A Blessed Weekend

   Well we are in the last day of National Donor Sabbath Weekend. I am also celebrating 7 years with my second lung transplant today. It was 7 years ago on a Friday morning when  my call came in. I had just returned from a trip to Shands in Gainesville and discussed my Advanced Directive, knowing I had minimal time left to live. The phone rang in the middle of the night.  You always get an ominous feeling when the phone rings at night. Something has happened, or a loved one is sick. 
     Somehow I knew this was my call. I was the one sick, but with Gods' blessing and Shands hospital this might change. I remember waking my parents who were visiting at the time and everyone seemed to launch into hyper-drive. Everyone that is, except me. I didn't have the energy, stamina or strength to try. As I watched my parents rush around to get ready for the 2.5 hour drive I began to have doubts. I knew my physical strength was gone, it'd been the longest 2 years of my life, and I wasn't sure I would make the surgery. I also didn't want to waste a precious lung on someone who might not make it, when the lung could go to someone with a better chance than me. As Mom came in to give me a hug (somehow she knew I was having doubts), I asked her if she thought I could make it. This was probably the first time but most definitely the last time my parents would see my resolve falter. I remember she looked at me with all the love in her eyes and said " You can make it through anything, you're strong".  Of course she'd say this, after all she's a mother. But , she was referring to my mental strength, while I was worried about my physical strength.
    I'd been through this before, but this time my endurance was nowhere near what it was in 1991. Chronic rejection is much worse than Pulmonary Hypertension could ever be. Chronic rejection  is tough to endure. It was the biggest test of life I have ever had to endure, and pray to never endure again. Though I know I will endure it at some point. I hope to make it as far in the future as humanly possible.
     While I was questioning myself, I remembered it was the start of National Donor Sabbath Weekend. Surely, this is a sign that this transplant was meant to be. With all my doubts I had to at least give it my best shot at success. So off to Gainesville we band of merry men started.
     The holding area was a beehive of activity. I was introduced to my surgeon Dr. Staples. Yes, this is his real name. I made the off the wall comment, " and you use staples right?" This was my way of releiving some tension. I then met his wife, so I now had Staples & Staples MD... Sounds kinda cool huh?  It was during the wait process I discovered he was concerned with doing my transplant because I had lost down to 90lbs.! Wow, and my scale said I was at 100 lbs. it had been difficult to keep weight on at this point, since I was using all my calories to breathe. I had long ago consciously made the choice between eating or breathing. breathing was mandatory- eating optional. Thankfully the decision was to go ahead with the transplant.
    So today, as they say 7 years later- the rest is history.

Remember : Be a Miracle in someone's life, Become an organ or tissue donor.