How a health condition has led me to reorganize my life

At the end of 2023, I found myself forced to travel to the Dominican Republic for urgent medical care. The condition wasn’t serious enough to warrant an emergency department visit, nor was it mild enough to require a six-month wait for a medical appointment in the United States. I had to travel.

And it was the best thing I ever did.

During a three-week stay, the gastroenterologist informed me that the intestinal discomfort, intense fatigue, and stabbing stomach pain that plagued my days and nights were related to Irritable Bowel Syndrome. A relief to some extent, since I may have inherited other, more aggressive diseases from my ancestors.

The condition is indeed chronic, so much so that for the United States federal system, it could be reason enough to register you on the list of people with a disability or special needs. The pronounced changes in my weight, hair texture, mood, and concentration level already foreshadowed the challenges I would face.

Believe me, I was afraid I wouldn’t make it through this. Or rather, I asked for my death or rebirth. And in bed, after recovering from another terrible colic, I realized I wasn’t going to leave without a fight. So, I entered the ring.

For over seven months, I’ve been dedicated to understanding my body and how it reacts to the things I eat, the stress I manage, and the exercise I do, like someone who reinvents themselves one morning at a time. I chose to acknowledge what I’ve achieved in my 34 years of life by taking acts of self-love that I often expected to receive from others: buying myself flowers whenever I could, going out to eat even alone, and limiting interactions with people and content that didn’t nourish my recovery and peace of mind. I’m feeling very happy, I can say.

One of the most meaningful was the photoshoot I produced for my birthday. The styling and makeup were by Pepe Polanco , and the images were by Bright Media Films . Although simpler things like celebrating Aquarius season with colleagues, reuniting with an old friend, and participating in a live taping of the acclaimed radio show Wait, Wait…Don’t Tell Me have been equally meaningful.

Daring to continue living after having suffered so much in the cruel battle that ended my grandmother’s life seemed like a lot to ask of myself. I felt very tired at that moment. I still am. But I’m aware that Mama Fifina knew she was losing and still entered the ring. This has always made me reflect deeply on the agents of change and the purpose of life when you are born a warrior, a revolutionary: what does it matter whether you win or lose? What matters is challenging yourself.