Part 6... the end of these parts!

This blog is going to be the blog that brings us up to date on where i am at now. There is gonna be a bit of writing and then some pictures to finish off at the end!
Thank you for all the likes and shares on Facebook and twitter.. i have had so many people say they have signed the donor register after just forgetting to do so and even some changing their minds completely and agreeing they would want to donate organs if possible.
This blog is my diary entry really, i'm very honest in what i write and i do that for myself mainly. It helps me get things off my mind and chest, it helps me remember things so i can look back on the memories but it's also now spreading awareness of Cystic Fibrosis and Organ donation and that's thanks to everyone who shares my posts or talks about this blog to family and friends.
The last post and also this post have touched on what could be classed as negative views or opinions as a comment or two that has been deleted have mentioned. I just want to clear up that like i said before, this is my diary and i want to be honest and open so when i talk about feeling down or anxious.. that was how i felt at the time and it was part of my transplant 'journey'.
I thought i was going crazy during those times and so when i came to writing these blogs after getting some messages from a few people awaiting to be assessed or on the list for transplant i felt it was best for me to give a full account of what happened to me. Although we won't go through the same things as everyone is different and has a different experience through transplant, if they happen to have these feelings, i hope they know, "i'm not a doctor".. but you are not going crazy.. these feelings are so very normal after all you've been through and it is okay, it does get better but make sure you talk to the right people who can offer support and anything extra if it's needed.
Thanks again for reading and sharing!
On with part 6....

The first thing i did when i got home was have myself a lovely hot bubble bath of course! It had been a very long time since i had been able to have a good soak as all they have on the ward is showers. So i ran my bath, soaked in it till i was wrinkly like a prune and then put fresh pyjamas on ready to get into my freshly made bed. Clean bedding on, new pyjamas on and very tired eyes.. on February 17th 2015 i slept like a baby in my own bed for the first time since November 13th 2014!
Whenever people asked what was first on my agenda in my new life; two of those things were the dentist and getting my beautiful new car which had been waiting for me to collect from the garage since the end of November!
As for the dentist, i was adamant i had a hole in my tooth so it was the first thing i planned to do! I'm glad to report that my pearly whites are just fine! Finally it was time to go pick my car up. I had chosen a cherry red Mini Cooper Paceman with black mirrors and roof. On arriving at mini, they had presented me with a special plaque on the wall and when i opened the door to my new car, the lovely people had given me my very own mini british bulldog teddybear to take home in the passenger seat! It was a gorgeous drive and i love my car very much so! I named my car Paul after one of the main ECMO guys on ICU!

I had kept it to myself, family and close friends about my transplant. I just wanted to get myself through it, keep my head down, work hard and get settled into home life and the new life i was gonna lead before informing everyone on social media. When i did log back into my Facebook accounts i had so many messages off the people who did know about it that i more than likely didn't get round to replying to everyone but thank you to everyone who did send messages of love and support, it was gratefully appreciated by me and my family.
After a week of being home and settled, i posted this post on my Facebook.

It wasn't too long after this that my best friend emily and my cousin paddy told me the best news!!
They were expecting a little baby but not only that, they wanted ME to be a godmother to the little jellybean. I was thrilled for them and super excited to be a godmum again.. now i was well enough and more able to do things, it means i can be a real good godmum and take them places and do things with them instead of them having to visit me in a boring hospital room!

A text off jellybean after his first scan

To celebrate the good news in our lives, me having new lungs and emily having a baby, we scheduled ourselves in at a spa to have the massage we had promised ourselves since our birthdays the previous year. When we arrived, we filled in the obligatory forms and then slipped into our robes and slippers. It was then that the therapy ladies popped our bubble by telling us with me only being a couple of months post surgery and emily being pregnant we couldn't have the full body massage we had been longing for nearly a whole year!! Instead we had to have a facial which was very relaxing and my face felt beautifuly soft afterwards but lets be honest.. it's not an hour and 15 minute long full body massage is it!! haha.
Next year em? :)

