In the fall of 2016 I was diagnosed with lupus. My diagnosis is not a secret to the world, but the story of triumph and the positive impact it had on my career certainly is. More often than not, when we hear a diagnosis story it is intended to shed light on the severe negative changes the disease has had on me. I want to be completely honest, this disease is traumatic, and I still have days where I cannot walk, cannot talk, and am consumed with immense pain beyond belief. That is the reality, but it is not the impact I choose to focus on. While my life has drastically changed in many ways, that is not the purpose of my story.

I watched the people around me whisper and softly shed tears of fear. I fell asleep in this cold hospital bed thinking, "I hope I wake up."

In the U.S., an estimated 1 million to 1.5 million people have lupus, and women account for about 90% of lupus cases. Younger women ages 15 to 44 are at highest risk of developing lupus. Before my diagnosis, I had no idea of the scope of this illness, but I was not alone in this. I had been experiencing excruciating joint pain and a variety of other symptoms for well over a year, to a certain extent, I had been experiencing these symptoms for my entire life. Much like my negative emotions, I learned to suppress the physical pain.
I am not a person who actively seeks out vulnerability, so showcasing even physical pain was out of the question. As the pain progressed, I allowed myself to spiral until one fateful day. I woke up and could not move my legs at all and lost all function in the left side of my face. My face was drooping to the left and my speech resembled that of a drunken sailor. It was truly an out of body experience. I had lived with chronic pain for as long as I could remember, but this was different. I was alone, fearful and could only imagine the worst. I can still remember the heaviness of having to try and lift my own legs using my arms thinking maybe they were "asleep." Behind my shoulder, on my hips and then again behind my knees were overwhelmed with a throbbing pain that was all consuming. It felt as though I was in a nightmare. The chronic pain I had been living with for year has seemed to explode overnight. I couldn't even catch my breath out of pure fear of the unknown. I was immediately rushed to the hospital to be poked and prodded for weeks. As anyone who is knowledgeable in autoimmune diseases, particularly lupus, it can take years to get a diagnosis. And even then, once diagnosed it can take years to find the appropriate treatment. It took me nine different physicians and three different hospitals before I received a clear diagnosis.I am actually one of the lucky ones who was diagnosed within one year. But looking back now with my medical team, I had been experiencing some of the symptoms for over 10 years with misdiagnosis. I'd love to say that's uncommon, but that's actually more frequent than an actual diagnosis. 
I lay in the hospital bed and watched myself wither away. I watched my hair fall out faster than I could catch it. I watched the people around me whisper and softly shed tears of fear. I fell asleep in this cold hospital bed thinking, "I hope I wake up." I wish I could say that I was being over dramatic for effect, but truly I was (and am) not. The other thought that overwhelmed me each night was, "What if I don't wake up?" And, ultimately, "What have I done?"
 I spent weeks going through rounds of testing. I had more blood drawn that you could ever imagine. It seem like every doctor would ask me the same questions and in return has the same puzzled look on their face. I multiple endoscopies, colonoscopies, scans, blood test, urine test, you name it: they tested it. To make matters worse, not a single test would have results return in what I would expect to be a timely manner. Imagine, your life is in the balance, and the response is, we'll get back to you in 24-48 hours. I remember thinking, will I get there? The most critical thing you must understand about Lupus is that there is not a singular test for diagnosis. It's a test what we can see what sticks. Finally, after what seems like a life time, we had the verdict. It was Lupus and my world change in ways I wasn't prepared for.
After getting diagnosed, I was forced into a state of vulnerability that provided me certain "mirror staring moments" where I could analyze my life. I learned to walk again. I learned to chew food again. I learned to speak again. I can never shake those experiences; it was humanizing and humiliating all at the same time. Imagine being 30 years old and needing your mother to help you bathe or use the bathroom or have your father carry you up and down flights of stairs. It isn't the reality check I was hoping for at 30, but it was the reality check I needed.

After getting diagnosed, I was forced into a state of vulnerability that provided me certain "mirror staring moments" where I could analyze my life.

As I began to get back to myself, I had sporadic thoughts of despair. I had secretly felt misunderstood my entire life and now I had been handed a disease that is even more misunderstood than I could have ever been. I'd always been a little different. A little louder, a little less traditional and never really quite fit in a box. While most young women my age (at the time) were thinking about marriage and settling down, I was dreaming up my next business plan and adventure. I was easily misunderstood from the outside looking in, very much like Lupus now that I think about it. But the diagnosis forced me to circle back to the question I had asked myself as I lay in the hospital bed. "If I don't wake up, what have I done?" I realized in that moment that I needed to take a hard look at myself and what I valued and find the place where my passion met my purpose..
I have always been someone who prioritized their career, but for me, this diagnosis showed that what I do with my career has to mean something. I cannot and will not assess my worth on standardized performance metrics. I needed to shout my values from the rooftops, not quietly align with the company that had the highest salary available for me. I couldn't just focus on the future alone, I had to focus on the present moment. What was my story in the moment? What impact can I make on this planet in the future?
This diagnosis left me in a state of vulnerability that pushed my career to an authentic height it would have never been able to otherwise. This diagnosis taught me I have to hold nothing back. I owe it to myself, my passion, and my purpose to be victorious in what sets my heart on fire. Conforming to the status quo is not in my path. In my career, being a driving force for change and making my mark on this world is not up for sale. I've spent the past five years creating a space of empowerment, one that utilizes my talents in a meaningful way. It is the foundation for every career advancement tool and program I write and the backbone to my book, BYOB Revolt.

I have always been someone who prioritized their career, but for me, this diagnosis showed that what I do with my career has to mean something.

While in hindsight this story shows strength and clarity, it wasn't an epiphany with instant change. It took work. Somehow I knew I would adapt to the physical changes and limitations lupus may cause, but I couldn't shake the emotional aspect of this harrowing experience. As I looked in the mirror, every day I could hear a voice that said, "Nothing is promised."
I am not the same person I was before I received my diagnosis, and I don't ever want to be. My pain still exists, though my routine has drastically changed and my lifestyle has most definitely been impacted. This isn't a toxic positivity spin on how my world is better; I'm realistic about my disease. But I would not trade it for the level of clarity I experienced in knowing the precious nature of every moment we are given. Every flare up is the reality check I need, just at the right time to evaluate my life and be sure that I'm doing everything I can to positively impact the world. I have not let lupus define me, but I have allowed it to remind me of what I need to leave this world withthat's the clarity to use your passion for the greater good.

WRITTEN BY

Jennifer Fitta