I was diagnosed with Hirschsrpung’s disease, a congenital condition that affects the large intestine, causing problems with the bowel due to poor muscle movement. As a result, I have gone through surgery after surgery to help create a better life for me.

As I grew older, my doctors discovered that I was more than just a Hirschsrpung patient. I started having issues with my stomach and the digestion of my food intake, which the doctors then diagnosed as a variance of Hirschsprung’s disease. This meant I had developed a form of short gut syndrome, a condition that occurs when part of the small intestine that prevents nutrients from being properly absorbed into the body is either missing or has been removed during surgery.

Due to the numerous surgeries I had before age six, I went from being a regular Hirschsprung’s patient to one who would soon have a lot more on her plate.

My stomach works a lot differently than most — and I mean a lot.

Since birth, up until the age of about 10, I was in and out of hospitals, having surgeries done in hopes that I would lead somewhat of a normal life. Thanks to the advancements of medical technology, I was able to spend more time at home than hooked up to an I.V. in a horrid hospital bed. When I was six years old, I had my very first pic-line put in, a catheter that was placed on the inside of my left bicep that allowed total parenteral nutrition (TPN) to be administered right from the comfort of my very own home.

Without TPN, I would still be sitting in a hospital bed hooked up to an I.V. for seven hours every day.

Yes, I still receive TPN to this day, seven hours a day, only now it’s through a small catheter located in my chest, called a Broviac. TPN provides me with all of my nutrients that I do not consume orally, giving me all of the vitamins, electrolytes and calories that I need in order for me to live a healthy life.

Without it, I don’t know what I would do. I do know I wouldn’t be here, enjoying Oakland University.

I have a lot of scars on my stomach. Do I have a “bikini body”? Absolutely not. I’m not someone who walks around wearing teeny tiny crop tops that barely cover my belly button, but it doesn’t bother me. Like a good friend of mine once said, “Scars show people that you’ve seen parts of the world that others haven’t.”

I can’t swim in the lakes and go tubing behind power boats in the summer, because I risk infection from the bacteria getting into my bloodstream; but again, I’m ok with that. I know I can’t wear and do everything everybody else does, but it’s what separates me from the crowd.

I know I have a disease that may cause people to look at me with a weird face, but it’s who I am. Having a medical problem growing up has helped shape me into the individual I am today. I have learned to take certain things with a grain of salt and not let anyone tell me I’m not good enough.

Today, I am a healthy and ambitious 22-year-old who thrives on living life to the absolute fullest, letting absolutely nothing hold me back.

Editor’s note: Alexis is a distributor for The Oakland Post. We think she has a unique perspective to share and we asked her to write this — she did not ask or approach us with it.