It's going to be 26*C today. I woke up at 8:40am and the sun was blazing into my room. I hauled ass out of bed and threw open my curtains to let the sunlight stream in. I slept with my window open and it smelled like spring time in my room and i loved it.
My first Easter weekend in 3 years without oxygen.
Todays attire: short shorts and a bikini top.
First up on the agenda was dismantling my bed and washing it. Since it's already warm out i washed it and hung it out to dry. I couldn't help but marvel at my speed as i did it. Last year at this time I was really starting to go downhill. I could barely get from A to B. The thought of washing my bedding (taking it off my bed was a chore in and of itself) and then hanging it outside was out of the question. I couldn't take it out of the washer, put it in the laundry basket and walk to the slider w/o gettting extremely otu of breath. I'd have to take a break when i got to the slider. Stop on the deck. Walk to the clothes line. Catch my breath. Hang some stuff. Catch my breath. Repeat cycle.
It killed me. Literally.
But today - at 99% lung function - i accomplished that and much more and not once was i out of breath. I dismantled my bedding, washed it, hung it on the line, made banana loaf, got dressed..all in under an hour. A year ago, this would have taken me the whole morning and would've left me exhausted.
The madness of it all...it's not quite something you can wrap your head around. This is my first easter holiday being an able bodied person. I'm not tethered to oxygen. I'm not freezing cold either (last easter was brutal!). I'm a whole different person and it's been an evolution that i'm proud of.
So i sit here, in my short shorts and my bikini top and i look down to the violet scar that laces its way around my chest and stops at my armpits. Beneath this line is the life that was given to me by a complete stranger almost 8 (8!) months ago. A stranger who this time last year was alive and well and had no plans or thoughts that they wouldn't be here much longer.
The madness of it all.
Beneath the violet scar that snakes around my chest I can only be filled with gratitude this Easter weekend.
Insert donor here.