Fitness to Drive

We take driving for granted. Well most of us do.

I did, until I didn’t.

We pass the test when we are around 17 and we renew the licence and keep on going. Most of us complain about the photo and cant believe how the people that take them are like skilled to take bad photos.

Not me. I dont care if the photo is a frightening one. Just as long as I have a licence.

Each year, because of my heart and lungs, I need to renew my ability to drive by going to the Doctors and getting a NSW Fitness to Drive Medical Assessment.

The Dr goes through the form and ticks the boxes and I then get the yearly renewal lodged and pray that the next year will be the same

This year, its not

I have the form infront of me as I type this and I know that this year, its not getting renewed.

Im in heart failure waiting for new lungs and the “ability to drive box” wont be ticked

Im sad.

The form has tear puddles on it.

I dont care.

I haven’t driven since April last year and driving was independence for me. I actually enjoy driving and really liked my car too.

So, this Wednesday – a day before my 40th birthday, Im going to have my ability to drive taken away.

I’ve tried re-framing it and rewording it to feel less upset, but for now, Im going to let myself grieve this.

I look forward to the day I sit behind a steering wheel and drive somewhere because I want to.

I’ll have the music playing, the window opened and never take that experience for granted ever again.

So next time you’re in your car, remember, you GET to drive. Enjoy it.

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The shower chair

Today I used a shower chair

I had a shower and sat on a chair

Might sound like a fact that I’m noting

It’s actually a sentence filled with sadness

Not because of pride- because my body’s shutting down and I can’t do a damn thing about it.

In the past, Even with the worst case of the flu- I could shower. I could wash my hair, dry off and get dressed, even if it was back into my pjs.

My showers have reduced- today I pushed to shower because I could smell my unwashed body odour.

Showers make me nervous. I know how much energy I need to use and how many possible breathing episodes I’m going to have. Even undressing is hard.

I sat under the hot water, my body in aching pain. My hair tangled, knotty and straw like.

My legs and feet looking purple.

The strength in my legs to an all time low.

Shampooing my hair, took time. Energy and time.

Then the conditioner.

I asked my son to check on me in 5 minute intervals. That fizzled out eventually, my shower took an hour.

Once I showered, I sat in my towel for another hour. Watching Netflix and trying to distract myself from the cold breeze hitting my back because I couldn’t position the towel over it properly without having a breathing episode.

The smell of the towel was strong, my body is so sensitive to smell.

I’ve become afraid of the breathing attacks. The attacks come on with movement. I gasp and pant and my body scampers looking for oxygen desperately. While that’s happening, my mouth becomes dry, my hearing echos and my body begins tingling and then flushed with heat with the loss of oxygen. Vision blurs and my brain begins panicking because it knows how long these episodes use to take and how long they take now.

As I’m trapped in this state, I pray to distract myself from the fear.

Things have progressed. The body reminds me daily.

My eyes sting, I need more sleep, my chest is hot and I’m barely walking.

My hunger is non existent and I have no energy to do the things I once enjoyed to pass time with.

Diamond art- too much work

Reading- my eyes are sore

Knitting- my arms are sore

Pinterest- makes me realise how much energy I don’t have and then I’m sad

Back to watching tv and laying still.

So, here I am. It’s New Years. I’m grateful I’ve made it to now.

Still working on accepting the shower chair situation.

To all the spoonies, the people waiting on the transplant list, the chronically ill and the ones I forgot to mention… You’re not alone.

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3 Stars

On Monday, I finally got an urgent appointment to see the Transplant Doctor. I refused to get off the phone until something was organised for me before the unit closes for Christmas.

Dr Ice as I mentioned on my post “Im not Waiting” was making it impossible for me to come in despite my plea and my situation.

When I got in, I was seen in the corridor by one of the nurses that was caring for me throughout the year and she was surprised to see my colour. She commented that I looked grey.

For EIGHT weeks I have begged and explained my situation to the team. I’ve spoken to Dr Ice and explained that I’m feeling as though my body is deteriorating.

When I sat in the office, I was made to go over the situation again

Dr Ice then said

“You should have come in sooner, the door is always open for you & you are in a bad state”

You reckon! Was this guy effing kidding me?!

