How it all began

There are moments in life when things change, even though you don’t realize it at the time.

For me, the beginning didn’t happen with a single diagnosis or a dramatic situation. It began years earlier, in places that looked ordinary from the outside, even to me. It began with the weight of surviving two difficult marriages, carrying burdens that no one could see, and slowly losing pieces of myself while trying to hold it all together.

For years, I kept moving forward. I worked diligently, established two businesses that I cherished, supported those around me, and believed that true strength was facing whatever challenges life presented. However, the body remembers the stress, the fear, the heartache, and the relentless survival mode. Ultimately, these all impacted my health.

Initially presenting as symptoms like extreme fatigue, anxiety, stress, dry eye, and dry mouth, these issues were never diagnosed. What appeared to be temporary turned chronic, and what I assumed was mere exhaustion evolved into a journey through a serious illness that eventually led me to the unimaginable possibility of needing a double lung transplant.

I never thought for a moment that I would one day rely on oxygen, undergo pulmonary function tests, follow medication schedules, and undergo transplant evaluations. I never expected to have to part with the life I had established, shut down a business I had spent fourteen years building, or learn to trust in a future beyond my control.

And here I am.

In 2012, I was interviewing a massage therapist for my spa. During the practical portion, I requested that she concentrate on my back for about 15-20 minutes. After getting off the massage table, I found myself unable to breathe, coughing incessantly, and unable to speak. I immediately drove to Kaiser, where my general practitioner had a standing order for an X-ray due to my asthma. As I was leaving the parking lot after the appointment, my doctor called to inform me that I needed to return because the X-ray showed significant inflammation and scarring in both lungs.

Eventually, they discovered that I had an autoimmune disease, which was the cause of those undiagnosed symptoms from before, known as Sjögren’s. I couldn't spell it, let alone pronounce it! This disease was in a complete flare-up and was essentially destroying my lungs with another disease called Interstitial Lung Disease (ILD).

I had an excellent rheumatologist who managed everything with medications for eleven years. However, in 2023, the situation became too concerning, and I needed to be evaluated for a transplant.

This blog was born from that journey.

It is for the women who are waiting. The women who are recovering. The women who are scared, hopeful, exhausted, grateful, angry, courageous—or all of those things at the same time. It is a place where we can tell the truth about what this experience is really like.

Because behind every transplant is a story.

This is mine.

And if you’re reading this, I hope you’ll share yours too.

Breathe. Courage. Grace.

One breath at a time, one day at a time, one story at a time.