That’s one of the things I keep asking myself on those long walks with Bernie. I’m not who I used be; that sick guy who spent so much time in doctor’s offices and hospitals, who siphoned off so much of my wife’s life. Thank God for that. But I’m not who I was before that, either. To be honest, I hardly remember him. It was almost twenty years ago when I was first diagnosed with C.O.P.D and began the long slide down.
In the beginning of my recovery I was the man who had a double lung transplant. That persona enveloped my life. I wrote a poem about Camellia Rose, the bed and breakfast in
But eventually even the best material wears out – cloth and well as transplant stories. That’s when I started thinking who am I – really? And realized how fortune I was. This new life has given me a new chance to decide. And every day, Bernie and I are working on it.
The real point here is that whether you’ve lived though an extraordinary experience or not, you have a chance everyday to decide who you are.