I didn’t know whether I should have gone off at him and reminded him of all the calls I’ve made

Instead, I remained calm and said – ‘I tried, you and the team have been busy’

I saw the wheels turning, he was registering the rejection he gave me for weeks and he then got into quick mode

A side note – Its important to remember as a patient, this is their job. Things get lost in the cracks and unless you advocate for YOURSELF and be in the loop with things – you could be making damage to yourself

So Dr Ice arranged an urgent CT scan of my chest and abdomen

Bloods were taken

After he saw the CT, he confirmed that lungs are in an extremely bad state and almost non existent. My lungs are like a decoration, just hanging there.

Which means, my heart is working its ass off

Which means, if I dont get this call soon…. the reality is, heart attack territory.

He reassured me he would call Tuesday with the blood results – he didn’t. I called a few times and left messages for him on Tuesday – no reply

Wednesday again – still no reply

Called my GP and he was able to access the results and inform me that I was extreemly deficent in Vitamin D, border line with Iron

Once again, another side note- follow things up and be your OWN nurse.

The hospital has given my file in the system 3 stars. 3 stars means URGENT.

I was told by the team that my lungs could be days away because the ones I have are packing up on me.

I have been dealing with heart failure and slowly declining since April this year.

8 months later…. I sit typing with dark circles and puffy eyes through exhaustion.

My chest is sore and so is my back from laborious breathing

My stomach is round and swollen from fluid.

My teeth are sore and so is my throat. Probably a side effect from one of the medications.

My brain is ticking away because I am meant to stay as well as I can until I get the call

I need to

eat low sodium foods

eat low potassium foods (one of my medications requires this)

low fodmap foods (my bowel is badly inflamed)

Foods low in Vitamin K and Vitamin A (for the Warfarin im on for my blood clot)

but somehow eat foods to boost the liver

reduce the risk of oxidative stress that comes with right heart failure

Increase my Vitamin D asap

Sleep – but I keep waking up

Walk – but Im so damn puffed out

Upper and lower body exercises (do I laugh now or later?)

Stay ontop of all my medications

Stay positive for when I get the call

Its passed midnight and my mind struggles to switch off

I’m scared

I’m hopeful

I’m alot of emotions all wrapped up in one

2020 has been an incredibly challenging year and I know I have so much more to go through. Pray for me.

Until next time

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I found my tribe

Being on the transplant list has taken its toll this week again

I’m so damn tired! Mentally and Physically

Christmas is around the corner – 16 days to be exact

I’m turning 40 next month

Planning a birthday party and realizing dressing up and staying awake is going to be a big deal hits you in the guts

Making plans for Christmas is making me nervous because I already feel like its too much

Too many people and too many conversations

Do I bring my pillow?

Digesting food has become a major issue lately, I’m missing meals and feeling sick after eating. I dread eating at the moment

I’m getting more aches and pains in my chest, back and legs

Fluid is a daily thing now – instead of every few days

Salt is a major problem and I have had some new pains in the right side – Liver related

I’m missing events because I don’t have energy to attend – I missed my sons graduation this week and that was a hard call to make

While my husband and son were at the graduation, I laid in bed convincing myself it was the right choice

After feeling desperate for answers laying in bed, I stayed up that night looking up support groups.

Lung Transplant groups.

I found some and requested to join

I desperately needed to speak to people who understood the sadness, the anxiousness, the fear, the despair

Find people who know what I’m talking about and are gasping for air sitting by the telephone also

I spoke with my cardiologist on Tuesday and updated him on my cough, my deterioration

He has no answers. He was listening and sorry to hear it, but had no answers

No organ available = No transplant

He suggested I join a support group

One step ahead Doc

He told me that it was time for me to talk to some people who were in my shoes

This morning I realised I had been accepted into a Lung and Heart Transplant group in Sydney that had alot of people from the same hospital that I’m with

I typed a message as a new member into the group hoping for the best

I had nothing to loose

This is what I wrote

Hello

I’m new to the group.

Ive got pulmonary hypertension and I’ve been in right heart failure since March this year.

