It’s hard to believe I am already six months post-transplant (again). It seems so long ago. It’s been almost a year since I started rejecting my old-new lungs. I look back on that time and it feels like a dream, which frankly frightens me a little. What if I forget how it felt to not breathe and I take these lungs for granted? When everything is great it is difficult to be appreciative for everything I have. Like they say, hindsight is 20/20. You only know what you have until it’s gone, and I don’t ever want to experience that terror I felt when I realized I might not have any more time left. I don’t want to get to the end and regret not doing something. It’s so cliche, but that doesn’t make it wrong.
A couple of days ago I was thinking about how much I want to travel. It always seems so out of reach. I work most days, and it is rare to have consecutive days off in a row. I get anxious about money and when I take days off, I worry that I won’t have enough to take care of my responsibilities. I don’t think this is unusual. Most people worry about the same things. I’ve always just accepted that I would travel when I was more secure and set in my life.
On Wednesday, I had a pretty good day. I was surrounded by great people, delicious food, and cheesy music. Those are pretty much my three criteria for good days. It was one of those days that made me so grateful for my life. I was spontaneous and relaxed and honestly did not worry about one thing. Okay, that’s a lie. I did worry about a wave nearly killing me at the beach but what can you do?
So I was pretty much high from great vibes. This high lasted through the morning, even while I was sitting in a doctor’s office. I’m in the room, just waiting for the Nurse Practitioner and browsing the internet. I somehow start looking at flights to Chicago and just think “fuck it” and book a flight for June.
This is pretty much going to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done. Well, like, in a non-life-or-death situation. Double-lung transplants are pretty crazy, I guess, to people who aren’t frequent fliers like me. Once you have the second, it’s just meh. “Oh, you had a double-lung transplant? That’s so last season.” That’s why Logan will never get on my level. She’s still hanging with the one-timers. Loser.
I’m very nervous because this is my first time traveling alone and pretty much adulting by myself. [When I originally wrote this I had “travelling” instead of “traveling”, which isn’t necessarily wrong, but when I looked up the difference of one l versus two, Grammarist said that the American way is with one and all other English speaking countries outside the U.S. use two. Moral of the story is that I read way too many books by British authors because my instinct was two.] But I didn’t almost die, TWICE, to just wait until a “better time” comes along. When will it be a better time to go to Chicago? Definitely not in the winter. I heard it sucks up there in January. [My jokes are so bad. I really wish I could stop, but I just can’t.] So, I’m going to Chicago in June and it is going to be my first adventure of many.
In other news, Logan graduates in a week and a half and I’m pretty much a mess about it. I cannot believe that my little nugget is going to be in COLLEGE. I just don’t understand where the time went. I swear she was just asking me to play Barbies with her. Of course I said no, because I was eleven and oh my god, eleven year olds are too old to play with Barbies, like why can’t you leave me alone so I can talk to my friends on AIM. She just did not understand how important networking was in 6th grade. [Okay, but seriously, middle school is the worst. I thought I was so grown but in reality my parents had to drive me everywhere and we would really only go the mall or movies. Like, where did I even get money for this social life? I have an income now and I don’t even have much of a social life. I just don’t understand how I would go to the mall and literally just walk around and get non-coffee drinks at Starbucks. Like, was that even fun? It seems like a lot of cardio. Now, I get cappuccinos with three shots of espresso and only feel a little cracked out and I try to go only to matinees to save money. Oh, how life changes.] Good news is, we will be moving in together in the fall, so if she asks me to play Barbies again I might say yes.
I feel like I usually end these on a very deep, philosophical note.
Not today. Today I’m ending it with this picture of Meghan and Logan being weirdos.
P.S. May is Cystic Fibrosis awareness month. So, like, be aware and stuff.
With Every Breath: My Life with Cystic Fibrosis 