I had booked tickets to go for afternoon tea and watch a show at the local coliseum for my nan, auntie  and cousin for her christmas present so we went with nan in our hearts and had a great time! I think she would have loved the afternoon tea but the actual show may have been a little too crude for my nan's liking!!

the afternoon tea reservation

Weeks flew by and before i knew it, it was Easter.. time for a family trip to Blackers!!
Last year we went but stayed in a caravan and i had oxygen delivered, we took my wheelchair and i was pushed round with my oxygen on the whole trip. We all had a brilliant time but to go back this year, without oxygen deliveries, without wheelchairs and no NIV.. it felt incredible.
We stayed in a lovely hotel this time round and we shopped, we walked and we went on the pier but my personal favourite blackpool activity is BINGO!!
Walking along the beach front, it occurred to me that we were here just 7 months previous. I had portable liquid oxygen through nasal specs running at 2 -3 litres and had someone pushing me along in a wheelchair. Now just 2 months post transplant, my little legs were carrying me round and i hadn't walked this far in such a long time. I could breathe, i wasn't breathless at all and it just amazed me and the rest of my family. I felt incredibly lucky and i cherish that moment.
Our holiday trip was cut short as one member of the crew got poorly and we had to come home a day early but the whole trip was lovely and brilliant to be able to compare where i was before transplant and were i was just 2 months post.

I have mentioned before that i have a godson named Alfie and it was his birthday in April so me and my mum too him to Sealife as he loves Nemo or as alfie called him.. MEMO!!
So we went to pick Alfie up but was greeted at the door by Buzz Lightyear instead.
He was utterly mesmorised by the clownfish (nemo fish) and i have the cutest video on my phone of him with a cheesy grin on his face dressed as buzz lightyear glued to watching the 'memo' fish!
When we had gone through the sealife centre i bought him some little nemo fish to play with in the bath and a nemo teddy. We headed off for some lunch but not before popping into a disney shop to buy him a dory fish teddy to go with his 'memo' one. It was hometime so we piled all the toys into the car with him and took him back to his mum all finding nemo'd up!

One evening, i thought i would start writing my transplant story down and found myself making part 1 of these blogs. It was at the end when i had finished and posted that i was suddenly hit with an overwhelming wave of emotion and i cried and i cried and cried. This time i didn't feel better afterwards. I regretted writing the post and going back to re-visit what was the hardest time of my life so early on. I know now, that it was too soon to go back there and drag up thoughts that i had been forced to push to the back and get on with everything. Now i had took the time to reflect and in all honesty, i let it take over. The panic, the fear, the emotion. Everything tumbled on top of me and i went to bed feeling flustered. Waking up that morning i thought, today is a new day but this cloud was hovering over me. I tried to pretend it wasn't but it is so hard not to!
I constantly had a sickly nervous feeling that was there all the time from the moment i was awake till the time i went to sleep. It never went away, it came in erratic waves. One moment i would feel slightly nervous and the next it was full blown panic modes. I didn't know what the hell was going on or why it was going on so i mentioned it in clinic as they always ask how you are psychologically and mood wise. I told them everything and they told me to fill a form in on depression and anxiety.
I knew this wasn't depression. I was happy.. i just had this nervous feeling that held me back and that was causing me to feel down sometimes. So i completed the questionnaire and handed it back over. I asked why this was happening and the lovely nurse Lisa, told me nothing was happening. I had been through a major operation and i was 21 years old, i had a totally new life and although it was amazing  of course it was going to be bloody frightening too. She also mentioned that my meds can have a major affect on my mood.
I knew she was right with what she was saying but it didn't make these feelings go away or make me feel any better. I still felt like i was wasting time feeling too scared to leave the house or sit in the house on my own or go out in public places.
Nothing i seemed to do helped. If i stayed in, the feeling would flood me and i became so withdrawn because my mind would go overtime. If i went out, i would feel fine one minute and then it would creep up on me and i'd want to just leave and go home.
This went on for weeks and it was really bringing me down, i felt trapped but most of all i felt so guilty for having these feelings.
One evening i went out for tea with shaun and as we sat waiting for our food, i started getting the usual signs, the sickly tummy feelings, the heart racing and the could feel myself getting edgy and agitated as people walked past us. I stood up to go to the bathroom.. big mistake!
I locked myself in the room and sat down for a wee, my breathing was getting faster now and i was having palpitations and getting sweaty. It felt like the little toilet cubicle was closing in and i just felt what i assume is what it is like to be claustrophobic but yet i had never had that problem before. I finished what i was doing and got myself out of that bathroom pronto! It settled when i got back to the table with shaun but only slightly.
Minutes passed but they felt like hours and still our food hadn't arrived, i just wanted to leave and go home but i didn't want to just admit defeat and i didn't want to ruin a night out. So i persevered. BIGGER MISTAKE!
The feelings grew and grew and suddenly i thought i couldn't breathe!!!
I stood up and left, i just had to get outside.

