july clinic visit

I had a check up with my transplant team in Manhattan yesterday. I go about every three months now. Most people would find this exciting, but it’s also kind of nerve wracking. I like to be checked out a little more often. But it is nice too! Be careful what you wish for, I know!

What can I report to you? I’ve gained some weight. I know when they all say: YOU LOOK SO HEALTHY! That is code for: you gained a few pounds Natasha! It’s okay…everyone I crossed passed with also told me shoes were fantastic so it all evens out! ; )

My lungs are looking good. My sinuses have been giving me problems all year and I finally go in for sinus surgery next week, which is not something I am thrilled over. I know I’ll be in pain. I’ll be at MGH, a hospital where I am not followed at, and no one really “knows” me. But after the past month of unreal headaches I am looking forward to it a little bit! Hopefully it resolves the insane head pain and I won’t be counting a fifth sinus infection since they seem to be coming fast and furious now.

My lung function is stable. My kidneys are stable. All jump up and down good news! I don’t want any new organs anytime soon; I’m pretty content with the ones I have.  

I go in next Wednesday so I’ll be reporting back soon, hopefully nice and drugged up! I can't be held responsible for any communication later next week!

how and why

I’ve focused a lot of my latest blog posts in the past year on what I’ve been doing in life – mainly eating and traveling. It is easy to forget that I’m only able to do those things because I’ve had two double lung transplants. The mind has a way of hiding traumatic events deep inside—everyone has as least one. But several times a day I think of the fact that I am breathing through someone else’s lungs—a gift of life that two separate families gave to me during their hardest moment. There are a lot of emotions that make me think about this: sadness, happiness, pain, humility, fear, gratitude and so on. It’s always good to have a center to bring you back to the world and mine just happens to be that my lungs are not my own. It is a scary wonderful miracle of a thing that helps me to move forward when I am stuck. Or helps me to be thankful when I am not. I think there may be this perfection that when you beat something (read: ANYTHING) that from the point of survival on you are always joyful and happy and thankful. That is not so. I have hard days and easy days. I have bright and dark—same as anyone. The point is there is always something to bring you back to why you are here and why you are continuing to fight. I heard this really great quote a few weeks ago: if you have a “why” you can get through any “how”. And I believe that is the truth. Your how may not be waiting for a lung transplant, but we all have something. And hopefully we all have a why….