Candid
I HAD A DOUBLE LUNG TRANSPLANT…
It is 4:20 am and I am unable to sleep. Mornings like these, when I have spent the night tossing, turning, and unable to rest, I begin to analyze my life thus far. I shift to social media looking at memories from this time last year. I stop to ponder a post by my life long friend, Larissa Compton. Viewing that time through the lens of her camera and her experience. Her photos consist of waiting rooms, the Cleveland Clinic campus, and things she was doing to pass the time while waiting for me to wake up. For some reason, they began to strike a chord. She has a photo of her wearing the shirt I designed for fund raisers. “Team Madi” with the sketch of my creative take on lungs printed on the front. The caption read, “#teammadi my amazing friend had a double lung transplant three days ago, and is awake today, doing well. #godisgood”. This was the photo that made me decide to give up on sleep and hop on here.
I HAD A DOUBLE LUNG TRANSPLANT…
Throughout the year this sentence has occasionally stopped me in my tracks. Funny, because it is said so frequently, almost overused, in my life. Many would think this sentence would bring joy! However, it doesn’t always. Do NOT misunderstand me, I am very thankful for my miracle and acknowledge that there are more than 114,000 Americans and 2,900 Ohioans waiting for a life saving transplant. I also understand that there are 20 people that die daily in the United States waiting for that call. I AM SO BLESSED! It truly was a miracle and I am forever grateful to my donor and their family for their sacrifice made in a time of true unimaginable pain. But, if I am honest, saying, hearing and thinking about the fact I had a double lung transplant brings me heartache, grief, sadness, stress, anxiety, anger, and frustration.
Allow me to be candid with you…
To start, the fact that I even NEEDED a transplant and the entire process that came with it, tends to begin the cluster of emotions. It usually starts with an ache in my heart and I feel that dreaded feeling of tears forming in my eyes. From there it moves to anger and frustration. I’ve never been much of a crier and I don’t like the vulnerability it brings, so it’s easier to get mad. However, that doesn’t always help because that ushers in grief of so much loss over three years that I suffered with PVOD and PAH. I continue to be frustrated because the questions begin. Why? What did I do to deserve this complicated and difficult life? Why did I have to get sick? Why couldn’t it have been something manageable or curable? These questions often circle me back to that heartache and sadness. All I ever wanted out of life was, a loving husband, a happy and healthy family, and a career that I enjoyed. Nothing extravagant. Usually around this point, I’ve conditioned myself to begin to hash it out with God. Questioning why he allowed me to go through so much and what his purpose for my pain is. (physical and emotionally) Wondering if the many tears I’ve cried are wasted. I also ask him why did my parents, brother, and children have to suffer and deal with unimaginable circumstances. While on the transplant list I came to terms with the extremely possible outcome that I would die in a matter of months without this surgery. However, it still pains me today to think of my family having to attempt to swallow that possibility as well. I circle back to anger. Anger with Him because I begin to feel abandoned, forgotten, and insignificant. Sometimes my thoughts and conversation with God will continue and I wrestle with Him some more. Other areas of grief come to mind as well as my anger about the many complications post op comes into play. But, usually at this point He reminds me that He was there, is there, and always will be there. The scripture speaking about how he never wastes a tear, that our suffering isn’t for nothing, brings me comfort. My mind begins to flood with all the countless times God was so clearly evident. Finally, I get a sense of relief. While my questions still unanswered I do “come to grips” with things and hope that something bigger is coming. Something that’ll make the pain and this whole thing worth it. I need only to be patient and obedient.
I HAD A DOUBLE LUNG TRANSPLANT…one day the end of that sentence will be completed and I look forward to see what God plans to finish.
