Why I Write

Sometimes I question why I still do this. I don’t know if anyone even reads this blog…or even cares about what I have to say. Maybe my aspiration of helping someone, one day, is a little far fetched. It took one person I have known since I was young coming up to me and asking for details about my transplant and recovery to realize what I’m doing is still relevant, not just my imagination.

I don’t talk religion here because it’s not relevant to what I’m doing. So this is just to give you the background of the group of people I was surrounded by to make this so touching. I grew up around a very special community that is incredibly close to my heart. They watched me grow, they were there when I had surgeries, they’ve kept up with my progress, and have recently watched me get healthy. Once a year we all come together for the holidays. It’s kind of a reunion of sorts.


It was then that I was confronted by an old teacher of mine about her husband who was going to be undergoing the surgery in the near future and wanted my input. We went over everything: from me being a case of a low yield of cells and miraculous results, how recovery was hell, how I was utterly depressed, everything. I still don’t know if people even read this, I don’t know if me writing is going to help someone one day. I honestly don’t think it bothers me not knowing. I know why I write and why I want to help people. Having someone come to be for help and comfort in a decision is why.


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