I didn't know what had just happened but i hated this and it was the final straw.
I told the nurses the next day at clinic and pleaded that they helped me, i didn't want to carry on like that. I felt pathetic. She told me it sounded like i was having panic attacks and more than likely suffering from a form of anxiety.
I asked why hadn't i heard from anyone about that questionnaire i had completed last time and she said due to me not being 'high risk' i would have been put to the end of the list to see the psychologist. I told her this was ridiculous.  I understood that people who are high risk obviously should be priority to see the psychologist but it was terrible that that's what it had to take to be seen and helped. I didn't want tablets, i just wanted some ideas on how to help myself. I just felt like there would be people out there who would feel the same way i did or similar and they had done the same as me, completed a form and waited but heard nothing, so they waited longer and longer and eventually they may have become 'high risk' all because their needs weren't deemed important.
I completed another form and had to wait again and continue at home coping on my own.

So my coping technique was too keep busy. So from the moment i woke up, i was out the door and finding anything and everything to occupy my time till it was time to come home and get myself to bed. WORST IDEA!!
I wore myself out and when i became unwell, i kept going rather than slowing down. I'm not saying this caused what happened next but i certainly did myself no favours. I exhausted myself and due to being unwell, i ended up on IV's, a day into them and i felt 80% worse, i was now being sick and felt dreadful. The following night, i had been bringing up very watery, loose sputum and my chest sounded more chesty than it ever had, which was hard to believe. As the night went on, my breathing got worse and i checked my sats to find they were in the 70's! Panic hit as we knew i had no oxygen in the house after a quick debate on what was best, i asked my dad to call an ambulance and get me to hospital.
They came and checked everything and then popped me on oxygen, they agreed to take me to Wythenshawe so i could go onto the transplant ward there. That weekend we found out i had pneumonia and i was needing high levels of oxygen but the oxygen in my blood when they did arterial gases weren't improving, it was decided i was to go back onto ICU so i could have an arterial line in rather than them keep doing incredibly tricky and painful injections in my wrists and i could be placed on the C-Pap (non invasive ventilator) to help control my oxygen levels in my blood more thoroughly. It was petrifying. I won't lie.
It was scary how fast that came on and it was scary to feel back to how i used to be, unable to talk due to getting out of breath. I spent a week on ICU and slowly things were improving when they said i could go back onto the transplant ward.
After sessions with physio, i was allowed to go home a week after being moved off ICU, i went home on IV's just to keep myself well. I had my second biopsy before i left and it came back clear with no rejection!!

