This morning I went back into my kidney blog archives to see exactly when it was I'd dreamed the transplant would be 3/21.
I dreamed it back in December, two weeks before I even found out I was a match.
At the time, the dream blew my mind—that when I woke up and checked my calendar, the 21st was in fact a Monday, the only day they do transplants on.
And from the vantage point of today?
Speechless doesn't cover it.
Not to sound too space-agey, but someone, something out there is helping put these pieces together.
We've still got a ways to go. Hopefully nothing will come up during the next 3 weeks. We've got more blood tests, EKG's, x-rays to get through. Then there's the actual surgery, whether my kidney will fit into my brother, and should it, will it work once it's hooked up.
But, we've made it this far. I'm a match. There were so many times and ways this process could have ended before and we're still on track.
As the waves of panic, doubt, fear, anxiety wash over me, I'm holding onto that this was meant to be.
I believe that from the very bottom of my heart.
This was meant to be.
And all will be fine in the end.