If I had known earlier that at age 28 I would need a lung transplant . . .
I might have appreciated all those summer hikes and winter ski trips that my parents "dragged" me on in the Colorado Rockies throughout my childhood, instead of whining about sore feet or cold fingers;
I might have played a little harder, or laughed a little louder at the really silly, ridiculous, little things like that time that my friends and I dressed up as "fashion models" and took homemade glamour shots in my bedroom with my tiny little pink camera (and I might even have saved some of the pictures);
I might have been surprised to know that one of my fondest memories now, living life in the biggest city in the country, is of lying outside in tiny little Oxford, GA (after driving at 3am to get there), looking up at a total universe of stars, watching a meteor shower with two of my best friends, and wondering how it was even possible for there to be that much light and that much enjoyment even in the middle of the night;
I might not have fought so much with my sister over nothing, because that was a total. waste. of. breath. (in every sense of the word);
I might have sung along even louder at all of those Indigo Girls and Dave Matthews Band and U2 and Elton John with Billy Joel and Bob Dylan and Ben Harper concerts that I went to throughout college (and yes, even one embarrassing but very fun Backstreet Boys show);
I would have really, really savored that road trip from Berkeley to Denver, even the stop off in Vegas and the stay at (where else?) New York, New York Casino;
I totally wouldn't have changed a single thing about that trip to Greece after the NY Bar Exam, especially not that strawberry moonshine we drank on that final night in Athens, or the restaurant with the view of the Parthenon at sunset, or the donkey ride through the streets of Santorini, or even that stupid mountain I was "forced" to climb on Delos to get to that bunch of scattered rocks (whoops, I mean, "awesome ruins");
I would have fallen on my knees in gratitude for the greater plan when I met Sammy back in 2008, because who could handle waiting for lungs without a live-in best friend to keep you company?;
I would have rocked every pastel-colored bridesmaid dress I've ever been asked to wear (you know, more than I already did totally rock them, of course);
I would definitely have used that "Welcome to Graceland" keychain with the ridiculous picture of my sister and me with the fake Elvis on it (I'll give you two guesses as to which of us was sporting a full-on crop top -- hint: Erin has better taste than I do!) and I would have laughed every time I got in my car or opened my apartment door;
I might have realized earlier just how amazingly connected we all are, and I might have had the foresight to treat every stranger I met like someone who might save my life someday with an indescribable gift;
I would like to say that I would have cherished these lungs for all they've been worth to me for the past 28 years, but I know that I was too busy living to truly count each breath, so instead I'll just take a second now to say to these "old" twins: thank you, for all that you are and all that you helped me do. I forgive you for any tantrums you might ever have had, which were, after all, a part of me too;
I might not have changed much, but I sure would have noticed it all a whole lot more.
And now that I know, I can at least take the time to just that. Hopefully for a long, long time to come.
- I am a 33-year-old wife, sister, daughter, friend, law school graduate, CFer, lifelong student of public service, blog writer, patient, Sagittarius, reader, Top chef fan, double-lung transplant recipient (twice!), and dog owner living in Colorado's beautiful Mile High City. I love all things colorful, funny, inspiring, or needlessly sarcastic. I share my city with about 2,500,000 other remarkable people, share my disease with 70,000 other beautiful souls, share my life with some unbelievable family and friends, and share my apartment with one very handsome guy and one really fat mutt with a kick-butt personality. We make it work.
About This Blog:
This blog is about me, my life, my sometimes craziness, my disease, and my current journey as a double-lung transplant recipient. It's also a celebration of everyone out there with CF (and other chronic illnesses). It's for you, inspired by you, and dedicated to you -- the community that keeps me writing, living, and breathing.
Want to Contact Me?
Please email me suggestions, thoughts, comments, or criticism. Seriously, I love hearing from you guys!
Send all emails to:
- ► 2013 (30)
- ► 2012 (36)
- ► 2011 (42)
- ► 2010 (117)
- Not Your Average (Post) Thanksgiving Challenge
- Live. Love. Create.
- They Say It's Your Birthday
- And Every Breath We Drew Was Hallelujah
- Love Among the Lotus Flowers
- Musings on a Birthday Week
- Ode to Prednisone: A Late-Night Performance
- We're Number 1!
- Life Lessons
- Dear Random Guy
- Peripheral Vision
- Another Day
- Keep on Keepin' on Like a Bird That Flew . . .
- Piggish Post
- Fighting CF Never Looked So Cool
- ▼ November (17)
Alternative Medicine Anniversary Antibiotics Anxiety Artwork Attitude Awards/Opportunities Awareness Bacteria Birthday Bronch Career CF Clinic CF Community CF Story CFF Challenge Choices Clot CysticLife Death Diabetes Doctors Donor Bob Drugs Dry Run Education Evaluation Exercise Family Fevers Freematour Frequencer Fun Fundraising Goals Gratitude Great Strides Guest Blog H1N1 Healthcare Heart Hospital ICU Immuno-suppression IVs Lessons Life Listed Loss Marathon Meditation New Year New York Organ Donation Oxygen PFTs Poetry Polymyxin Port Positive Thinking Post-Transplant Prednisone questions rant Recovery Rejection Research Rock CF Sampson Scar Sick Girl Speaks Sickness Side Effects Solvay Cares Stream of Consciousness SVT t-shirts Team Boomer THE Call Therapy Transplant Transplant Clinic Treatments Vertex Waiting Weight Writing