TWO
Today, Saturday January 26, 2013 is Gasparilla day in Tampa. It’s an annual event of celebration for the city. It includes a pirate invasion, parade and celebration.
http://gasparillapiratefest.com/GPF_home.html
Rewind to Gasparilla two years ago. I’m in Tampa General Hospital’s ICU, very ill. I’ve been suffering from pulmonary fibrosis, a chronic degenerative disease for which there’s no cure. Tuesday of that week, I was taken off the transplant list because my doctors had doubts I would survive lung transplant surgery. I must have shown some renewed energy by Thursday, because I was put back on.
At 4:30 am, I’m awoken by my doctor. I’m only half awake and not really sure what he’s telling me. I only catch the suggestion I call my wife and tell her to get over here because the area is soon to be overrun with the day’s celebration. I call her, and relay the message.
I think he’s suggesting she get over here for a good vantage point of the festivities, which is what I convey to her. My wife has lived here all her life and even marched in the parade with her high school band. She wasn’t at all interested in getting anywhere near the Bayshore with the day’s festivities and crowds.
Finally, my doctor reiterated the part I missed… A donor had been found and he was signing the order for my transplant! She needed to get to the hospital before things got busy so she could see me before I went into surgery. That was really a cause to celebrate, even though I was so weak it was difficult for me to even get out of bed. In retrospect it was kind of funny; we talked a bit about it when I was in for my 2-year checkup.
I was finally released March 9 after a seven week hospital stay. I had gone through quite a bit to that point and now faced a lengthy rehab in order regain my life. It took time, but I eventually went back to work and resumed my normal activities.
Although this time is never far from my conscious thought, this day is a time to reflect and acknowledge those who believed in me. It is also an acknowledgement of my spiritual self which grew during this time.
My doctors gave me the benefit of the doubt and believed in me. I prayed every day, not for myself, but for them. I asked God to open doors for them, my nurses and therapists so they could support me in my quest to renewed life. It was a test of faith and I grew as a person from this experience.
I think of my donor, whose life ended prematurely. I know she was 36 years old. I not only think of her but of those she left behind. I have written to convey my gratitude with the hope that I might bring some comfort to them. I’ve not heard from them, but that door is always open should they wish to communicate.
I owe my life to the person who supported me the most during this time, my wife. I thank God for her. She is the best!
http://gasparillapiratefest.com/GPF_home.html
Rewind to Gasparilla two years ago. I’m in Tampa General Hospital’s ICU, very ill. I’ve been suffering from pulmonary fibrosis, a chronic degenerative disease for which there’s no cure. Tuesday of that week, I was taken off the transplant list because my doctors had doubts I would survive lung transplant surgery. I must have shown some renewed energy by Thursday, because I was put back on.
At 4:30 am, I’m awoken by my doctor. I’m only half awake and not really sure what he’s telling me. I only catch the suggestion I call my wife and tell her to get over here because the area is soon to be overrun with the day’s celebration. I call her, and relay the message.
I think he’s suggesting she get over here for a good vantage point of the festivities, which is what I convey to her. My wife has lived here all her life and even marched in the parade with her high school band. She wasn’t at all interested in getting anywhere near the Bayshore with the day’s festivities and crowds.
Finally, my doctor reiterated the part I missed… A donor had been found and he was signing the order for my transplant! She needed to get to the hospital before things got busy so she could see me before I went into surgery. That was really a cause to celebrate, even though I was so weak it was difficult for me to even get out of bed. In retrospect it was kind of funny; we talked a bit about it when I was in for my 2-year checkup.
I was finally released March 9 after a seven week hospital stay. I had gone through quite a bit to that point and now faced a lengthy rehab in order regain my life. It took time, but I eventually went back to work and resumed my normal activities.
Although this time is never far from my conscious thought, this day is a time to reflect and acknowledge those who believed in me. It is also an acknowledgement of my spiritual self which grew during this time.
My doctors gave me the benefit of the doubt and believed in me. I prayed every day, not for myself, but for them. I asked God to open doors for them, my nurses and therapists so they could support me in my quest to renewed life. It was a test of faith and I grew as a person from this experience.
I think of my donor, whose life ended prematurely. I know she was 36 years old. I not only think of her but of those she left behind. I have written to convey my gratitude with the hope that I might bring some comfort to them. I’ve not heard from them, but that door is always open should they wish to communicate.
I owe my life to the person who supported me the most during this time, my wife. I thank God for her. She is the best!
Replies