As a family we were once again hit with some tragic news.
My big cousin was able to give his organs to save people's lives. His amazing parents gave him the opportunity to honestly be someones hero and they helped to save the lives of others therefore, becoming hero's in there own rights. To have seen and gone through both sides to organ donation in the space of 5 months was unbelievable and heartbreaking.
To see how it gave hope to my auntie sharon in what must have felt like a hopeless situation, just gave me the warmest feeling. I can only hope i manage to do my donor proud, their family proud but also sam and my auntie sharon and sam's dad jim, proud.

my cousin Samantha, me and my cousin Sam

I started talking more to people about how i felt, rather than being ashamed or guilty of it, i knew i needed to tackle this head on or i wouldn't get any better.
I talked a lot to my aunties, to shaun, to anyone who would listen really. I came to realise that maybe lisa was right, this was a whole new life i had literally been picked up and thrown into, i had no plans, no goals and no idea what the hell i was doing!
I had to learn everything again and literally learn how to live like a normal person. (or as close to normal as i was gonna get) - whatever normal is?!
I have come to my own conclusion and i could be totally off the mark but i think i was getting these anxious feeling when out and about or sat at home because i was overthinking everything way too much. I was overthinking about what other people would be expecting of me way too much. I was also out in the wilderness. I was used to being ill, i was used to hospitals and i didn't have that anymore. I didn't know who i was because for years i had been a girl with CF, oxygen, NIV and hospital admissions all in tow.
Now i was a girl with shiny new lungs and a lot of people watching seeing what i would do with these new lungs and that was a lot of pressure but i was silly.
Nobody was putting pressure on me but myself.
Nobody was making me feel guilty for feeling this way but myself.
i had a long harsh word with myself and although i still get my down days and these nervous feelings from time to time.. it rarely stops me from doing things.
I actually want to do things now and most of the time i enjoy myself.
I just want to tell anyone that has these feelings post transplant that you aren't going crazy like i thought i was and you shouldn't make yourself feel any worse for feeling like that the way i did. These are your feelings and your thoughts and as cheesy as it may sound. That is perfectly okay that that's the way you're feeling. You are allowed to feel down, you are allowed to feel anxious and you're definitely allowed to cry.
So do it and then allow yourself to feel the good times too and if extra help is needed.. take it!
I managed to pull myself out of the slump without seeing the psychologist, without tablets and without running myself to the ground by not giving myself a break. I had accepted i was going to die at christmas before transplant so i thought it was time i accepted that actually i was going to die but just not yet.

i love this little picture

So here i am, 6 months post double lung transplant.

my 6 moth post Facebook status

I go to bingo regularly once a week with my mum, best friend and her mum and sisters.
I turned 22 and saw the musical i have wanted to see since i first got into musicals.. WICKED!
I have got back into my love of cooking and baking.
I have been getting more focused on moving out and renting a place with shaun.
We are planning a holiday!
I love this life that i live.

After the pneumonia, my lungs hadn't been as perfect as we had hoped and i have needed on and off IV's since. My lungs functions took a dip and my x-ray had some shadowing so broncs are a regular thing at the moment. I did have a phase were things were improving and i was close to getting back to my highest lung function results but then sods law.. i caught a cold and it has knocked me back again. So todays clinic goes as follows:

i am back on IV's for two weeks
i am having a bronchoscopy tomorrow
my lung functions had dropped slightly
my x-ray is no worse than last week
i am still pretty happy.
these things are what i expected, i'm immuno suppressed and colds tend to get on peoples chest regardless of having a lower than average immune system.
these little bumps in the road are so expectant in the first year or so of transplant and i am doing everything i can to prevent them and deal with them so as long as i continue to do so.. what else can i do?

So there we have it.. part 6 over and out!
I have a few more blogs jotted down in my notebook and i am still here so i guess this isn't the end of the transplant journey but the end of the journey so far, now that you're up to date!
Just gonna finish off with a few pictures of the last 6 months <3 p="">
Big Wheel on the pier

Buzz with Buzz ready for Sealife!

Some of my crazy family loving life in Blackpool!

A selection of baked goodies!