Many hospital admission to St Vincent’s all year.

I’m on the waiting list for double lungs.

I have been on the list since September, I didn’t get on sooner because I was so scared.

My health has declined and I feel like I’m just existing but not living.

I don’t do much. I need more naps. A shower exhausts me.

I use to be so busy and despite being on oxygen I lived a really hectic life.

Now I’m in a body that is shutting down slowly and I’m tired and aching all the time.

Is anyone waiting for double lungs? Any tips on how to survive the waiting period?

My support group gave me all sorts of answers

Gratitude hit the spots that were filled with sadness on graduation night

I was written to by people that have had a transplant and living their best lives

I received messages from other people on the waiting list that feel the same way I do

One lady has been waiting since February

One man told me he had his 2 years ago

One girl I shared a hospital room with in June recognized me and said hi which was nice

I had advice on consuming milkshakes and smoothies as a form of eating while deteriorating

Low salt diet is a must as another told me

The need to stay active was highlighted by a few

One told me he was in a hospital bed for 2 months before his organs came

I was told declines are out of nowhere and rapid, so I realise that at the moment I have the signs for another dip in health

I was also informed about a zoom session thats taking place on Friday where people on the list or no longer on the list meet up and chat once a week

I found my people

I found my tribe

Its a reminder, no matter what you’re going through, there are others out there. You are not alone

Find your people

Until next time x

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A letter to G

When you’re dancing with life and death, reflection kicks in.

Most of this year, Ive been going through memories from my childhood, high school years, the friends I kept and the friends I lost, the family members that remain and the ones that passed. My achievements, the things I delayed doing, the opportunities I didn’t take and the ones I thought I had longer to action.

It’s a series of memories, regrets, realisations, lessons all swirling around inside me.

Even watching a movie can trigger more. sometimes the character in a movie can make you recall a memory and then it begins again.

I had a friend in high school- let’s call her G.

G was mature. She saw things differently. She had a vision of who she wanted to be and she went for it. G didn’t have an illness as a kid and wasn’t told she was lucky she didn’t die at 5, like I did, she had the courage and the support at home to be whoever she dreamt of being.

Months have passed and G has been constantly on my mind. I needed to tell G things. I needed to clear up whatever happened that could be the reason we no longer speak today. I needed to appolagise for being immature and not the friend she needed but that I need now.

I wrote G’s email several times. I mentally wrote it in the shower, as I laid in hospital, sometimes as I ate. Her email was rewritten so many times it began driving me insane.

How was I going to write to G? I didn’t even have her email or her number. Should I send a letter in the post to her childhood home? Do her parents still live there? I searched for G everywhere online. She is impossible to find. She doesn’t have social media- typical G, she was never a fan of social media. I found her workplace, but was she still working there?

I was too afraid to call the possible workplace, or her parents home number. What if G wasn’t dotting her I’s and crossing her t’s? What if she didn’t want to reconnect and told me to get lost? I didn’t even recall why we no longer speak.

Late one night I sat in-front of the computer and began typing.

I wrote my sorry. I wrote the things I felt she needed to hear from me. See, G doesn’t know I’m not the person I was before. G doesn’t know I now know things she knew so long ago. G also didn’t know I was genuinely sorry for judging her because she was thinking about things I couldn’t comprehend back then.

Funny how once the email was ready to send, I found G’s email address from 2011 in my sent history. We last communicated in 2011!!

At 1am, I hit send. Nervous, but relieved that I would no longer be writing G’s email most days. But now I had to wait instead.

In the email I added a brief update on my current life. 3 sentences. The majority of the email to her was explaining how I didn’t realise what I had and how I didn’t understand her. She spoke butterfly and I was speaking caterpillar.

The next morning I checked my email and G replied!!! I was so grateful I didn’t have to wait days for the reply.

I read the email twice. Then a third time. Then I had to leave the table where I was eating breakfast with my parents nearby and I sobbed.

I know I refer to lots of tears these days, but this email brang tears of joy, tears of gratefulness, tears of mixed feelings.

