Personal Narrative: Kawasaki Disease

Life isn’t fair. It never is. Some people don’t get sick. Some people are sick at birth. Some people heal, others don’t. All people deserve a chance. The unfortunate thing is that not all people can get those chances. Opportunities rush past, but some people can’t grasp ahold of them. They sit, confined to crutches, wheelchairs, even hospitals. They sit and watch, as opportunities rush by. When I was born, the doctors noticed something strange. Something wasn’t quite right with one of my organs. They looked into it and found that the problem was a weaker variation of Kawasaki disease. Kawasaki disease is a heart disease where the cells in your heart don’t recognize friendly cells and attack them, creating an inflammation. It’s a rare disease, found mostly in Japanese patients like me. It is also known to weaken the heart, sometimes to the point of not being able to do physical activity. But in this case, the doctors healed it, dismissed it, and moved on. It happened again when I turned three, but again I was healed from it. The day I was taken back to the hospital for a third time for Kawasaki is still engraved in my mind. I was five years old, and I was pretty smart. I recognized the

Sometimes I would think, “Why should we thank the coaches, we’re the ones that did all the playing.” It was stupid stuff like that. But now, as time goes on, I’ve really thought about it, and realized I was wrong. Some coaches don’t get paid. They show up anyway fueled by pure motivation to teach some kids life lessons and how to play a game. I admire that. Which is why now, I’ll thank the coach after practices. I have a notebook upstairs in my room full of handwritten notes my coaches have taught me about baseball. I’ve gotten made fun of it before too. People ask why I thank the coach after every practice, no matter what happens. They think it’s weird or just an unnatural move. I just shrug the comments