#donatehope

[mommylovestech]

Give the gift of hope this #GivingTuesday to the champions of #raredisease. In honor of their 10th anniversary, donate $10 or $100 to @globalgenes by texting #donatehope to 41444 #careaboutrare (at Los Angeles, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/BqtDgpDlqYj/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1504a4c1kcxxq

[help-me-oprah]

Today would have been her 25th birthday.

Today I have been stuck in a foggy headed loneliness that comes on this day every year, as today is also only 8 days short of the 8th anniversary of her passing.

Let me go back. We were 17 years old. She was five days older than me and she had me wrapped around her little finger. She knew it too. She was my best friend and her name was Courtney. She had been at my house so often that my parents referred to her as their fourth daughter and to my little sisters, she was the perfect. They idolised her.

We had another friend whose birthday is 12 days after mine, and Courtney decided we would have an epic joint birthday party for the three of us at my house. Of course my parents agreed, she had them wrapped around her finger too. She spent the weeks leading up to the party planning every last detail, I pretty much gave her free rein. I let her do whatever she wanted.

I let her plan her little heart out, even when I got the worst feeling I had ever had, in the pit of my stomach. It was dark, deep and awful and a feeling I will never forget. I told my mum about it and she told me that I couldn’t cancel the party based on a feeling because it would break Courtney’s heart.

It was finally the night of the party, the Friday between our birthdays making it the perfect date in her eyes. The party was going great, until she told me that she had invited a girl all three of us had been fighting with because she felt bad when everyone else was there. I was so mad at her because she didn’t tell me about it, she knew it too and she actually ran away from me. I remember telling her that she’d better uninvite her quick smart as I didn’t want that *insert colourful language here* at my house. When she said that she had uninvited her, I felt better and decided that that was what the previous bad feeling had been about.

I remember our friend we were sharing the party with grabbing her camera and taking some pictures as Courtney’s mum had requested, but I avoided being in front of the camera at all costs. Little did we know that one of the photos taken that night would end up being one of the most important pictures any of us had ever taken.

The three of us that shared the party, along with a few others crashed in my living room. We had no idea that everything we knew and loved was about to change.

I woke up the next morning to find Courtney sitting at my dining room table eating pizza shapes and tzatziki dip for breakfast. It was the last positive image I would have of her.

I was awoken again shortly after by Courtney in the middle of a fully fledged asthma attack. She had had her ventolin on her, but it was unfortunately ineffective. She knew that my sister had a nebuliser but in the midst of my panic, I could not think. She directed me toward it and we got her on it. By this point we knew that she wasn’t getting any better and needed medical attention. I remember running out the front of my house and screaming at the top of my lungs for my dad. We didn’t have the time it would take for an ambulance to get to us. He came inside, picked her up and threw her in the car, rushing her to the nearest medical clinic.

Waiting for him to return was the most agonising wait of my life. I will never forget the look on his face when he came back inside. I will never forget my knees buckling from beneath me as I ended up in a heap on the floor. I will never forget the out of body experience I had, seeing myself on the floor, supported by my dad, heaving sobs into his shoulder. I will never forget that moment, for that was the moment I knew.

Robot Jess took over. I hoped, but I knew.

I showered. I hoped, but I knew.

I got dressed. I hoped, but I knew.

We got in the car. I hoped, but I knew. We went to the hospital. I hoped, but I knew.

I walked into ICU. I hoped, but I knew. I saw her on the respirator. I hoped, but I knew. I sat down on the end of her bed with the nurse. I knew.

The nurse told me they were trying, but I should say my goodbyes.

I cried, quieter than before. I told her I loved her. I told her she was my best friend. I asked her not to go. I asked her to stay with me. I asked her to fight. But, just looking at her, I knew the girl I loved, my best friend, was gone. She was a shell. She was cold to the touch. She was alive, but her soul wasn’t there. I left the room. And, I didn’t go back in.

For four days, I sat in the waiting room with her Uncle and Aunty. I watched as our friends and the people who loved her, came and went, but her family, and mine, remained constant. Her uncle sent me home to sleep each night. And on the final night, he told my mum to take me home and not to bring me back the next day.

On Wednesday March 1st, 2006, Courtney’s mum decided with the support of her family (and after asking my opinion), to turn off Courtney’s life support and donate her organs. I knew her, I knew it’s what she would have chosen for herself. I knew she would have told my parents to do the same if the situation were reversed.

In the midst of our greatest tragedy, many families were given the gift of hope and life. I can think of no better way for her legacy to live on.

Please have the organ donation discussion with your family, as ultimately they will be the ones to decide.

Donate life, donate hope.