A person would think that a 9 year old child going on a vacation to Orlando and Daytona Beach over Thanksgiving Break would be happy and excited. Someone would think that a kid finding out he is going to Disney World would be jumping up and down screaming and yelling with excitement. That's what any normal kid would be doing at least. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't a normal kid at that time.
When I was 9, my older brother was going to be play in a football tournament down in Florida. Everyone from his team was going to spend their Thanksgiving break down in Florida where it was nice and warm; not in chilly Cincinnati, Ohio. The plan was that a bunch of families would go down a few days before the tournament and go to Disney World then make the short drive over to Daytona Beach for the tournament. Everyone was excited, but me. You see, during this time, I had started developing some weird symptoms. I wasn't eating. I was so pale that I could have walked out as myself on Halloween without any make-up or a costume and passed as Casper. I wouldn't have been the friendly ghost though. I was so irritable that any little thing got me so mad that I would yell. I even developed a nickname from one of my brother's friends that came from a kid's tv show. Matt the Grouch. The only thing missing was that I didn't live in a garbage can on Sesame Street. Instead, I pretty much lived in a bed.
So how did I like Disney World for the first time? Well, I rode one ride there, Space Mountain. I walked on the ride unhappy and walked off unhappy. Partly because I hated roller coasters as a kid, but also because I was extremely sick. I just moped around the park while everyone else had a good time. They all wanted to go on Pirates of the Caribbean and I wanted to go to the hotel to a nice cozy bed. Pretty sad huh?
The whole trip was a disaster. I didn't have any fun. I didn't swim or go to the beach. All I did was sleep and be mean to everyone. To be honest, I can't recall a single moment during that trip that I was happy in. I look at pictures that were taken during that trip and it's stunning how bad I looked. I always tell my mom that I am surprised no one thought I was abused because of how thin and pale I was. It was that noticeable. That's how it all began. Things started changing for the worse there and they followed me back to Ohio.
My first signs and symptoms....
-Sleeping a large amount of time.
-Little to no appetite.
-Moodiness.
-Constant stomach pain.
-Change in complexion.
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