Hello!
My name is David Glover and I live in Stoke-on-Trent, England, and I've had CF for what will be 18 years this October. A close friend of mine died from CF two years ago, and shortly before that the dotors told me I hadn't long to live either, yet here I am!
I was born in El Salvador (Central America), and was the result of an unwanted pregnancy; I was put up for adoption. Having the disease from birth and being born into a 3rd World country meant that my chance of survival were slim, and so it was fortunate that adoption was quite popular in the UK at the time; I was saved! As soon as I arrived in the UK with my new family at the age of 6 weeks, I was taken straight to the North Staffs Hospital where I was officially diagnosed with CF. I was kept in for several months, and had many courses of IVs, etc. and at one point my mother told me I caught pneumonia! Anyway! To the point...
Cystic Fibrosis hardly ever seems to affect my life. Of couse, I have to clear the mucus from my airways, etc. at least once every day, take Creon tablets with food and obvious things like that, but besides that I have no problems whatsoever. I've chosen to take no nebulised antibiotics, no steroids or anything like that, nothing like Fortisip or Maxijul (however spelt), and rarely have a physio. I've lived my life this way for the past several months, and have had no problems.
The other night I had this dream in which my father told me I had 13 months to live, and later on in the dream I realised that at some point I'd had a heart and lung transplant. It was so real that I still felt scared when I awoke. I feel fine physically, but am slightly worried now that the dream might have been more than just a dream. Also, I wouldn't know whether to have a heart and lung transplant or not, because the friend I mentioned at the start of this post had one shortly before she passed away, and she didn't really enjoy her last few months.
I was wondering if anyone here would like to share their thoughts about "the big decision". I've heard that living with CF is like living with lungs filled with water, and when you receive a new set of them it's like you've been drained of all the water: it's amazing.
Sorry about the long post; feel free to ask any questions!
- David
My name is David Glover and I live in Stoke-on-Trent, England, and I've had CF for what will be 18 years this October. A close friend of mine died from CF two years ago, and shortly before that the dotors told me I hadn't long to live either, yet here I am!
I was born in El Salvador (Central America), and was the result of an unwanted pregnancy; I was put up for adoption. Having the disease from birth and being born into a 3rd World country meant that my chance of survival were slim, and so it was fortunate that adoption was quite popular in the UK at the time; I was saved! As soon as I arrived in the UK with my new family at the age of 6 weeks, I was taken straight to the North Staffs Hospital where I was officially diagnosed with CF. I was kept in for several months, and had many courses of IVs, etc. and at one point my mother told me I caught pneumonia! Anyway! To the point...
Cystic Fibrosis hardly ever seems to affect my life. Of couse, I have to clear the mucus from my airways, etc. at least once every day, take Creon tablets with food and obvious things like that, but besides that I have no problems whatsoever. I've chosen to take no nebulised antibiotics, no steroids or anything like that, nothing like Fortisip or Maxijul (however spelt), and rarely have a physio. I've lived my life this way for the past several months, and have had no problems.
The other night I had this dream in which my father told me I had 13 months to live, and later on in the dream I realised that at some point I'd had a heart and lung transplant. It was so real that I still felt scared when I awoke. I feel fine physically, but am slightly worried now that the dream might have been more than just a dream. Also, I wouldn't know whether to have a heart and lung transplant or not, because the friend I mentioned at the start of this post had one shortly before she passed away, and she didn't really enjoy her last few months.
I was wondering if anyone here would like to share their thoughts about "the big decision". I've heard that living with CF is like living with lungs filled with water, and when you receive a new set of them it's like you've been drained of all the water: it's amazing.
Sorry about the long post; feel free to ask any questions!
- David