G wrote back. She filled me in briefly on her current life. She also told me that life got busy and we drifted. No ill feelings or bad memories on her end. Life simply got busy. G also told me that I didn’t need to appolagise and she wasnt holding onto anything. She was happy to hear from me.

I am able to have another thing sorted out before the operation. Maybe G and I will be friends again in my new chapter.

Now that I was able to write my sorry to G, I have an opposite letter to write to someone. Let’s call her M.

Until next time

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I’m not waiting!

I’ve been on the transplant list since the beginning of September this year.

In and out of hospital all year. Should have gone on the list alot sooner

It took alot of work with my psychologist to accept that I need a double lung transplant.

At first I was in denial. Then anger, Depression, then bargaining and now Acceptance. This whole process took months.

Just like the diagram below

The Stages of Grief – Some misconceptions about Kübler-Ross's work

I honestly thought that I was going to miraculously bounce out of bed one morning and a miracle would occur. I really did think I was going to be a rare case and the Dr was going to say “Oh, a miracle has happened and you are FINE!!

That hasnt happened.

Instead, my health is slowly declining

Tasks like showering, Pulling the sheets up on the bed, making a cup of tea, laying in bed – all difficult.

I walk 1,000 steps on a good day and 0-200 on a bad day (toilet breaks)

For months I’ve been waiting for the call from the transplant team

I know they told me that some people wait a few days and others months

I began living around the call

Phone always beside me incase the call comes through

Sitting around watching heaps of Netflix because “Whats the point of doing anything?”

I stopped speaking to friends incase I pass away – Its easier for them

I spoke of death and the transplant ALOT

I was scared to commit to plans, just incase

I was staying uncommited to almost everything, just incase

I was even getting organised for my departure.

Its December.

I am always tired. I have a cough now. I’m always tired and pale, I’m loosing memory at times, my tolerance level has decreased

The other day I called the hospital, after being sick and struggling for 5 weeks, I asked them if I could come in and speak to them and I explained the symptoms. I had tried to get better on my own with the feeling of suffocating, but every time I lay in bed (with a wedge to sit me up slightly) I cant breath and I feel squashed inside

My transplant Dr got frustrated with me. He told me the organs could be 2 years away and there was nothing he could do

I told him I cant wait 2 years. Why arent I a priority based on the situation?

Apparently I was a priority

He told me to go to my local hospital if I needed to. I told him the local hospital cant help me

He didn’t respond and then dragged out an ooookkkkkk

It hit me like a slap to the face. A really hard slap, the type that leaves you dizzy

They dont give a f*ck

This is a job for them

I’m a number in a system that goes on algorithms

Just like that.

Like being at the RSL club waiting for the buzzer to go off when your food order is ready

It doesnt matter if you’re hungry, you must wait

When you ask the kitchen if your foods ready – they tell you to wait with your buzzer

Thats me!

After sitting in bed for a few days and sleeping between the crying… I had realised I was sorta on my own, I had an “aha” moment

I got mad. I got into a F*ck them mindset

Im not waiting anymore!

I’m going to continue living and when I get the call, then I get the call

I’m NOT going to have a hospital bag packed

I’m NOT going to give up!

I’m not going to have my funeral planned

I’m also not going to write goodbye letters

SO, letting you know……I’m back

I have shit to do!

I still cant walk far and I still have the cough

But I feel different in my spirit

Just when I thought I had “let go” I realised I was still trying to control the outcomes

Thank you Dr ICE

You slapped me back into my life

Until next time!

Posted in Building a Stronger ME, double lung transplant | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Where’s home?

Today I went to my house. The house I lived in with my husband and son and cat before March 2020.

Its been a while since I have lived there full-time

While waiting for my double lung transplant I live at my parents in a large room with a bed, tv, desk, my computer and some belongings I bought across with me.

They have made it comfortable for me and they help me immensely – but its not home. Its my childhood home, but not my home.

Mum and Dad are able to take me to appointments and look after as I struggle health wise.

I go to the address on my licence most weekends.

Most people assume that I go home on the weekend to my actual house and I’m in heaven, they assume I love my own house, all the things I left behind, all the memories, my old life before I became unwell.

