6 months

It's almost unbelievable to think that I've been waiting a whole 6 months already for new blowers.

That's 1/2 a year. 

That's longer than most celebrity marriages and definitely longer than the length of time anyone keeps up with their New Years resolutions.

I have spent the last 6 months preparing for a surgery that will have me lying on a table with my body ripped open and my insides taken out, along with the recovery that I will cruise through (at least in the ideal world that exists in my head).

I have spent the last 6 months looking forward to that call that signals the beginning of a new life. A new life with 2 hawt, shiny (although they really aren't), pink organs, who've taken up prime real estate in my chest cavity, and whom spend their time happily sucking back oxygen and pumping out carbon dioxide.

It'd be quite the exchange, eh?

Did you ever, at any point in reading this blog, stop and think about what it's like to have craptastical lungs? Take a minute and pay attention to your breathing. See how smoothly and slowly you're breathing? (Unless you're being chased by a wild boar, of course.) See how easy it is? How you don't have to pay attention to it? How it's not a job for you?

You probably shouldn't take that for granted. Ever.

I've also spent the last 6 months thinking about what life will be like post-transplant. Sitting here, all limited and stuff, it doesn't seem possible that some day I'll be able to do all the things I haven't been able to do in such a long time, things I've watched others do and things I've been dreaming of doing.

I've often (daily would be about right) thought about how different life will be like for me, Brad, the boys...

I can't wait to push the limits of the new windbags, see what those suckers are capable of.

Plus, then I'll have TWO birthdays.

Cool.