I'm not quite certain whether to offer condolences for the living you have missed out on, being so sick, or celebrate another life saved from the cold water of the Styx. Not really, I am thrilled to hear about your new borrowed lungs. My only regret is the dearth of donors. I guess it bothers me to know that you have to become the sickest person who matches the donor lungs to get them. I'm sure you will use them well.
I'm thinking about mortality a lot these days. My neighbors are dealing with a crisis with a known outcome. Kevin is dying from pancreatic cancer, he's 60. His partner, Tina has been by his side since the diagnosis 4 months ago. Kevin is home and under hospice care.
What is doubly sad is at a point, the cancer was survivable. Kevin has been depressed for possibly a year and probably is the last person who would seek counseling. I'm sorry for borrowing your good news to drive a point, but attitude is so important. Right now Kevin wakes up every morning and grumbles about not being dead. Everybody who's congratulating you who's been there knows that you are special to survive and thrive. I'm reminded of Ken Burns documentary "The Roosevelts, an Intimate History". An historian was noting that FDR 'clung to the anticipation that someday his polio could be cured'. The tone of the historian was incredulous that such a pragmatic man could be delusional. There's nothing delusional about hope and a love for life.
Enjoy them lungs and remember your prize is hard won,