I thought I would miss the house

I thought I would miss my things

I’ve changed since I went into heart failure in March 2020 and had to process needing a double lung transplant

I’ve had to change, I have changed. You cant go through all that I’ve been through and stay the same.

I don’t need all the things in the house

The memories make me sad because I want to be “her” again, the version of myself I left there the day I was rushed to hospital. Actually I don’t want to be her ever again.

I just wan’t my energy back. I wan’t my independence back.

The house makes me feel anxious, its filled with things I left that I thought I needed, projects I didn’t finish because I thought I wanted to do them “some-day”, books piled that the new me doesn’t want to read. Cook books with recipes I thought I would make one day, photographs of me before all this happened…. and so much “stuff”

The stuff stares at me when I’m there, making me feel trapped and suffocated when I’m there. It makes me feel like I need to be her again and I don’t want to be

She was so busy pleasing people, she didn’t realise she was so unhappy

I look at items of furniture I never liked but purchased calling it compromise.

I look at the layout and the vibe, its not me. It doesn’t feel like MY home.

Maybe things will change after the transplant and I’ll feel different…. maybe they wont. Maybe they never will.

Today I sit here typing this post as a different version of myself.

I want less “stuff” and more “calmness”

I want minimal furniture, minimal plates and cups and pots and pans, minimal clothing. My body is screaming for simplicity.

“Simplicity!! Less is more!!”

Simplicity though isn’t just with “things”, its also with relationships, lifestyle, goals, freedom with your time, your commitments, your obligations. Less to do and think about. Less to clean and organise. Less maintenance and more time for things that I love.

While I wait for this transplant – I commit to simplifying my life.

I commit to being true to myself and not being someone I can’t and don’t want to be

Whatever does’t bring me peace, must go.

Until next time, make it a great day.

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Don’t Miss the Call

I officially went on the transplant list for double lungs on the 4th of September.

At first, I was anxious. I would go to bed each night and whisper in the dark – “Please don’t get the call tonight! I’m not ready.”

Fear of receiving the call for such a massive operation is overwhelming.

Some nights I would lay awake and think until early hours of the morning, or fall asleep crying, tears running into my hair as I lay on the pillow praying that I would miraculously repair my heart and lungs and not need to go through this anymore.

Its October. I know it hasn’t been long….. but the journey since March 2020 has felt like AGES! I have been unwell for the longest time and its taking a toll.

Some people get the call after a few days and some many, many months later

I often wonder, how will my story go?

Am I one of the ones that gets the call during the day with time to take a shower before I leave? Or will I be called early hours of the morning and told to hurry?

I have a different prayer now days, when I go to bed each night. I want the call. Please God, let my lungs be next.

But then I remember someone has to die for me to get them and I wish the person with the lungs I’m going to receive, more time. I send them love and hope that they are ok and making their life right before they pass.

I’ve been idle since March 2020. My ability to move has decreased and I get breathless easily. I’m reliant on assistance for so much.

I think I’m at the point where I just want to start another chapter, but cant.

I cant move forward with some major changes I want to make – because I need energy, I need to be able to breathe. I need my independence back.

Sadly though, I’m going to be even more reliant on people around me before I get my independence back. This alone has been a very difficult thing to digest, accept. Tears are streaming as I type this part of the post. I hate needing people. I really hate it.

Its not ego. Trust me – I’ve done lots of reflection on that. Its transactional love that I struggle with. Needing help comes with conditions in some relationships, even from people that claim to love you the deepest.

Being reminded regularly of sacrifices people are making around me and some even taking over and treating me as incapable.

Its my lungs and heart that need help – not my parenting or ability to think for myself.

Some people have used this time that I’ve been vulnerable as the perfect opportunity to discuss what they don’t like about me. Or what I could of done better.

Some friends have stopped calling and texting and think that’s what I need right now. Alone time.

Some have avoided me because they don’t want to deal with it, it stresses them out and they will see me when its all over.

Before my heart failure, before the health decline.. I didn’t really need a lot of help. I was always out and about, juggling work and life. My load wasn’t light either. But I managed to catch up with people, I did random acts of kindness. I was involved in causes and made each day count.

