Well, my 2-year anniversary of having a dead person's kidney stuck into my body is upon me again. When I mentioned the upcoming date to my closest friends and family, they immediately started reminiscing about what they remembered most about the 11-day stretch I spent in the hospital trying to get well enough to come home. For me, the date bears acknowledgement, but most of what I remember I'd like to forget.
I suppose if I forgot everything, I'd be a different person. For example, if I didn't remember the sheer terror I felt as my surgeon placed the Picc Line before I went on to my transplant surgery and I got totally knocked out, I'd have nothing to run for, from, or towards. My new mantra while on the race course or on the treadmill is "I am not afraid".
If I didn't remember the anxiety attacks that crippled me in my daily life for many months after I returned home and my uncertainty that I would ever gain control again, I would not have the experience now to calm my mind and body when I am challenged mentally, physically, or emotionally. I have become stronger over the past 2 years than I have ever been before, and for this I am thankful and amazed.
These past 24 months have held failure and triumph, disappointment and worry, and most of all uncertainty...but above all of it is my ever-increasing ability to recognize that my limitations exist only if I give them life. A very brave and amazing person once shared a quote with me that spoke directly to my soul, and I have thought of it often over these years:
"When you find yourself at the end of the light are about to step off into the darkness
'faith' is knowing one of 2 things will happen.
you will either find something solid to stand on
or you will learn how to fly."