Check out that title again, huh?
Three years ago, I was flat on some operating table in the bowels of children's, not sitting here prepping for Opening Night of an awesome show.
And yet, without that day on the operating table, I wouldn't be here. That's for sure.
I was talking to my dad on Thursday and he said that the Saturday before transplant was probably the "worst day." I didn't leave the couch all day, except to try to eat something (which didn't go very well). He had to drag me to Easton the next day (and my dad HATES shopping. Absolutely hates it.). And I do mean drag.
Every day I drive by Children's on my way to work, and last night I drove by after rehearsal. It was about 11 or so, and three years ago Karen was calling us, giving us updates, telling us what to do. I blew the building a kiss as I drove by. I owe the people inside so much.
Three years. Wow.
I'm twenty-six now. I have been to Chicago, New York. I have seen my friends get married and have babies. I saw my brother graduate from college and my sister from high school. I've made new friends and met some awesome people. I have done things I thought I would never get to do. And all because Suzanne in Minnesota decided to donate her organs after she died.
I thank her.
My family and friends thank her.
It seems so inadequate, but it's all I can say. That, and live my life the absolute best I can.
When I mount the stage tonight, it will all be because of her.