I wore many hats and played many roles.

Now days, I’m sitting in a body that cant do a whole lot.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t miss the part of my life where I was running around like a headless chicken. I didn’t listen to my body much, I kept punching on.

Some days, like today –

I miss being able to get into a car and drive wherever my heart desired. I miss being able to walk without oxygen and needing a wheel chair and someone to push me.

I miss deciding my dinners and where I was taking my son after school.

I miss meeting up with friends and having coffee or dinners.

I miss waking up and not feeling like Im ready for bed again.

The list goes on.

So, this post took a different turn to where I was headed when I started out. Let me get back to what I wanted to say originally.

While waiting on the transplant list, I’m always looking at my phone making sure I don’t miss the call.

Waiting for a transplant has so many mixed feelings attached to it.

Accepting that someone has to die for you to live.

Being shit scared of the operation, but knowing you need it

Making sure you’re in a position at all times to get to the hospital when the call comes through.

Possibly having my son with me at the time of the call, I need to make sure I have somewhere safe to leave him. Making sure someone is cuddling him. Knowing he is being loved while I cant be there. Someone to reassure him that its all going to be ok. Not project their fears onto him at his most fragile moment.

Then there is the question – Am I one of the lucky ones that get to come out alive? Will I be OK? Or is this my goodbye?

Once again the list goes on with all the things one needs to consider when on the list.

To anyone out there on the list. What ever the organ you are waiting for. I send you love, wherever you are.

I understand. I get it.

Sending you strength, courage, and patience

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Getting new lungs

I didn’t know where to start with this post.

I didn’t know how to get a heap of emotions, advice, information in one post.

It all began when….

I went to the supermarket one Sunday, pushed a trolley heaped with groceries as normal…but this time I began to black out, legs turned to jelly, loss of eye site momentarily. I experienced something I hadn’t before.

I managed to compose myself and slowly pushed the trolley to a seat.

I called my husband to come help asap and I sat on a shopping centre chair sobbing. I knew something bad was happening to my body. People were staring, some asked if I needed help, but I couldn’t stop sobbing.

For weeks I had a pain in my back and trouble breathing. I thought I had a chill and slept with heat packs and smeared muscle cream all over myself.

I couldn’t sleep laying flat and each day I lost more and more energy. I was loosing appetite and I was bitter. Tired and bitter.

Despite COVID and my attempt to avoid going to the hospital – I ended up in Emergency in April, after 3 days in bed and gasping for breath going to the toilet.

I discovered I was in right heart failure.

My lungs don’t work the best, even on full-time oxygen….and my heart is pumping away each day working its ass off.

Until it couldn’t successfully anymore.

I spent five weeks in hospital processing the news that I was dying and fast.

Heart failure, liver failing, lungs not working anymore.

Tranplant talk, urgent tests, new medications trialled. Side effects to deal with.

It was chaos.

The only language I spoke for weeks were tears. Lots and lots of tears.

I’m now on heart medication. A 24/7 IV drip that comes around with me in a bum bag/fanny pack. Veletri is the name.

I’ve been working away for months on getting so many tests done to qualify to be on a transplant list for double lungs. I never knew how many tests are involved.

Amongst the tests, Ive had so many days in bed unable to breathe or move fully, many hospital admissions and so many emotions and stages to work through.

I’m officially on the transplant waiting list.

So, any minute, a call could come through telling me that lungs with the same blood type and dimensions are waiting for me.

That someone died, but before they died – they left them for someone like me.

I always wonder – where will I be when that call comes?

In bed asleep? At a doctors appointment? Eating dinner?

I could write about the heart failure and how I haven’t been able to breathe properly since April. I could write about the way it feels to sit in a body that wont work and think “Oh My God! If this gets worse, Im screwed!”

I could write about how I didn’t see it coming even though I have been struggling since October 2019.

I could go more into detail about the medications and the Pulmonary Hypertension medication Im taking through a drip. The fluid tablets or the reflux medication.

I could write about the days where I cant keep my eyes open and lay in bed thinking, but unable to move.

