12 Months

What is the value of 12 months?
It equals one year of your life, right? How about when you hear you have 12 months to live? WOW a major shock runs through your brain and body. What? Time is so short? There isn't time left to do what I need to get done. TIME becomes a 4-letter word.
Knowing for about 12 years I would eventually hear those words did nothing to prepare me for when it actually happened. Much the same as if telling you about it would make it real for you. YOU have to live it to know it fully.
While living in Fort Lauderdale in the late 1980's, I drove to Hollywood, FL from Fort Lauderdale for a Dr. visit. It was here that I heard :
"We need to get you on a transplant list, you have about 12 moths left to live."
I was very brave and professional about it, did not cry or break down. No. Not me.
Even though every cell in my body wanted to scream. I was alone, my family living miles away in Jacksonville. I was the gypsy who traveled and lived her life like there was no tomorrow.
Now there wasn't.
Leaving the Dr's office, everything around me seemed surreal. Nothing mattered except my over-active emotions. My head was held high, until I got in my car.
I stayed relatively calm until I got on I-95 driving north to Fort Lauderdale. Realization hit,
the dam broke and feelings came rushing in. "Why me?" "Why couldn't You just let me die in my sleep and make it easy?" Subconsciously my mind was filled to capacity. Background thoughts of making arrangements (God, I'm only 28!), what will this do to mom & Dad?
I found that fine line between emotions and anger. I looked up to the sky and once again cried inside "Why me?" I was raised to NEVER question God, I may not like the answer.
From the corner of my left eye I saw a huge tractor trailer getting way too close to my car, crossing the white line. My vision was all blue, his cab was so close. It seemed inches away.
Instinctively I laid on the horn and searched for a way out. We were on an overpass and my only other option was the guard rail and over the side. In a flashing thought "Oh No! You listened and it'll end quickly but painfully!" The moment passed, the truck recovered and there was no accident.
I pulled over to the nearest break down lane I could get to and literally broke down.
I looked to the sky and calmly said " God, I'll NEVER question you again." Once again Mom was right. I didn't like the answer and I got my first of many attitude adjustments from God.
My emotion charged day was now calmer, thanks to an event that took me away from it for a brief moment.
Unlocking my apartment door, I threw my purse on the table and called the one person who I could talk to, my sister. I called her at work and gave her the news. We cried together, and she asked if I wanted her to tell my parents. No, this is my responsibility and it isn't something to tell them over the phone. I'll make arrangements to take time from work and drive up to Jacksonville and tell the family.
This was on a Friday. Two of my sisters Bev and Frances were at my apartment Saturday morning to be with me. The weight of the world was momentarily lifted when I saw family.
They made sure I had a wonderful weekend before driving to Jacksonville on Sunday afternoon to give my parents the news that would change all our lives forever.
I believe this is where the guilt feelings started because I felt like I was always hurting someone because I was sick and dying. I was causing such utter grief to others, not the person I wanted to be.