Captivated by all of the MEMO's

Alfie & 'MEMO'

A ride on the pier at Blackpool


Alfie with all his presents

Dirty Dancing the musical for my dads birthday

Bingo Nights once a week 

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Part 5

When I woke up after a couple of hours sleep, the transplant team who were all discussing what the plan of action would be surrounded me. A bronchoscopy was decided and no less than an hour, i was sedated with the camera down.
I came back round fully after another little sleep; they discovered that my lungs were full of sputum, which they had removed for me during the bronchoscopy. My sats were loads better, i had less pain and breathing was much easier again. It scared me though that morning. 
I had gone from having the best day so far on the Sunday to waking up feeling like i was fighting for the breaths again. 
Everyone reassured me that this was normal as it was still very early days for me. 

Over the next few days i was up and down, not health wise but mood wise. Literally, one extreme to the other and it mainly stuck to the low moods.
This wasn’t me; I’m not one of these people that see life through rose tinted glasses. I don’t think the world is the rainbow, lollipops and sunshine world we’d love it to be but I do take things with a pinch of salt, humor and try to see the best in worst situations or at the very least, head down and plough through till the worst is over. I just could not control myself.
I would wake up feeling absolutely distraught, the deepest sadness and would burst into tears without any reason needed.

Many patients go through a stage of guilt. We all know someone has passed away and we have ended up living as a result. We all know someone has lost a family member, a partner and a friend and our family members, partners and friends haven’t. I can understand completely why these feelings of guilt would consume someone who has had a transplant and although it was something I thought about a lot and still do as I think of my donor and their loved ones all the time but I think good thoughts for them and have always done.
I know that person has not died with the main purpose being for me to live. I know that their medical team would have done everything possible for them. I know that that person would have lost their life regardless of them donating their organs or not. Most importantly, I know someone’s wishes were granted and they wanted to give the gift of life to people in need. I can imagine through the darkest times, this gave them some comfort.
I knew this was not feelings of guilt.

I remember feeling so low one day on ICU, the snow was falling down outside and I was sat in my chair. I felt very desperately low; as soon as my dad walked through the doors of the ICU I burst into tears and could not stop.
It was hard, really hard and confusing for all involved. The nurses couldn’t give me a magic potion to stop the tears from falling or these feelings from being felt. My dad couldn’t see why I was so devastatingly emotional as I had waited so long for this to happen, I was over the first few hurdles and possibly the biggest hurdle so far and most importantly as EVERYONE was constantly telling me.
“I have my life back and I can do all the things I ever wished to do”
I also couldn’t see why I felt this way, I couldn’t control these feelings and I was now feeling guilt but not for the reasons you would assume but due to the fact I felt like people would mistake these feelings and emotions as me feeling sorry for myself or being selfish as they were right. It was what I had waited for, wished for and hoped for desperately especially in those last 2 months that had just gone by. They were wrong in one thing though; I didn’t get my life back. I had got given a life.

Leaving school at 16 and having transplant mentioned and thrown around but going to college regardless and then having to drop out in the first 2 months due to a dramatic deterioration in health and therefore, having to rely on wheelchair, NIV (ventilation), oxygen and constant hospital admission that would be weeks and months long.. I never had a life in the first place. Not one that was expected of a 16-22 year old. Then when I got more unwell, the main focus was taking each hour as it comes, let alone each day! Plans for the future where put on the backburner and eventually they faded into the background as everything in my head turned to keeping well, staying well and fighting infections. In December 2014, after the conversation with proff, I had accepted that I was more likely then ever going to die and that the likely hood of a transplant coming along was the slimmest it had been; plus the success rate of a transplant for me was now also at the minimum scale with how reliant I was on NIV and how wasted the little muscle I had now was.
I had gone from planning my own funeral at Christmas to being asked, “What are you going to do with your life?”
It was petrifying because I honestly didn’t know.
What was I going to do with my life?
My life was hospital admissions on Pearce ward. My friends were the nurses, pyhsio’s and other ward staff. I felt safest in hospital because that was what I was used to and it was true; I was safer there with how ill I was. That had been taken away from me and I was so grateful for that and still am now but at the time, it was just scary and I felt completely lost.

