A 12-year-old girl with an extremely enormous tummy was sent to the emergency hospital. The physicians initially suspected stomach problems or maybe a tumor. However, following the ultrasound, a heavy quiet descended over the room. What they saw caused them to freeze. There was no regular pregnancy or tumor inside, just a dying flicker of life.
Her name was Kira. Quiet, skinny, and pale, she had large blue eyes and hands that were continually clutching her tummy. She was admitted to the hospital in the late evening. Her mother was crying and saying the same thing.
– I assumed it was just bloating. Gas… But she screamed in pain at night and curled up into a ball. And now she can’t even stand up.
When Kira was six years old, her father abandoned her. Her mother worked as a cleaner in a shopping center, doing everything she could to provide for her daughter. They lived in poverty, yet they loved one another. No one suspected the girl was in anguish behind her grin. She persevered. She did not want to anger her mother. She believed it will pass. She sipped water and starved to keep the situation from worsening.
When they put her on the bed, she couldn’t extend her legs because the skin on her stomach was stretched like an eardrum. The doctors were in a hurry: tests, IVs, and exams. An ultrasound revealed a significant amount of fluid in the abdominal cavity. Initially, doctors suspected internal hemorrhage. However, the blood was clean. The surgeon summoned an oncologist. The oncologist is a gastroenterologist. The gastroenterologist is an infectious disease specialist.
The diagnosis was unusual and frightening: intestinal lymphangiectasia. A illness in which lymphatic veins dilate and fluid builds up in the abdominal cavity. Pain, tiredness, and the risk of mortality can all be misdiagnosed as a “bad stomach” for years.
An older doctor with compassionate eyes and gray hair calmly told the mother:
– Your daughter is amazingly holding on. Her body has been fighting for several months. She requires an urgent puncture, therapy, and support. You must be present. She cannot cope without you.
Mom did not leave the room for a single minute. Kira awoke with a damp forehead, slowly opened her eyes, and whispered:
– Mommy. I do not want to di:e… I have not completed watching my favorite series yet…
The treatment was prolonged and painful. More than three liters of fluid were pumped from the abdominal cavity. Each movement was terrible. Each injection was like a test. But Kira didn’t weep. Once, when her mother handed her a teddy bear with a delicate bandage on her stomach, tears welled up in her eyes:
– Will he be sick with me?
After two weeks, everything improved. The physicians claimed they had never seen such infantile courage. The nurse, always severe and silent, brought her a warm blanket and whispered:
– You are like an angel. Just don’t leave, okay?
Kira’s story immediately circulated throughout the whole floor. Other children were told about Kira’s fighting style. You can do it, too.
She became a symbol of hope across the clinic.
But a few weeks later, a difficulty arose. On Sunday night, her temperature skyrocketed and her legs began to swell. The physicians ran between the machines—another puncture, more testing… Everyone was terrified of one thing: the body had given up.
And again, a miracle occurred. After three days of effort, tears, and fear, Kira opened her eyes and whispered, as she always did:
– Mommy, might I have some chocolate later?
Kira is now 14. She attends rehabilitation on a daily basis and wears a medallion on a necklace with a photograph of her mother within.
She aspires to be a doctor, exactly like the woman with kind eyes told her back then:
– You’re stronger than most adults. You deserve to live.
Her photograph hangs on the gastroenterology department’s walls. The caption below is straightforward but meaningful:
“Strength is not located in the body. “Strength is in the soul.”
Recovery was not simple. Mom lost her work; she got fired while continuously at her daughter’s bedside. However, she did not complain. She just touched Kira’s head and whispered:
– The basic goal is to survive. The rest will come.
They were released after about a month and a half. They moved into a room in the factory dormitory, where their aunt provided temporary shelter. The wallpaper was discolored, the TV was old, and the stove showed rusty signs of age. But Kira laughed. Because she lived. Because she breathed. Because she could see the morning again.
