My First Post:

Welcome to the “My Second Life” blog.

I’m Samantha. I’m 27 years old. Nothing about my life is ordinary. I sincerely hope you enjoy all that I have to share.

Naming my site was much easier than I anticipated. I decided on “My Second Life” because in a sense, the past few years I’ve been living what I consider to be my second chance at this extraordinary life — and living is an understatement. Thriving, better describes life recently, and I’m really excited to share all the reasons why.

Here, I’ll be sharing everything from growing up with Cystic Fibrosis, to how I stay positive & full of faith through trials, my journey after receiving a double lung transplant, and how through all of these experiences I manage to live a life full of excitement, passion, adventure, and most of all, gratitude.

Starting a blog is something I’ve considered for years but also something that was always just a little too far outside my comfort zone. One of my biggest fears? No one will read it…. or care. What was scarier than that was, what if people actually do read it? What will they think? It’s literally taken me years to get over that. I’ve never been an over-sharer. Actually, I’ve never really even been a sharer. I once dated a guy for a year and a half before even telling him I had CF – Cystic Fibrosis – an incurable lung disease. I hid hospital stays, PICC LINE IV’s, coughing up blood… hid it all because I was afraid to share the real me. I did, however, always find writing to be therapeutic. So much that during my sickest times, I wound up writing an entire fictional book about a rockstar who suffered from Cystic Fibrosis like I did. Honest to goodness. I wrote an entire 75,000-word book about fictional people because I wasn’t comfortable enough writing about myself.  All of that changed, though, after I received the gift of life.

I apologize in advance for the length of this post.

It’s my first one though and I want to make sure I don’t leave anything out!

Here’s the shortest version I can make of my story: after suffering for years in my early 20s on oxygen tanks, feeding tubes, poor quality of life and failing lungs due to Cystic Fibrosis, my doctors at the University of Penn told me I had weeks left to live. This was four years ago. Dying young was something I always anticipated. I knew the reality of my disease. I can’t say I “accepted” the fact that I would die when I was 23, but the news didn’t surprise me. I had spent my life up to that moment actually waiting for that moment, but when it finally came, it just didn’t feel right.

I lived what I thought was a pretty eventful life up until then, too. I did my best to experience what I felt most people my age should have experienced. I went to high school, played sports, went to prom, tried college, fell hard in love, had my heart broken. I’ve had true friends and fake friends. I’d been to Disney — (a necessity for what I consider a well-lived life). I’d gotten drunk… too drunk. I stayed out too late and had my share of rebellion. I experienced death of a loved one. I experienced so much goodness in life, too. I chose to see miracles when others chose to see coincidence. I knew what it felt like to be loved and surrounded by family and friends. I spent most of my time as a nursing home volunteer because I was always too sick to hold down a real job — but I had those for a little bit too. Because of all these things, I thought I’d be more “ready” to die. But I wasn’t. There was something missing. I felt as though, even with all the living I thought I’d done, I hadn’t yet found my purpose. If I were to die in the weeks ahead, did I feel accomplished enough to actually leave this world? Is this something a 23-year-old should have to think about?

I was given an option to be listed on the transplant-waiting-list. I couldn’t believe this was something people actually had to think about. To me, it was just so simple. Do you want to let yourself die, or do you want to do everything you can to try to live? To this day, I firmly believe it was the greatest choice I’ve ever made. After transplant is full of its own hardships. Like, an ungodly amount of hardships, but they are worth it. This life is worth it. I try my hardest not to judge those who forgo the transplant, but I’ll never understand. I wholeheartedly chose the list. Even if I died during the surgery, at least I could say I did everything in my power to keep living. I was told to be hopeful, but realistic. I had weeks to live and some people on the waiting list had been on there for months – even years, but once my name was on that list, I had no doubt anymore. I could feel in my bones that I was getting a transplant. My heart knew; my soul knew. My spirit was too full of life to end and I realize now, my life hadn’t even started yet. All the living I thought I’d done was so insignificant in comparison to life after transplant and I want to share all of the beautiful reasons why.

I was placed on the list June 4, 2014. I was called with a perfect match on June 24th, 2014 — 20 days. I hope you  understand why I see miracles now. Because I am one.

