It’s nearly been 2 years since my transplant. And things are going pretty well. We’ve sort of settled into the new place and are meeting new and lovely people. Sophie is walking, running, talking, and generally pushing every single boundary that can be pushed.
And yet I feel that there’s something missing. At the end of the day, I’d like to think that God gave me a second chance in life for a reason; other than to get on the property ladder, to make more money, to be there for Sophie and the wife. That’s all very important but what if there’s something else?
I was very lucky. I had something to cling on to; Sophie and my wife. My family offered me all the support that they could muster (although they were old and it was very very hard on them). I had fantastic doctors and nurses. But what of those who are less fortunate? Those whose families can’t see them every day? Or those who don’t have much to hope for or cling to?
I had wished before that if I or my experiences could make a difference to just one person, it would be absolutely fantastic. I had a ‘vision’ of me, standing in front of an audience, speaking about my experiences. It wasn’t anything fancy, just me talking about what I’ve been through, and how faith and hope helped me through the most difficult times. I like to think that it’s a sign for me to get my butt in gear, to help, in my own small way, people who are experiencing the same things that I was.
Unlike many, I actually DO know what they are talking about. I can share my limited experience but I can share how I hoped and dreamt and how I had faith. If that makes a difference to just one person, it’s enough.