Today is my 25th birthday, and while I am both excited and slightly scared at being a quarter century years old, I am embracing it as best as I can!
In my 25 years I have so far accomplished the following:
1) a bone marrow transplant (thanks mum!)
2) so far defeated a rare immune system disease called ADA SCID (apparently lethal if not treated)
3) devoured asthma
4) devleoped and destroyed bronchiectasis and subsequently
5) gotten a double lung transplant
I'm sorry, but who can say they've accomplished all that?
Yeah, you're jealous. Thought so.
Today the realization struck me: that this is my first birthday since I was 17 years old not being sick; not coughing, or battling some infection, or in some form of chronic pain. It is my first birthday since I was 17 where I didn't have to do nebs, or some form of stupid physio (PEP mask, beating).
Last year when I turned 24 I was 16 days post tx; I couldn't turn my torso, couldn't shower alone, I couldn't even open pill bottles. My biggest worry and fright was that I would fuck up my new meds. Remembering what to take, how much to take, what to take what with and what not to take with them, when to take certain ones, how many times a day to take them, was the most daunting task. I was convinced I would never master it and as a result, end up dying as a result of mental fuck ups.
But alas, I prevailed. I am now 1 year, 16 days post tx, and I can clearly and competently self-medicate. I can clearly open my pill bottles. I can turn my torso, shower, dress myself, lol. Today was different: I woke up at 8am, got ready, dressed, and beelined for Timmies, came home, self-medicated, and most importantly my favourite indulgence: played piano.
The weather is slightly cool but humid, and that makes for an interesting feel to The Old Victorian: seeing as it's 110 years old, it's a Woodland instrument and as a result, when it's humid, it sweats. It's not a gross feel, it just feels damp, and it also gives off an old woody smell that I love. So I sat with my tea and played. I played Fur Elise, Good Enough, Breathe No More, Tourniquet...and a ton of other songs. There's something about sitting down at the piano with all the windows open and just feeling free. It's cathartic - a stress reliever, and it's completely relaxing.
In non-related birthday move, I've officially stopped being a complete mental fuck when it comes to the transplant games and have sent out some emails in regards to fundraising and the like. There is another tx recipient in my city and so far, it looks like we will band together and scheme some ideas for Sweden. YAY!
Still waiting to hear back about mentorship from TGH....could be a while I guess. Oh well. I've contacted two people but havent heard back yet. Patience I guess.
In other news, dare I say it? Well, fall is approaching. Here in Ontario - and maybe even the northern half of North America, wishing/being excited for fall is kind've like living on the edge of fear, because you know that by doing so is somewhat like unleashing a beast: fall is exciting, it's a time for harvest, for snuggly clothes, Thanksgiving, fall-y smells, leaves, beautiful colours, rainy days, windy days....but there is a price that proceeds this: winter. By being excited for fall, you are basically being excited for doom because fall unleashes winter eventually. Fall cannot stay around forever, and winter is a bastard that can sometimes sneak in early and stay longer than is strictly necessary. For all I care, winter may as well fuck off and die and never rear its ugly frigid head, but alas it does. Winter my friends, is the Spawn of Fall. I love fall, but I am hesistant to welcome it sometimes.
Happy birthday to me!!!!!!!!!!