Originally posted on cysticfibrosisnewstoday.com
Make-A-Wish is an organization that offers gift experiences to very sick children younger than 19. If a child has a dream, like becoming a superhero, Make-A-Wish will make that dream come true.
I was lucky enough to be a Make-A-Wish kid, but I could never settle on a wish. My family (my mom especially) was always so giving; I never wanted for anything. Sure, we were always scraping two nickels together, but my needs were always met. Hence, the only wishes I could come up with were for other people.
Some of my requests: “Perhaps you can renovate my mom’s room.” “My grandma needs a bigger hospital bed.” “Can I bring everyone in my class to Disney World?”
I was all over the place. The Make-A-Wish consultant I was assigned was so kind, and she had the difficult task of tweaking my requests.
“The wish is supposed to be for you, honey! How about a special bedroom or trip for you?”
After years of contemplation, my consultant reminded me that my wish was due to expire. We had a long conversation about my needs as a soon-to-be high school graduate and, at the last second, I wished for something that all of us could enjoy: a huge, “Sweet 18” birthday party.
My consultant asked me to describe my dream party, including the food, venue, theme, and anything else I could think of. I told her that I wanted a local venue; that way my friends and family wouldn’t have to travel far. Naturally, I wanted some kind of theatrical aesthetic. I wanted a place where my guests could take pictures. I wanted a fast-food-style buffet with hot dogs, hamburgers, and chicken.
Most importantly, I wanted to give a discreet thank-you to the people at Make-A-Wish and the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation (CFF) for all of their hard work throughout my life. At the time, my disease was a secret to all but a few, so a large banner that said “Thank You, Make-A-Wish and CFF” was not ideal.
They granted every request and then some. They booked a local New Jersey venue called the Palace, and yes, it was as grand as you’re imagining. Drama masks, purple tables, 6-foot-tall feathers, and a purple carpet (instead of red, but functioning the same way) filled the space. The DJ had a playlist of all my favorite musicals, along with the top hits of 2011. The Make-A-Wish team even snuck a small drawer under my table so that I could easily access all of my night medication.
It was a chronically ill teenager’s dream. When I entered the Palace in my purple gown, my consultant asked, “What do you think?”
What did I think?! It took all of my self-control to keep from drooling. I gave her a huge hug and thanked her over and over again.
My 200 guests had the same jaw-dropping reaction that I did, and we spent the entire night dancing, playing games, taking pictures, and enjoying the backyard, barbecue-style buffet. The guests also went above and beyond with my request to wear a splash of purple, which was my secret nod to the foundations.
Aside from the obvious benefits of seeing my friends and family have big fun and celebrating my birthday, I was thankful that I finally felt like a teenager. That was the true desire that Make-A-Wish granted that night, a feeling of normalcy. I didn’t have to leave the party early to take my night pills or waste energy hiding my symptoms. My scars were strategically covered by my gown. Most importantly, I didn’t feel like I was 18 going on 80. I just felt 18.
I only recently discovered my favorite teen story, “Heathers,” a rock musical based on the 1989 film starring Winona Ryder. The moment I heard the song “Big Fun,” I flashed back to my Sweet 18 and smiled for hours. In the song, the lead character attends her first high-school party and has the time of her life. She drinks, gets high, dances, and feels beautiful. Granted, I wasn’t wasted at my Sweet 18, but I was high on life. That’s for sure.
There’s a set of lyrics from the song that makes me giggle:
“Dreams are coming true/ When people laugh but not at you!/ I’m not alone! I’m not afraid!/ I feel like Bono at Live Aid!/ The house is ours/ It’s time for big fun!/ Big fun!”
Words have never been truer! Perhaps one day a nonprofit will grant wishes to chronically ill adults over the age of 19. Would anyone like to attend my sweet 30th birthday party this winter and have some big fun?