One year ago I was fighting a losing battle against cystic fibrosis. I was strapped to sexy oxygen tubing 24 hours/day. I was hustling around in a wheelchair (and let's not forget the oh-so-popular Archie). I was dependent on a support person for help with practically everything outside of a bubble bath.
Today I'm busy back at work, chasing after my crazy dogs, prepping for the holidays and reflecting - a lot of reflecting.
Also, I'm busy still winning at cards and board games. Did you doubt that? I doubt it.
I'm just as in love with my transplant friends as I ever was. I miss them daily and think about them always. Some are flying high, while some have had unbelievable and unfair struggles.
I know too many who have fought too hard. It's time for them to be rewarded. Time for them to get a break and be healthy. Relax, breathe, live and not fight.
I'm so lucky. I know that. I feel amazing (although that Zumba party last night made me realize I am not quite as amazing as I thought - do you really know how much you have to shake it????)
I'm coming up on my one year. It's time to write to my donor. I feel ready.