From the start of 1999 my lung deterioration due to pulmonary fibrosis was becoming evident even to me, because I finally had to be placed on oxygen 24 hours a day. Up until the end of March, movies, shopping, dining out and travel were still possible, though carrying two oxygen tanks with me wherever I went proved to be a little bit of a pain. However, by April 1999, these activities were no longer possible, and even the simplest, most basic tasks cost a steep price in strength, energy, and breath.

My sleep was interrupted by a nagging cough, night sweats, and tangled oxygen lines. Upon wakening in the morning to a full bladder and desperately meowing cats, the trip to the bathroom was all I could handle…in no way was I able to tend to the cats. They had to wait until one of my many helpful, caring friends came to feed and play with them. These friends also cared for me, bringing my morning coffee and newspaper, and checking to see that I was still breathing (sort of joking here, but not really). Getting dressed was a difficult and pointless task since it left me with no energy, and where was I going to go anyway, unable to walk, on 8 liters/min oxygen? Soon, even that delicious cup of morning coffee began to taste bad and lose its appeal. And then so did anything else I tried to eat or drink! This was starting to be a real bummer.

By April, I was spending most days lying in bed reading, sleeping, watching videos and sucking on fruit popsicles. The folks from Hospice would come by and take vital signs, bring me bed props and things to help me stay comfortable. Except for my friends and family visiting, my world had shrunk considerably! Needless to say, I was really, really, hoping a donor lung would come along sooner rather than later!

And "the call" did come…on May 8, 1999. It is a Mother's Day weekend my friends and family (and I!) will never forget. After a nearly three week hospital stay, I returned home with my newly transplanted lung, feeling just about as good as new. The clinic checkups, exercise regimen, and medicine schedule took a little getting used to, but breathing freely more than makes up for any of that. I am out of bed and in the world of the really living once again!

In the 10 months since my transplant, I became a step-grandmother for the first time, celebrated my 50th birthday, sold a house, attended a good friend's wedding, and took two terribly dull computer classes. I've also taken trips to Smith Mt. Lake, spent a week at the Outer Banks, vacationed in Hawaii, amassed 20 female friends for a spa weekend in Berkeley Springs, spent Christmas week in Amelia Island, visited friends in Los Angeles, and family in NYC and Stamford. Next month it's the Bahamas with two friends and one of my sisters. Life is anything but mundane, not only because of the travelling I try to do on a regular basis. It is such a thrill to be able to once again do the simplest things by myself. Coffee is the greatest beverage! My morning walks along the lake allow me to see all types of beautiful water fowl, birds, and blossoming trees. I can drive anywhere I want, and even take care of others.

I have almost forgotten how it felt to be breathless, and I never would have believed that could happen. I marvel at the gift I was given by my donor, my doctors, and my friends and loved ones.

Lolly A. Gilmore
Single-Lung transplant Recipient
May 1999

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