Recovery was hell. Four years later I’m still recovering. I’ll be recovering as long as I live — and I’m proud of it. I won’t list the hundreds of setbacks I’ve dealt with because they’re all in the past. They’re negative and no one wants to hear about negativity. I will tell you, however, how I finally found my purpose.

I wasn’t cleared to work after my surgery. I never finished school. I’d lost touch with a lot of friends. I was still heartbroken over a relationship that ended after I disclosed how sick I really was. All I really had was my faith, and my team — a  group of people who never left my side and did everything they could to keep me fighting for life. That’s all I needed.

One night when I couldn’t sleep, I was up on my phone thinking of ways I could give back to this world for blessing me with a second chance at life. I thought because I had been so close to death, that maybe I had a calling in hospice care. I had a very unique perspective and connection with hospice patients, since I was one of few people living who could understand what it was like to be at the end of your own life. I applied for a volunteer position with a local hospice. I went through an all-day orientation and a couple weeks later was assigned six patients to visit at different nursing homes. I was surprised at how naturally it came to me. I could talk to these patients about anything. Unlike other volunteers, I had nothing but time on my hands because I wasn’t working, so I would just keep asking for more patients to visit. I did this for 6 months before my doctor cleared me for a job. I was doing so well, even with my setbacks, that my lung transplant doctor said if I want to find a little job, I was healthy enough.

This scared me because I’d never been capable of anything normal before — including a job. I always had being sick as an excuse to have not finished school and to not have worked. Now, I was healthy for the first time in my entire life and I had no idea how to handle that. Fortunately, God is never without a plan and I’ve seen his hand in my life so clearly that it’s impossible to deny. That same day — THE VERY SAME DAY — that I was cleared to work, I got a call from the current Volunteer Coordinator at the hospice I was volunteering for. She was going back to school to become a nurse and before they posted her job on their website, they wanted to know if I was interested in running the volunteer department. This was just the beginning of the storm of miracles that poured down on me after I started living this new and grateful life full of passion and excitement. This position was no coincidence. It was and still is exactly where I am meant to be.

I took the job.

I met the boy.

I did all the living.

Just like that.

I plan to tell you all about the boy and the living and the adventures and the LIFE in future posts.

God, there’s just so much ground to cover!

We’re almost done but know this — while I was still in the hospital only days after my transplant, I visualized this blog. I really did. I thought of the pictures I would take doing things I had only ever imagined — like being able to breathe normally enough to go for a hike. To see nature and leaves and trees and feel the breeze on my face and be able to breathe it all in. I thought of being able to sit on the beach for hours without needing my dad to carry me to the car for a portable nebulizer because I couldn’t breathe. In the hospital, I could close my eyes tight enough to actually feel sea mist and the warmth of sun on my face.  I thought of the simple things people take for granite every day that I had lost the ability to do, and how good it would feel to do them again — simple things like sing in the car or walk the mall — or adventurous things like go to concerts or swim with dolphins – WHICH I DID and can’t wait to share with you! I imagined pictures of these things in a scrap book with handwritten stories under them. I imagined being in the arms of a man who accepted me for all that I’ve been through and all that I am now. I never knew what these things felt like. Well, I do now.

Four years later, I have hundreds of pictures and almost unbelievable adventures to share. Through a fighting spirit for life and the deepest faith, a lifetime of suffering and an endless spirit of gratefulness, I’m now able to really live. Like, really live. Not just be alive, but thrive. I can love, I can laugh, I can live, I can feel, taste, see, smell, dance, cry — I can do anything. I feel invincible. Unstoppable. Unbreakable.

I’ve gone zip-lining, rode an elephant, swam with dolphins, rode in a hot air balloon, went to the Florida Keys, spent the day on a fishing boat, rode on jet-ski’s, hiked trails, parasailed! Life just started and it’s the most beautiful experience. Even the “ordinary days” are extraordinary. This world recognized my determination to live and that’s exactly what I’m doing — every single day.

I plan to share all of these adventures with you through this blog.

I hope through all I have to share you find positivity, faith and the inspiration to reach for the stars in your own life.

There is so much more to come 🙂

-Sam 🙂