Remember.

Today is a day of Remembrance, a day where we remember everyone who has fallen serving our Country. I appreciate this day, as I realise I am here today, through every service persons efforts to ensure our lives remain established as they are today.

My brother was an Army Captain for a fair few years. I know he had a hard time in the service, and I know his passion for being in the army was so that I could sit, read, eat and do anything I liked in life in comfort. Bless them all.

The Remembrance Day today led me to remember aspects of my life that I am grateful for. It occurred to me to recall the struggles in life I had, and a time I escaped by writing a blog. I reread my blog entries, and feel immense heartache for the person I was at the time. I feel like I need to explain the circumstances routing to the need to write my previous entries.

At seven years old I moved to a new area about 6 miles away from my previous home. My new home was in a much more of a village atmosphere, and rather cosy in feel. I started at a new primary school and within three months of being the new girl at school I struck up a very special friendship with another seven year old on the playground bench. As this event was twenty years ago, it’s hard to recall everything, but I will never forget laughing so much and building an amazing friendship with this girl from that day on. Our friendship continued in life until 2008, when sadly she passed away.

Sarah, 23, was born with Cystic Fibrosis (CF), something until reaching Secondary School I would not admit to realising was life threatening. At Junior School my parents sat me down and told me that Sarah was not as well as me and therefore had to take medication every day to make her feel better. A small part of Sarah’s CF treatment meant she had to take enzymes with everything she ate. Unfortunately her pancreas could not break down fat, so therefore these enzymes helped her body do this. Sarah needed a very high in fat diet to retain weight, so therefore she was evidently thinner than most children at her age. Something later in life she had to constantly battle with, was to retain weight, to help enable her fight infections. Something in this memory of my parents talking to me made me engage my brain to know I needed to look after my friend. She was so special that I wanted to make sure that her happiness matched mine and somehow I could help make her better.

Sarah and I went to the same Secondary school, and were lucky enough to be kept in the same class, I suspect now this was not through luck, but more to help support Sarah too. Secondary school was a much more independent place and where we really affirmed our lifelong friendship. I also started to witness the slow decline in Sarah’s health. Admissions into hospital appeared to be more common, and planned events in the last year or so at school could often be cancelled through her tired body needing a well-earned break. This was also the point where Sarah stopped attending Children’s hospital and moved to adult hospital… Something she’d been very apprehensive about, having known the staff at the Children’s hospital since birth, like they were friends and extremely supportive.

Once we reached 17, it was evident we were at a real turning point in our lives. We’d built up a solid 11 year friendship, which some adults today have never managed to establish. We saw each other every day including socialising at the weekends, we knew our hates, frustrations, loves and passions. We always knew what each other thought, and if not we fought until one would agree. There was no room for politeness in our friendship as we were comfortable. At this stage we came as a pair. Our names were joined and an invite to a party had to be extending to both, if you’d expect us to attend. By now, we’d also allowed for boys to come into our lives, as we were both fiercely protective of each other it could be a hard task to be excepting of the others tastes.

At 18 Sarah moved to a university. Sarah managed to stay at university for a term. She’d moved her life into halls, and made a massive stab at doing her degree. Unfortunately, this is the point in life where I noticed life started slowing Sarah down. Hospital admissions were becoming frequent and tiredness was becoming a socialisation killer. At this stage I started university myself but stayed in London, so it was actually very easy to visit Sarah after lectures and build our adult friendship during her hospital admissions. Sarah had to grow up very quickly at this stage, and reality was starting to bite her. Being in an adult ward, the preciousness of life was evident from those around her. At 21, the topic of transplant was soon raised. I remember Sarah telling me and the tears that followed. Who at 21 should be told they may be in for a possible life line?
Sarah was put forward for transplant assessment at 22 and was then on the active transplant list?
During this time, Sarah was often in and out of hospital every two weeks. It was heart-breaking, at this stage she was on o2 24 hours a day and often hooked up to having IVs. Once on the list, we had the most personal and deep chat you could have, and I suspect some may never have. Sarah spoke to me about death. Her wishes, and asks. We cried so much and I remember clearly holding her hand. Her intention whilst on the list was to write individual letters, this never happened, life simply passed by too quickly.

Sadly at 23 Sarahs infection levels were rocket high and she was taken off the transplant list until her levels lowered. Sadly in June 2008 Sarah passed away, at peace with her parents, sister and I at her side. Relief the suffering was offer, but absolutely desperate that we could not believe this possible situation actually arrived.

Reading the previous blogs below it clearly shows my heartache. I feel it is now important to describe my best friend. Life for me could not be any more different to that in 2009, but although my happiness has been reprieved, my heart still aches for the soul who helped create the person I am today…