Breathing Room: The Art of Living with Cystic Fibrosis

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Breathing Room
facilitates candid and open communication between adults with Cystic Fibrosis, supports the development of a community of adults with CF and provides education and insight for families, caregivers, and medical professionals who impact our lives.

Melissa's Story

By Melissa Reta

Test Edit Melissa Reta is a 26 year old woman living with Cystic Fibrosis. In May 2000, Melissa had a double-lung transplant at the University of Southern California Medical Center. Melissa's story is even more unique because she received a living donor transplant - two generous people underwent surgeries to donate lobes so Melissa could continue living. We welcome Melissa to the Breathing Room, and hope you will appreciate her story.

I believe that my life was planned out for me before I was born, at least the basics of it. I believe that there is a reason that I need to experience the things that I have to get me to the place that I need to be. It is this thought that has got me through many nights.

When I was born, it was thought that I would not have a very long life, and the life that I did have, would be filled with Dr.’s, a lot of medications, treatments, frequent hospital visits, and in general, a whole lot of sickness. Well, it wasn’t quite that bad, but it wasn’t always a lot of fun. I was considered lucky though, I got to do things that others with cystic fibrosis never get to do. I always thanked God that I was blessed enough to do more than others with CF. I had slumber parties, went to my prom, got married, and to me, those were all gifts.

I am not sure how much of it was taught, or how much of it was in my nature, but I never (well, hardly ever), felt sorry for myself. I always thought of myself more as being blessed. I had a wonderful family, great supportive friends, and later, a loving husband. I can walk, and talk, and see and hear. I have always had a roof over my head, clothes to wear, and have never been hungry. How could I complain? Don’t get me wrong, there were things that were hard, especially as I got older, and as I did, reality was hitting me like a ton of bricks. I knew that I would not be growing old with my husband, that he would most likely be spending his later years with another woman. I knew that I would have to rely on someone else to see to it that my parents were taken care of when they couldn’t take care of themselves. I knew that there would be additions to my family that would only know me as a face in a picture. These are all things that I knew, and had to accept as fact at age 20, when I was told that I was a “senior citizen”, and part of a “lost generation”. When all of my friends were going to college, dating, going to bars, getting things in order to live the rest of their lives, I was writing down where I wanted to be buried, and what I wanted to wear in the casket. Making sure I said the things that needed to be said to those I loved. But through all of this, I tried to keep perspective.

One day, when I knew I was nearing the end of my story, I was offered the most wonderful gift. Although I was more afraid of this gift than I have ever been of anything else in my life, I knew the alternative, and this gift, was unknown. You see, I never looked at being sick as a curse. I never looked at transplant as something that I had to do. This was a privilege. The most wonderful gift I have ever been given. It has given me something that I never expected, not a second chance at life, as many that get to have transplant think, but my first chance at life, and a future.

Someone that had dealt with transplant in their life once said to me that I “was lucky”. That transplant was easy for me, and that because I had spent so much of my life in the hospital, I was used to being there, and that made it easier for me too. It took me a minute to get past that statement, and realize that I was lucky. Here I was, 26 years old, “used” to being in the hospital. That I had to go through this at all? That I have not got to do things that “regular” women get to do? But the more I thought of it, the more I realized that I am lucky. Because of being so sick for my whole life, and never getting the freedom of thinking that I had a future, I look at this new life at an entirely different prospective than most. I have been given the gift of going through transplant. This is not an affliction. This is not punishment. I was not owed this, nor had I done anything wonderful for humanity to have earned this. This is a gift that I never had even hoped that I would get. I embrace each new gray hair, the beginning of crow’s feet, the stretch marks, and the eyes going bad. This is a gift that I thank God, and my donors for, every day. I never expected it, and I will never, for one second, take one breath for granted.