I was talking to my brother a few minutes ago—these days we're in touch more often than we used to be. We chatted about a variety of relatively innocuous things when he said he had heard something that would blow my mind. Now that's an expression I often use and I found it funny coming from him, who's far less prone to exaggeration.
He'd gotten a call from his transplant coordinator, who isn't the same as mine, to see where he stood with testing. He's got one more big one this Friday and then he's done. She asked about me—I'm just waiting for the rest of my results to come in. And then, she said if all came through we could be on the schedule by the end of the month.
And in that moment, I got really happy.
Kind of thrilled.
Am I crazy? Sort of. But I am so relieved that I might be able to help, that I can make a difference, that I can share something healing and life-changing.
Oh. My. God.
I suggested that we get matching pajamas for the hospital.
And I have to say, my brother's been very good natured about all my ridiculous suggestions.