#BehcetsDiseaseWhen Stanford diagnosed me with Behçet’s at seven years old, I had absolutely no idea what I was being handed. I barely knew how to pronounce it—especially because everyone seemed to pronounce it differently. I certainly didn’t understand that this would become the most misunderstood disease of my life. Behçet’s isn’t just sores and embarrassment. Try losing your teeth, having pieces of your tongue fall away, losing more than 90% of the vision in one eye, dealing with blood clots, heart disease, neurological complications, brittle bones and days when walking becomes difficult. Then add the other diseases and conditions that seem to travel alongside it, and you’re left wondering how one body can possibly hold all of this. I’ve spent decades being tested, retested, doubted, relocated closer to hospitals that understand rare disease, and becoming an unwilling expert in my own body. Behçet’s doesn’t just mutate—it humiliates, consumes, and invites complications I never asked for. It’s a continual inexplicable battle.