The name’s Mattie, or MJ if you prefer. Mattie Jane Hamilton. I will also accept Insane-Writer-Chicky, Blondie, Weirdo, Queen Mattie, or Supreme Overlord of all that is Evil and/or Strange. Oh, or Cerulean-Moon if you are a NaNoWriMo’er. I am seventeen years old, and in all reality, I’m actually pretty average. I don’t really have any real skills other than fiction writing, and if I were to write a memoir right now, it would tie with Thoreau’s Walden for the most boring book ever. (Side-note: For those of you who hate me now because of my problems with Walden, I have my reasons. His ideals, while good in essence, are somewhat foolish, and his means of conveying them comes off as arrogance. I don’t like arrogant people…) Granted, I’m only a senior in high school (or, will be when the summer is over), so I guess I have plenty of time to make my life interesting and less than average, but knowing me, that probably won’t happen any time soon. My aversion to taking risks tends to hinder my ability to have any real fun. (Also keeps me out of trouble, you ne-sayers!)
But I am proud to say that not everything about me is average. People consider me a walking oxymoron. I am a pessimistic optimist. A dog-loving cat person. A conservative liberal. I suppose you get the point.
In November of 2010, I was diagnosed with end-stage renal failure. It interfered with my school work (still does), my writing, my social life. It threatened to destroy any hope I had of happiness, and yet for whatever reason, the illness slid off my shoulders. Most of the time my family was more worried than I was. My poor mother was strung-out a good 80% of the time. The other 20% she spent yelling at the doctors to “do things right” and “speed it up!” I lost friends because of my sickness, and I suppose that was unfortunate.
But in reality, because of my illness, I gained so much more than I lost. I found out that my family loves me far more than I could fathom. And a few friends stepped up above the rest and grew closer to me than I ever would have guessed.
In late June, I was placed on the transplant list to get a new kidney. July 4th, exactly eleven days later, I received a transplant. Eleven days. That’s amazing. I was told I would have an average of a four-month wait, but eleven days? It seemed too good to be true.
I am currently in six weeks of recovery, unable to go out in crowds, but I’ll be all set when school begins again in the fall. I’m finally happy, and I only got that way because of my renal-failure. Without that, I wouldn’t have the inspiration I do now, I wouldn’t have my wonderful boyfriend, and I wouldn’t have the closeness I have with my family.
So basically, all you really need to know about me is this: My name is Mattie Hamilton, and I am a very happy novelist. Who writes poetry on the side.