After enduring a frightening battle with my lawnmower, which it won, I decided it was time to see an allergist.
That appointment escalated to a chest x-ray, then an immediate consultation with a pulmonologist.
I just knew this had to be a lupus complication, because it always has been.
After another couple scans and rays, the venerate Dr. Curlee took me back to his office where we spent two hours looking at results, doing online research, and drawing pictures of what “it looks like” and what “it should look like”.
The mention of lung transplant made me think he had lost his marbles.
The insistence of wearing oxygen 24/7 made me drive home in tears.
I taught my high school English and debate classes with my O2 in tow for one semester.
It may have gotten me out of parking lot duty, but it didn’t get me through the day.
I have since had to “retire” from my beloved career at the age of 37, but now have hope to return to the classroom in some capacity at some point.
With one false alarm, My wait for two lungs lasted a little over six months. During this excruciating time, I rejoiced in my marriage to a man who has the patience and understanding of a saint, the great fortune of being joined with a soul lung-sister who has become my closest and dearest friend, and was comforted by the community support of my little town and school district.
This experience has become the greatest of hardships and confirmations. It has affirmed my faith that God does indeed have a hand here on earth, and that I am constantly surrounded by the priceless generosity and selfless capabilities of my dear family and friends.
The process from discovery to recovery took one year. I am still amazed by the blessed luck and skill involved in my transformation.
My new family who works at University Hospital is made up of an incredibly diverse and talented bunch of loving people who tirelessly lend their lives to us, their transplant patients, on a daily basis. There is no greater confidence than knowing your life-saving team is also a life-support system.
It is difficult to fully describe the feeling of carrying a “Gift” of Life, because it is the gift that is carrying me.
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