My birthday

I have a wonderful problem, it's really quite a delightful dilemma. Today is my birthday. I am forty years old. There have been plenty of times that I wondered if I would live to be this old. The last ten years have been especially challenging. I shifted from having a disease that served as a footnote in my life to a disease that orchestrates my daily routine, dictating my schedule, what I can do and what I can't do.

I was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis when I was eighteen months old. At the time the doctors told my parents I would be fortunate to live to be eighteen. Much has changed since then , early diagnosis and better treatment means someone born today with the disease will live an average of thirty-four years. I am forty years old! I made it to the next decade. I am blessed.

I am plagued with a question. Why me? Why am I fortunate enough to live while others with the disease fight harder and live shorter lives, many dying before reaching adulthood. I do not know the answer. However the inquiry leaves me with a hyper awareness that our lives are not to be taken for granted, each day is a gift bestowed on us by the author of life and death.

The problem I spoke of earlier involves a lack of planning. I never pictured myself living this long. It felt a little presumptuous to think I could live to be forty. Even now, the idea of being this old is settling in. I'm thrilled to be here, quite curious to see what the next chapter of my book will look like.