It was Monday the 26th of May. The day I had been waiting for was here.. Already! This was my fate and the day I would find out whether I was going to live or die. I needed that second chance at life. I needed new lungs.. Finally I was called into the doctors room, he took down my history from birth and then asked about my current situation.. without even trying not to - my eyes filled with tears and I couldn't help but pour my heart out to this doctor who I'd never met before, yet felt so comfortable in his presence.

"I can't walk far, I need help showering, I used to be a huge socialite and now this whole situation is affecting my friendships because I hardly can leave the house! It's  taking a toll on my family, I'm emotionally wrecked. I have no independence and I've been stripped of my adulthood life which should be just starting!" He had no problem hearing my cry for help.. And that is exactly what it was. Life was almost always a struggle. Walking had become a chore and I was almost relying on painkillers to get me through the day. I missed being able to laugh without coughing and going to the places I loved most. 

The doctor bought my family in, explained the pros and cons of bilateral lung transplant and told me that frankly, I could die whilst wattling for my new lungs. After our questions were answered he bought until the room one of the head transplant consultants. After a brief chat with her, it took her no longer then 5 minutes to come to tell my family and I what my fate held. Sweaty palms, heavy hearts, My parents, partner, uncle and I held our breath and crossed our fingers.

"Let's get you on the list as soon as possible.. Within the month."

My world was bright again. My future filled with hope and my shoulders lighter. Thank you didn't seem like enough and all our tears were heartfelt. And there it was... My shiny pink new lungs are in the making. ❤️

Uncertainty.. Something I'm struggling with. How can you ask for reassurance about something that isn't garaunteed? It's like asking for your death date. 

My St. Vincent's/Transplant team appointment approaches closer and closer and the closer it comes, the more scared I am. Is this what I want? Is this the right decision? On paper, yes. I'm looking right down the barrel of being an almost perfect candidate for bilateral lung transplant but that doesn't mean when I wake up, life's going to be roses and butterflies. It could though. 

As another hospital admission fast approaches, I'm not sure if it's right to wonder whether I should just let my body take it's own toll and go when originally planned, or whether I should take the gamble of a second chance and possibly live a long prosperous life... Or maybe struggle even harder? The thing is, I still have so much to do, so much to see, so many aspirations, goals...

I've never met anyone on the other side of transplant who regrets their decision, including the ones who currently and still struggle and fight. Even the ones who lost their life, always reminded me that it was the best decision they had made in their life. 

If I could have one wish, it would be to sit down and talk with God just so I could know his plan for me. Just because my decision is pretty much made, doesn't mean it's the right one. I just want to see the light at the end of the tunnel.