CFers are an incredible bunch, and Eric is no exception. Having a close view of his courage, strength, and determination has changed me for the better…and the not-so-easy times we’ve encountered have helped me grow as a person. I’ve become more thankful for the many positive things in my life, more content to enjoy simple pleasures like a night at home with my favorite person in the world. I’ve evolved into a creative problem-solver, having become a master organizer of medical supplies and sneaked cream cheese into Kraft Easy Mac to add much-needed calories. I stay cool in a crisis and am always prepared (just ask the EMTs and ER staff), thanks to some epic hemorrhages, a cancer diagnosis, and other emergencies.
Mostly, I’m stronger. As a spoonie myself, I never would have believed I could make through what we dealt with this past fall. I was getting 2-3 hours of sleep a night as I held on to my full-time job and made it to the hospital 5+ days a week to talk to the doctors and attend transplant caregiver classes. On top of that, I was fundraising for transplant expenses and doing my own medical research in my “free” time, all while the love of my life, my whole world, fought for his life and we anxiously waited to hear if he would be accepted as a transplant candidate.
And most importantly, I’ve become a believer. A believer in miracles, God, hope, love, and a small, small world. My new take on belief started the day after Eric was finally listed for a lung transplant after an emergency inpatient evaluation. It followed an episode of massive hemoptysis, two hospital transfers, a BAE, many days in the ICU, and a call from an ICU doctor saying that they would be forced to intubate Eric due to the massive strain his heart was under trying to compensate for his broken lungs—the call that left me sobbing hysterically at my desk before racing to the hospital while making impossibly difficult calls to our families.
I headed to the hospital that morning feeling relieved that Eric had finally been placed on the transplant waiting list. The relief didn’t last long: the hemoptysis, which had been held at bay for over a week, returned and grew more severe throughout the day. Not long after I arrived, Eric got a call from an out-of-state number on his cell phone, which he ignored. A few seconds later, I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize. It was a transplant coordinator, calling to inform us that a pair of donor lungs had been located and were a match for Eric, he was at the top of the list. We were in complete disbelief. Getting “THE CALL” less than 24 hours after joining the wait list? Certain this would turn out to be a “dry run”, we kept the news to ourselves and tried to enjoy the day together, keeping the news to ourselves but growing more and more worried as the hemoptysis got worse and the doctors told us nothing more could be done to stop the bleeding. I helped Eric wash his hair and we talked about the transplant education classes he’d missed as an inpatient.
As the day progressed, we continued to wait for updates on the status, expecting each call to end in disappointment. Eric, exhausted from coughing, fighting for oxygen, and the flurry of surgical preparations, thankfully fell asleep. That left me alone in the dark hospital room, worrying about the rising level of blood in his culture cup and awaiting more news from the transplant coordinator. We finally got the call around midnight—the lungs were a go! Less than 36 hours after being listed, Eric was in surgery, and not a moment too soon. When I spoke with his surgeon the next day (after 12 hours in surgery), he told me that Eric’s lungs were in horrible shape, with a number of blood vessels ready to burst.
Add to that all of the amazing things that I witnessed as Eric recovered post-transplant—breathing room air and walking as soon as he was weaned off sedation and walking nearly a mile just a couple of days after surgery. Then, a few weeks later, we were contacted by the donor’s family following a news story…and now the donor’s mother calls Eric her “bonus son.”
More and more, I think CFers get a few more miracles than the average person; maybe it’s so they can share their unique stories, inspire the people who know and love them and leave their incredible marks on the world.
“More and more, I think CFers get a few more miracles than the average person; maybe it’s so they can share their unique stories, inspire the people who know and love them and leave their incredible marks on the world.” – Marissa