Ten-Foot Tall and Bulletproof

Lacye and I dated for the rest of my senior year; however, my focus was not on my relationship with her, or anyone else, for that matter.  I was sure that my life was going to lead me down the path of professional soccer; and, I would do whatever it took to make that happen.
I had everything going for me.  I had tons of friends, a smoking-hot girlfriend, and a couple of private universities offering me scholarships to play soccer.  Unfortunately, I had a very bad temper, used my friends for my personal gain, and treated Lacye as a temporary trophy.  Little did I know, my temper would cause me great physical pain, my friends would disappear, and Lacye would save my life four times.
Near the end of my senior year, my parents and I decided (for several reasons) that leaving Texas for college wasn't possible.  So, I decided to stay at home, where I would study and play soccer at the local junior college.  I still kept in touch with the two university coaches, who were willing to give me a chance the following year.

My first year in college was a dream come true.  I easily started as a defender and played every minute of the first semester.  The school newspaper came out to do an article about the team, and I was on the cover.  There was even praise from our coach about my playing style.  My grades were pretty good, and I was surrounded by tons of new friends.  Lacye and I were still together; although, we had already broken up, once (almost twice), due to my selfishness.  I had it all!  I was ten-foot tall and bulletproof!
The second semester began, and something changed.  I started falling asleep a lot.  I love to sleep; but, I was falling asleep in church, at the movies, on the phone, and even at the wheel.  I started to throw up, three to five times per day.  My color changed from a beautiful brown sugar, into a pale yellow.  I lost 20 pounds; and I developed these big, grey bags under my eyes.
I concluded that my two jobs (Peppermint Park and Miller's Outpost), my full school schedule, soccer, and my social life were just pushing me too hard.  I decided to push back; so, I ate breakfast, every morning, packed a lunch for school, napped when I could, and worked even harder at soccer practice.  Nothing worked.  My meals were still coming back up, I was sleeping all of the time, and I was being called lazy at soccer practice.
Once again, my mother and I made an appointment with my kidney doctor, who had been following my stable kidney disease, since I was thirteen.  The doctor asked me to come in for blood work, and they would call with the results, in a few days.  He was going to look at several factors; one being my Creatinine level, which indicates how hard my kidneys are working.
When we returned home, there was a message, waiting on the answering machine.  The doctor stated that the lab made a mistake, by misplacing a decimal on the lab report.  He said that my Creatinine level read 12.0, instead of the original 1.2, when I was thirteen years old.  We agreed to follow the same routine the following morning, and again were met by the blinking answering machine.  This time, the doctor's report was worse.  My Creatinine level was now at 13.0, with 14.0 being the highest. He said that my kidneys had failed, which meant that my blood was full of poison, in the form of urine; and that I had two choices: start kidney dialysis or slip into a coma.  I obviously chose the dialysis, and started making plans to have an Arteriovenous Fistula built into my left forearm, which serves as an access for kidney dialysis.
I went home with the news, and made my rounds to Lacye, my friends, and my soccer team.  Lacye didn't know what to say, and went to her mother for advice.  I was sure she would run away (but you'll find out, later).  My friends and teammates didn't understand what was about to take place, and they trickled out of my life.  I spoke to my present coach and my potential coaches, and they said that I was a liability; and would not allow me to play on their teams.
I was devastated.  I spent so much time, thinking about myself, and neglecting the people around me, that I had nowhere to turn.  I felt like God was tapping me on the shoulder, saying, "Look at the mess you've made."  The one good outcome was that I found out who my closest friends were, because a handful of them stuck around, especially Lacye.  I was sick.  I was scared.  I was no longer Ten-Foot Tall and Bulletproof.