I could write about the emotions and the hard work I have had to do to go from DEVASTATED about needing a transplant – to accepting and embracing the life that I could have with new lungs.

I could tell you all about the surgery I will under-go and how I will be on life support for approx 3 days. The details the surgeon told me in depth so I could sign a consent form.

I could tell you all about the fact that I may not survive.

I could write about the life changes that have taken place and the loss of independece Ive had over the last 6 months. How showering is now an exhausting and long process – I sit on my bed in a towel for half an hour waiting to breathe better before I attempt to get dressed.

I could even write about the hospital admissions, the people Ive met, the people that didn’t make it, the nurses who have touched my life and the Doctors that have delivered news that rattled me.

I could write about COVID and how being this ill during this time has been a challenge.

I could tell you about the fear that creeps up when Im alone at night with my own thoughts and how I pray and speak to Angels and whisper pleas for help in the dark.

I could tell you about the transplant success stories I read and how much respect I have for Donors.

I could go through the NETFLIX shows I’ve hidden with and escaped life with.

I could run through the books I wanted to read and havent.

I could tell you about the bucket list that changes each day

I could tell you about the people that support me emotionally and the ones that ran

I could tell you about the lump that forms in my throat when I think about my son and how many events I will miss of his, if I don’t make it.

I could even go into the funeral arrangements I have contemplated making.

Instead, Im going to tell you this….

Lifes short. Tomorrow is not guaranteed. Happiness is not a destination.

When we sit, unable to move or breathe – Memories are the only thing we hold onto and future plans are what help us push through the hard days.

Until next time. Be kind to yourself and others.

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Don’t say the C Word

Around the world right now – we all have 1 thing in common.

The C word. We are all dealing with the unknown of the COVID-19 (Coronavirus)

Some countries have lost many, maybe even someone they know.

Stockpiling and hysteria is all over the news.

Some countries are watching, like me, from Australia – as the virus spreads slowly through our country. It’s like watching a glass of water with drops of food dye spreading – slowly turning the entire glass with the colour. We know it’s coming closer, and don’t know if we will experience it personally.

Its scary, its unsettling, its not fair and its effed up!It’s every emotion.

I was glued to the news daily, watching the death tolls rise, watching on my phone as I sit on my oxygen knowing full well that if I got it, I would be fuc*d. My Dr told me I would.

People calling and messaging me daily checking in to make sure I’m staying inside. Urging me to take it more seriously as I shared the funny memes and kept going – business as usual.

Then, it hit me. Fear pushed hope out of the way and put its pedal to the metal. Fear was speeding through my mind, making my thoughts scattered and my body go into panic mode. The reality that this is not a joke and the death toll is higher than I’ve ever seen in my lifetime.

So, the nightmares kicked in – I don’t have many nightmares.. so when I do, I know its all getting too much. I was waking up with a dry mouth and heart pounding.

Each ache and pain had me questioning if the Corona was upon me.

Off went the news, off went the C talk and I reminded myself – when have I ever listened to the Dr when they told me I was going to die? I needed to stay strong. I needed fear to sit the eff down and stay calm.

I needed to get out of my Pajamas and make a new normal.

I needed to accept the uncertainty and embrace the present moment, I am here and I am ok.

This week has been an unsettling week, but also an important week for me. Its been a week of appreciation for the things I took for granted. Simple things like toilet paper, popping into a store for a coffee. Meeting up with friends or visiting Mum and Dad. Taking my son to school to be with his friends. Going to work and having a load of work to get through.

In New South Wales, we aren’t in lock down like some other parts of the world. I have decided to work from home and stay away from shopping centers, crowds and build my immune system, I have my son logging into school from home. Reducing risk where possible.

I don’t have words of wisdom over here, I don’t have the cure, I don’t even have a quote that’s going to finish this blog post off and leave you feeling inspired and blown away.

What I do have, is a reminder.

We are all in this together.

Maybe the world needed a reminder that we all bleed the same. No one is better than anybody else. Death is death. Illness is Illness.

Stay safe friends, not sure who will see this post, but who ever you are, reading this at this very moment – be safe and remember, you are NOT alone.

Until next time, Make it a great day xo

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