Over the next few days of up and down moods, some little milestones were being reached. I had my catheter out which made me immensely happy because it meant I could actually walk to the bathroom and pee & poop alone with a locked door!!!
Something I hadn’t been able to do in a very long time thanks to the massive V60 NIV that had to come everywhere with me in Pearce, the bathroom door was always open. Privacy was something I had almost forgotten existed.
I walked the furthest I had done with the physio and no oxygen or little old lady walking frame! My dad has called me little Flo for a couple of years now (Flo is my nana) he says I am like a little old lady and very much like my Nan so you can imagine his delight when he saw me with that walking frame but I’m certain he was more than happy for that to go! I also didn’t get out of breath once doing this and I can’t tell you how speechless that made me.
I was given my insulin pump back so I could get rid of the sliding scale and the cannula it was attached too!
I got rid of the hospital gown and changed into my own comfy pyjamas.
My oxygen saturations were staying at 96% and above on room air.
I can’t remember the last time they were in that level. It must be around 11-12 years old.

The biggest milestone so far was yet to come though..
I finally got moved onto the transplant ward, Jim Quick. After 2 weeks on ICU; this was a huge step and one that was closer to home!

My room was like a little granny flat, again; much to the delight for ‘little Flo’ references. My first night in that room was so peaceful with no alarms, bleeps, machines or people bustling around. I woke up the next morning feeling determined to not let those low feelings get the better of me. I had been given my phone back so I took regular morning selfies and sent them out via snapchat. Caught up on all the soaps I had missed that week and had breakfast all before half 8. That day I had another chest drain out and was left with just one to go.
I had started to learn and do my own meds as I wanted to be able to leave as soon as I was able to without needing to stay longer to learn all the new drugs and the new regime.

The weekend was bobbing along and my mood was still bouncing from high to low. I braved it and had my first shower post transplant, I was so scared to do so with having my new scar freshly present on my body. I’m happy to report to anyone out there who wants to know that I didn’t feel a bloody thing so don’t know what I was so worried about. It was lovely to get my hair washed properly, dry shampoo can only do the trick for so long.
I started remembering things from when I was heavily sedated with the breathing tube still in. Little snippets of conversations or interactions with people. I didn’t know if I had just made these things up or dreamt them but when I asked people, they were telling me these were in the earlier days and they had happened.

Monday was the day Ruth my physio wanted me to venture out on a walk on the main corridor, my first walk on the corridors since a previous admission. This was so exciting!! I couldn’t wait. I threw my trainers on, threw my foot support on (I’ll explain this a little later) and popped 2 litres of oxygen on through nasal specs as this was the furthest I will have walked and we were going off the ward.
The main goal was to reach the WH Smith shop, when we got there I wanted to go further. I had my own main goal, Ruth just didn’t know it yet. (hehehe!! that is a sneaky laugh)
So we walked a little more to the doors of the x-ray department, we turned round to head back to the ward when I stopped Ruth and BEGGED her to let me walk more and up the little hill to Pearce ward!
She was really reluctant but I promised her I felt brill and my sats were excellent on the 2 litres of oxygen. After a sit down on a bench, she allowed me to go the extra bit to say hello to whoever was working that day on Pearce ward. This would be the first time I would see my nurses and pyhsio’s who had looked after me since I came to this CF unit 5 years ago.
We got to the doors and I buzzed the buzzer.. continuously.
One of the sisters answered, “Stop It!” she said and then I popped my face to the camera and smiled.

Everyone came down to see me who was working and there was lots of a happy faces and even some tears of happiness. As a team, they all contributed to me making it this far, it would have been so easy for me to curl up and just give in but the whole team just keep you going, keep your spirits high and give you all the care and attention they could possibly give. They go above and beyond their care of duty and I can’t thank all of them enough or express how ridiculously amazing the whole team and facility really are.

