It was a homerun day despite the rain delays.

Actually there were no rain delays, but my drives up and back from Nashville were perilous with blinding rain. In both directions I drove many many miles with my hazard lights screaming - even the big scary trucks spitting water every which way had hazard lights on.

But it was worth it. Made me a little (okay, a lot) tired. I almost hobbled to bed without posting tonight, but gravity changed the rules and pulled me sideways to my computer - to give you the update you all deserve. I thank so many of you who stepped up to the plate yesterday and lifted my spirits. Yesterday was your homerun day - bases loaded with your kindness.


*****


Our family moved to Laguna Beach in 1986. It was still a beautiful, sleepy little coastal village. Well, kinda-sorta. There was a man in town everyone called Skipper. His reputation preceded our introduction, but I can recall thinking that his nickname had a nice nautical ring to it.

Skipper was one of the most beloved people in Laguna Beach. I think he may have been in his 40s when we arrived. He was a huge, huge baseball fan and wore a uniform every day as he skipped around town smiling and waving and wishing everyone a *Homerun Day*.

While typing that last sentence I got a little choked up, my eyes batting back emotion. Skipper was sweet. He wished nothing but the best for people... and the folk of Laguna Beach treated him with the utmost respect - to the best of my knowledge. Writing about this odd but kind man made me wish there were more Skippers in the world - wanting nothing but to wish people a Homerun Day. And despite the fact he was a little odd, he brought out the best in people. Why can't it always be that way? *sigh*


*****


So, today was a homerun day for me. I have no specifics to hand you. My appointment at Vanderbilt went well and then I had a chance to talk to one of my favorite ever people in research. She wouldn't confess, but I suspect she sacrificed a break or lunch or something to take time from her busy day to visit over a cup of coffee.

Questions were answered regarding this transition time from Vanderbilt to whatever hospital will list me. (This is information the transplant people should have given me.) I hope it will be Cleveland Clinic that lists me - they also work closely with Pittsburgh Medical Center - another very fine transplant destination.

I now have a name with contact information at Vandy - the person who will be my go-to regarding all my transplant questions, the person who will be my advocate, the one who will be my liaison. I had none of this information until today - part of the reason I was feeling so unsettled.

The thing that some people might not understand fully... my evaluation was terribly mishandled. It wasn't like I'd ordered chocolate cake and was given vanilla. It wasn't like I ordered size 9 shoes and got size 6. I was thrashed with devastating news in such an unacceptable venue and cavalier manner. While I personally feel the lung transplant evaluation team needs some revamping, the Pulmonary Clinic is tops - and I'm so glad they will always be an anchor for me.

Something else I think people should know about me. If you see me and I appear happy and silly and my usual smiling self... well, that's me. The real deal. I don't for one nanosecond perform or pretend. My life and my illness aren't some silly Best of Show. I don't laugh to impress people. Yeah, that's what I'm trying to say. I don't laugh to impress people! So, when I do have a rare day with a rare slump - that's the real me, too. I'm not vying for any blue ribbon. I am who I am. What you get is what you see. So put away the chisels for any thoughts of a pedestal. When people think of me during this challenging time in my life... I want them to recognize my honesty. My honest-to-goodness honesty. Am I afraid to die? No. Am I ready? Well, two years ago I thought I was until my youngest son made it clear it was non-negotiable - that he wants me to be a grandmother to his children. How could I refuse? So I'm proactive and pushy and sometimes prickly as I strive to live so someday I can hold those grandbabies. And when I'm not fighting the fight - there's more laughter in my life than a person deserves. I'm one lucky woman. (Okay, maybe a little pedestal.)

*****

It was a homerun day. Patience simply poured into me - peace took root - faith renewed. How hobbled we can become when we want the world to operate with our timetable.

The drive and walking today was exhausting so I'll be back on the treadmill tomorrow! It's 7:30 pm and I'm headed for bed! Nighty-night.