Testimonial: Dear Donor

A testimony from Clémence Nardini

Dear donor,

Today is the 3650th day of what I would like to call “my new life.” How to explain all the emotions that pass through a person waiting for a new organ. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I remember that night when the surgeon called me to tell me that they had lungs for me. Those tears of relief but also of fear when I told my sister Cha the news. Words full of love and hope shared with my parents in front of the operating room door. Every day, I remember that night in November when I was called for the transplant. From the day I woke up, and from that moment that would certainly have marked the end of my life. From the first time I ever sat in a chair. I remember everything. Of this operating room and these floor-to-ceiling windows where I could see everything that was going on. Of this white sheet that covered my whole body, of all these machines to which I was connected. Of this mask on my nose, of these electrodes placed on my chest and of these surgeons ready to open my chest.

Of this “Clémence, are you ready? ” pronounced by the anesthesiologist. I remember everything, down to the smallest detail. From waking up in intensive care, intubated with drains on each side. From that first feeling when I was able to breathe by myself. Of these first words spoken, of the time when I was told that that was it, the hardest part had been done. Dear donor, I remember that you had to lose your life to save mine. And, you were there, somewhere; I could not see you but I knew that the one who had been through the same pain as me was still standing. I wanted to say “I love you” as many times as I needed to. Say “thank you” to you for everything I've learned. I would like to tell you everything that has happened in my life, tell you about who I have become and about everything that I have been able to experience thanks to you. I would like to tell you about all the feelings I had, all my pain and all my joy. Write hundreds of pages of memories, disappointments but also hope. Hundreds of pages of memories to always remind me of. Remembering how often I laughed, and how much pain I could have felt as well. Remembering all the times my heart was broken and all the times that life made me happy. Remind me about you. From the first time I understood what it was to suffer, from the first time I felt alive again. I would like to tell you all about my life here, just to never forget. I've been waiting for you for 5 months, every day I force myself to keep a positive mind, with bigger goals than those I had before. In the space of 8 hours my life has completely changed. November 19, 2006 gave me hope and being released 40 days after the surgery was a miracle.

Dear donor, you made me cry more than once, sometimes I was mad at you, but you allowed me to feel the love, compassion, and strength that I needed. You showed me that nothing is taken for granted and especially that nothing lasts. That you have to live in the moment because life is short and everything can change overnight. All those moments when we asked ourselves if I was going to live another day, we thought that soon I would be able to climb stairs, dance, and laugh. Things that are so insignificant and yet so important. For many nights these thoughts were the only things that allowed me to get past the pain and suffering; to see my family smile again. It is only now that I realize how long it has been. We curse an ordeal, but we don't know, when it happens to us, that it will make us grow and take us elsewhere. We don't want to know that. The pain is too strong to be recognized as a virtue. It is when the pain has passed, that we look back and we consider, amazed, the long way that it has taken us. It was Saturday November 19, 2006 and since then, I have been walking without having to stop at every step I take, I travel without taking my oxygen bottle everywhere I go, I dance until I lose my balance and I eat without being disgusted at every bite. Life has finally become what it was meant to be. As I always wanted her to be.

Dear donor, I don't know when I will be told the end of this beautiful and wonderful story, or if a new lung transplant will be possible but I would like to thank you. Thank you for letting me breathe without the help of oxygen for 10 years, thank you for no longer tiring me at the smallest actions and actions, thank you for letting me dance, sing, travel, travel, laugh as I want to. Just like I always wanted.

Dear donor, today is the 3650th day but no words will be strong enough to tell you how much you saved my life.

“Our life starts when we realize that we only have one.”

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