Times Like These

I let this blog take a back burner in my life. The difficulties, the loneliness and the fear of knowing that the man I love was so far away…left to deal with life and death on his own, well, it seemed to render me speechless. Now it is time to blow some life back in this little venture of thoughts and words. But unfortunately….the words aren’t that pretty.

The discouraging news that we received a couple of weeks ago snatched all of our hopes and our dreams away. All of our plans for the future, seemingly swept away….simple plans, really. We aren’t asking for much. Dancing, enjoying sunsets holding hands, traveling to faraway places and finally being able to smile and throw our heads back laughing with total abandon….those simple dreams were totally snatched from our hands and our hearts. The transplant team that we were counting on to save Michael’s life rejected him. Sorry, sir, but you are too challenging of a case for us”.

This process has taught us so much. It is hard to stay positive….We joke that we should  buy a yacht or throw a few parties. We should fill our conversations with lovely happy thoughts of travels and success. Michael and I REALLY do try to find the joy in the every day, the happiness in knowing that there is hope in our future, but sometimes when those doors slam in our faces time and time again it can suck the life out of you.

This brings me to those dear friends who have stood by our sides, listened to our stories and then come back time and again because they knew that this is what we need, to have someone who accepts us regardless of our situation…because these are our real friends. These are the friends who matter and the ones that I will vow to be there for when I regain my life and my strength. And when they need me, I will fight for them like they have fought for me. These are the friends who make me feel that there is a reason for this life, even when it is so difficult that I actually don’t know if I can survive another day or even know if I want to.

If you would like to donate to Michael’s transplant fund, please click here.




The feeling of being mired in slow, tortuous quicksand seems to consume me a little bit more with each day. The reality of what our life could become gripping me like a cold evil wind. I can’t breathe. I can’t sleep. I am afraid.

Michael and I agreed, insisted really, that we had to make the best of these last weeks together….to make strong, good memories  to get us through the separation, the waiting, the medical evaluation and then the surgery. We both knew the importance of being strong and loving and there for each other during this time. We only have each other and soon we won’t have that.

Yet we circle each other silently like zombies each evening, moving silently from computer to TV staring silently, not really watching and then switching back again. We pass each other in our rotation, apologizing for accidentally being in the same path, or brushing against each other “Oh, Sorry!” “No, No, my fault, no problem.” We remain polite and strangely distant, like strangers just meeting awkwardly for the first time instead of like the best friends and passionate lovers we have been for the past 10 years.

It is almost as if we can’t bear the thought of getting too close or of letting down that looming wall of fear….it is a virtual Pandora’s Box of disconcerting thoughts of “worse case scenarios”. We can’t stand to confront those crushing, destructive thoughts and admit that the reality could indeed be the worst outcome ever…or with luck and God’s will, the best we could hope for.

It feels like a cruel game of the ultimate lottery….life or death…and we are reaching out frantically trying to grab a dream…hoping to win the big prize and that our reward will be the gift of life and a future together.

This lung transplant journey is complicated by the cruel complication of having to be apart. Life requires that I stay behind and make a living to pay the bills. But I should be there at this crucial time. I should be by his side. We have been there for each other through every hardship, through every victory, through every experience good and bad for the past 10 years. And now that we are talking life and death, I can’t even be there for him, hold his hand, reassure him. My heart is breaking and I don’t know how to fix it.

If you would like to donate to Michael’s transplant fund, please click here.


Happy Ending

I am sending the love of my life off on a journey….but it is a journey that I wish wasn’t necessary. He will soon be traveling to Arizona to wait for his double lung transplant.

And although we have been pretty much inseparable for nearly 10 years, I can’t accompany him on his journey. I may not even be able to make it to his side when the call comes telling him that they have found a match, that he may be getting his 2nd chance at life through organ donation. But the hope of some good years together with  my partner and soul mate has kept me going.

Some rather grim statistics were released yesterday with Facebook Founder, Mark Zuckerberg’s announcement that Facebook would be adding an organ donation option to the site. According to the United Network for Organ Sharing (UNOS), more than 114,000 Americans are currently on waiting lists for transplants of kidneys, livers, hearts and other organs. More than 6,600 died last year waiting for an organ.

Friends, family and even many people that we barely know have been so supportive. Asking for help is never easy, but we have witnessed an extraordinary effort from so many to help us achieve what seemed like an impossible goal. All the help, compassion, encouragement and financial support has helped ease a difficult path. Thanks to all of you that were there for us when we needed you. I only hope that we can somehow repay your generosity and kindness.

I pray that you send positive thoughts our way and that we will have a long and happy ending to our fairytale love.

Cinderella wants to dance again with her handsome prince again.

If you would like to donate to Michael’s transplant fund, please click here.