The sickness has not disappeared. It remained nearby, like a shadow, waiting to return. Her stomach swelled somewhat again, and cramps appeared. But Kira learned to survive. And, most significantly, she learnt to appreciate life.
The pupils in school did not understand. They whispered:
– She has a belly like a pregnant woman. – Ugh, she probably has worms.
Kira tried not to listen. Only one boy, Lesha, sat down next to her one day and said:
– Mom says you’re the strongest. That you don’t complain. I would cry every day.
And for the first time in a long time, Kira felt: she didn’t just want to survive. She wanted to live. Really.
– I will become a doctor. Like those who did not abandon me.
It’s been four years since then.
Kira enrolled in medical college. The entire yard collected money: whoever could gave 500 soms, and someone provided outdated textbooks. Mom obtained another job as a cleaner, this time in a clinic.
However, in the second year, a dreadful occurrence happened. A fire began in the dormitories. Everyone got out except Nastya, a first-year student. She was discovered unconscious, stuck between the fire and the wall.
Kira, despite her weakness, hurried in. She pulled her companion out and nearly suffocated herself. She then spent two weeks in the hospital with burns on her lungs.
Since then, they have become inseparable. Nastya became more than just a friend to Kira; she was a supporter. The person who would subsequently play an important part in her life.
Doctors absolutely prohibited Kira from engaging in physical activities. Her sleep became disturbed, and the agony returned. One night, she awoke with the familiar fear: her stomach felt as rigid as a drum. Like at the age of twelve. She realized that the sickness had returned.
However, she was no longer a child lost in the diagnoses. She read articles and understood what to do. Nastya accompanied her to the city, where the only specialist who knew her uncommon ailment worked.
When the doctor examined the photographs, he stated:
– You require urgent surgery. It’s serious. But you’re great – you arrived on time. You know how to listen to your body.
The operation was lengthy and difficult. A blood transfusion was necessary, and some of the damaged vessels were removed. Kira laid there for three weeks. Her mother came two days later, falling to her knees before the bed:
– I apologize… I assumed you were simply weary.
Kira simply smiled:
– I’m growing up. I’m coping.
Following the therapy, she took a temporary leave from college. But Nastya insisted.
– Don’t dare leave. You saved my life, and now it’s my turn to save you.
Nastya worked part-time in the evenings, delivering food and rewriting notes. Kira also launched a blog for teens with uncommon disorders. Without pathos. Honestly. Heart to heart.
Thousands of people began reading it. Alina, a nine-year-old kid with the same illness, wrote very frequently. Her mother cried in every message.
– May we come to you? We don’t have anywhere else to turn…
Kira agreed. Kira appeared to see a reflection of her past when tiny Alina entered the house, afraid, with a large belly and pain-filled eyes.
She took the girl to the doctor, read fairy stories in the evening, and stroked her hair. And one day Alina whispered:
Six years passed quickly.
Kira graduated from college, entered university, became a paramedic, and went on calls. But fate struck again – Lyosha died. The same boy who was the first to call her strong. He died in an accident. When Kira learned about this, she cried until dawn.
He was her first love. Unspoken. She kept his letters but never opened them. One night, she burned them. And in the morning, she went to work as if nothing had happened. Only inside – a storm raged.
Ten years after the first diagnosis, Kira stood at the operating table. Now not as a patient, but as a doctor. A real one. She had her own students, her own experience, her own stories. And one day, they brought her a girl. 11 years old. A huge belly. And that same diagnosis.
The mother was shaking with fear:
— Tell the truth… will she survive?
Kira gently covered her hand with her palm:
– I was like that too. And if I’m alive, your daughter will live.
Kira did not become famous. She did not go abroad. She did not get married. But her apartment always smelled of mint, books and hope. She wrote a book: “Inside the pain” . It is read in medical schools. Students quote it.
One day a woman came to her with a little girl.
– Are you Kira? I am Alina. The one you saved. And this is my daughter. I named her after you.
Kira cried for the first time in many years. But not from pain. From happiness.
