It's not Linear, but such is life.

I have only just started writing my book. My first chapter... was not my first chapter. I actually started writing on Chapter 4 - The Call. Why? Because I have no flipping clue how to even begin the opening of my book, so I decided to start where I know and where I would be confident with writing as it's all there. I realized when I sad down at the computer to write was that how I wanted to open up my book wasn't what I remembered it to be. What I though I remember where I wanted to start the opening of my book, which was the moment that transplant was brought up by my doctor wasn't correct in any way with the exception of the actual exam room that it was in.... well fuck. What now? How can I write about something wrong, something that didn't actual happy the way I remember it? So I found myself stumped.

In my writing group when of the first things I remember being discussed was that writing a book may not be written in the way that you expect it to be. So, starting at the very beginning may not actually be the way it will happen, as is the case for me. So, I have decided to keep with them of writing not being linear and start getting in to the blog post in the same way. We are going to discuss The Call, meaning the moment I got the call for new lungs and the path thereafter. I also wonder, if I start with my blog post writing before starting on the chapter writing if it will help me to develop how I want to articulate everything? Who knows!??!

I was minding my own business the night I got the call which was the evening of September 14th around 7:30pm. I was in our bedroom getting ready for my physio therapy, feeling like shit, lungs feeling like they were on fire. I was standing at the foot of the bed, getting changed into some comfy clothes when my cell phone rang. It was an unknown number, and I think any millennial can understand that we do not answer the call from an unknown number because, well stranger danger. Even though this is the millennial fear instilled in us I proceeded to answer it anyway as I was listed so that call could come at any time. The kicker of it is that we had a land line phone that no one, no family or friends had the number to. Only the hospital had it as we wanted to know when the call was the call. And yet, when I answered I was greeted on the other end by a very friendly sounding man who stated that he was from the Trillium Gift of Health and that he was pleased to let me know that they had a potential set of lungs for me and that I needed to get to Toronto within the next couples of ours.

Well my voice gets higher and higher pitched according to my husband during this time and I remember him coming around the corner with his eyebrow raised in curiosity while at the same time reminding me of The Rock. As we make eye contact I mouth to him 'it's the call,' while he mouths back 'no shit, I figured.' Well from there everything happen so fast. I felt like it was appropriate to back my phone charger and three bras only, as if I was going to be wearing bras directly out of surgery... and nothing else was packed apart from those items. Made sense at the time I guess. I decided to buff a nice spot on the floor in between our foyer and living rooms a I spun around incircles trying to figure out where to go, what to do and what to pack and what to say. I call the parents after many attempts to get a hold of my dad as he was coaching my sisters hockey game, my step mom had literally just got the hair dye put in her hair and my mom had to drive from London to Toronto, so she had a bit more of a drive on her end. I decided to give her the first call.

What I learned was that everyone thought that this was some type of joke because as I also thought, there was no way that this call was happening already as it had only been 12 days on the transplant list. It was like a dazed dream in a way. I just felt like this wasn't real and they anxiety that enveloped me was the most unnatural feeling, I don't know how to describe it. The fear of the surgery itself I think is what had my the most scared. I mean, you're getting cut in half, side to side and opened up like a car hood. What doesn't sound scary about that? Then on top of that itself my actual fucking lungs are being taken out of my body and replaced with someone else who had JUST died! It's a wild idea transplant. Honestly, who that, that was even I good idea to do transplants in the first place? Sociopaths?

I say goodbye to that cat, Toulouse who doesn't give a single fuck about me and wishes me dead anyway and we set off to Toronto. Call family and loved ones in the process almost at random. Highschool music teacher, grandparents, first cousins and best friends oh my.

I remember everything about that drive. It was a blur of emotions and took less than an hour to get there. Everyone I spoke to had the same response. Shock and and excitement being the top two. All gave words of encouragement, even my bitch ass grandma. And of course I had to post about it on Facebook.

We get to the hospital and get registered. During this time I realize I did not bring the paperwork with me basically stating that Taylor was to make any decisions for me should I be in a place where I could not make any decisions for myself. I did this for two reasons, 1) he is a smart man and 2) I knew that he wouldn't keep me in a vegetative state holding on to false hope. Not decisions that you think you are going to make at the young age of 24 but hey, life's crazy isn't it? I get myself checked in. The lady was the kindest person I could have met. You're used to be people working desks at hospital to be tired and grumpy but she seemed genuinely excited for me and told us where to go. I wish I could have gone back and said thank you because I do believe that starting off that night with someone who was just so pleasant and optimistic really was what I needed at that moment. Blood work is taken as well as chest x-rays. It's also in that moment that I remember that I am at the end of my period and just as I remember that fact it was forgotten so god bless the person that had to deal with that...

Hey, so remember when I said that maybe writing this blog will help me come up with ideas of how to word things for me book? I was write. I am writing here and then popping over to my book writing. Am I smart or what?

Anyways, the parents all start to arrive. My mom, her partner at the time and her best friend Annie. When I say THANK FUCK, I mean it, THANK THAT ABSOLUTE FUCK that she came. Not only for my mom but that comedian was what everyone needed and I am so happy she was there for those moments, my mom and my boyfriend.

With a whirlwind of a drive then it was the longest wait of my freaking life. We got to the hospital around 9pm, or a little earlier. The adrenaline had started to fade away. I few things happened here and there. I had to take my first dose of antirejection meds which smelt like skunk or bad Cambridge weed. Take your pick. If you know, you know. Then wait some more. After a bit more waiting people started to fall asleep. The parents and partners stayed in a waiting room because we all couldn't fit in one space so it was just Taylor and me in a couples of uncomfortable chairs. He fell asleep for a little bit and I contemplated in a few times but was to anxious in case something happened. Sure enough, when I contemplated having a nap around 4am I heard a very squeaky wheel of a cart or bed coming down the hall way. My ears perked up and I was on the edge of my seat, trying to wake up Taylor. I just had a feeling that this was it. Sure enough, in comes the bed along with my parents and everyone looking teary eyed. I start sobbing. I can feel how big my eyes are sitting in my head and I am just shaking like a chihuahua. I start hugging everyone. Taylor is now in tears. He held it as long as he could and being tired I am sure didn't help matters. I go to take a step towards the bed and just run in to him. embracing him in the biggest hug that I could give. I didn't want to let go. If finally get on to the bed, looking around at everyone crying and smiling. Taylor isn't looking my way and it hurts but I understand now that it may be just to hard to do for him. I tell my step mom to please watch him as I was worried for him during this time. I tell everyone I love them and I am on my way. The longest trip down hallways in my life. That squeaky wheel is annoying as hell. I am also given a nebulizer to take during the trek. I can't remember what it is but I had to finish it before being brought in to the O.R. I just gotta say I was sitting in front of the O.R looking through the windows at the room where they biggest event of my life was taking place and I was scared to death. Finally, we get in to the room and the prep starts. That make sure I am me and that this surgery is the correct surgery. I get strapped down on to the table and have a hair net on. The nurse with me the whole time was a sweetheart. I remember laying there, cold and looking around trying to see if I can actually notice the new lungs somewhere poking out but of couse I can't. The last thing I remember was laying there and telling the nice nurse with the pink cap to not let me die and then I was out. No pressure lady, I am sorry to put that on you.

Then it was time for an 8.5 hour nap.

Ashley / Bitch I Lived