I mentioned before about popping on a foot support; that is because when I woke up from the transplant, I was unable to lift my left foot up properly or wriggle my toes. This meant that when I was walking, my left foot just dragged along the floor a little, it would make me stumble sometimes so the physio picked up on it, had a little assessment and it was decided that I had something called ‘foot drop’
Foot drop is a muscular weakness or paralysis that makes it harder to lift the front part of your foot and your toes. They say it is quite common post transplant and they’re not really sure why that is but in most cases it gets better and even goes completely.
It’s taken 6 months but I no longer need the foot support and it is only ever so slightly lazy. It just takes a little more effort for my left foot than my right foot and my left foot is still completely numb. It doesn’t bother me and is a tiny price to pay for what I gained.

As a family, it was around this time that we had some awful news and it hit us all hard like a ton of bricks. I shed my tears and then a few more and decided I needed to get myself out of this hospital asap! I had to put the work in more than ever now to get out of here. I had one chest drain left, which I begged to get out because there was somewhere I needed to be in no less than a week. The consultant at the time told me even if the drain come out it was unlikely he would allow me to leave the hospital to attend, I thought this was incredibly insensitive so took an instant dislike to that person. The following day, I asked the other consultant and he promised me if the drain was out I could go and come back later that day and apologized on behalf of the other person.
So in that week, I did lots of physio, got myself on the exercise bike and even did the stairs just to show I was willing to do what was needed of me. The chest drain came out after my first biopsy on a Tuesday and when Thursday 12th of February 2015 came around, I was allowed to leave the hospital for the first time since November 13th 2014. It wasn’t the nicest reason to be leaving the hospital for the first time but as soon as I stepped outside, I took a massive deep breath and smiled. 

Fresh air flooded my new lungs and I took in that moment. How it felt to be able to do that. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face knowing my Nan would have loved seeing that.

The day went by in a bit of a blur in all honesty. The fog soon cleared when I came back to hospital to see 2 doctors rush in my room with a nurse before I had even took my coat off.
They topped a pretty poop day off with some more poop by telling me the biopsy results had come back with A2 rejection. This is a mild case of rejection that can be treated but it was the first time it had happened to me and it was an emotional day so of course, I cried!
After a frank conversation off my dad, I gave myself a shake and told myself I needed to snap out of this slump because it wasn’t making me feel any better, it isn’t what certain people would want from me and it’s definitely not what I want for myself. I know you can’t control your emotions or thoughts but I thought I would try not wallowing in them and instead, just push myself to push through the down moods as I knew they don’t last forever.

They started me on IV steroids to treat the rejection, I had a 3 day course and by the time the weekend was over I was given the best news yet..

“So what are you thinking about maybe going home tomorrow?”


I just wanted to end this blog with this little post I put on facebook last week. 
It has been all over the news that there has been a decrease in the number of people organ donating for the first time in over 10 years. There has been no increase in the number of people signing up and a lower percentage of potential donors donating. Many of you reading this know me and more than likely are already signed up and on the register but i can not stress enough how vital it is that you talk about it, I would consider it just as important as filling the form online or ticking the box on your license, if not more important. If you are already signed up to be an organ donor but at the time of your passing, when approached by a co-coordinator, your next of kin says no. The fact that you have signed up and want to donate your organs means nothing. They will not proceed with organ donation if your next of kin doesn't allow them to do so.
Your loved ones are more likely to agree to the decision of organ donation if they know how important it is to you now. The subject must be easier to approach now with yourselves than it is for a complete stranger at the worst time of your loved ones lives. 

If you desperately needed an organ, would you be willing to accept one? 
So would you be willing to therefore donate your organs once you've passed away? 
Have you got round to signing up yet?
It takes 2 minutes of your time on your lunch break or while the kettle boils making your brew.
Have you signed up but not really talked about it with your family or partner?
If you have but your family or partner says no, their decision overrides yours and the fact you have signed the register means nothing without the go ahead from those you leave behind. Please sign up but most importantly TALK. Let everyone know your wishes, you never know what is going to happen in life but you may be able to help desperately ill people have a life they can only imagine.
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