Emily M. DeArdo

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Sixteen

I have now had my new lungs for sixteen years. They are old enough to drive. :-P (Actually, my donor was a 50 year old woman named Suzanne. So these lungs are now 66 and still kicking!)

The 16th year was hard. We had COVID. We had my transfer to a new center, which….to be honest is still sort of irritating, because adult hospitals just really do not care about their patients’ time in the same way a children’s hospital does. Kinks are being worked out. The diabetes stuff was….rough, not gonna lie. But also, huge strides have been made which is great.

AND there was Patty!!!!!!

And getting to meet Patty!

Even in the midst of worldwide pandemic, there is still joy. There is joy everywhere. Not every day, maybe. I’ve had days that were definitely not joy filled. I’m not a perpetual ball of sunshine. I know that there are days, weeks, months, years, even, that are hard sledding.

But the key is to find the moments that are good (or, less bad).

There isn’t a whole lot of data for post-lung transplant folk like me. the data sets I’ve seen go to 10 years, and there aren’t enough patients to talk about 15 year, or 20 year, data. I’m making data.

I love turning the pages on the calendar. I love having birthdays. I love getting older because I wasn’t supposed to get older. But because of Suzanne, my donor, I did.

And I am grateful and incredibly happy about that.