My friend Lisa Hertwig is 25.
She has cystic fibrosis and has been waiting for a life-saving double lung transplant for nearly three years.
Last year she got the call she had been waiting for when she was told potential lungs were available for her.
She was rushed to Newcastle and prepped for theatre.
She waited with her family, exchanging words of comfort and love.
We sent text messages to each other about how frightened she was and how much we all love her.
Then she was told the operation wasn’t going ahead. Just like that, her chance was gone.
She then had to make the long journey back from Newcastle, broken and in shock from the whirlwind she had found herself in.
This was an emotionally traumatic experience for Lisa that took her a while to recover from.
So, when the call came a few weeks ago for the second time, she only told her parents and three closest friends.
No one knew she was being rushed down again, that she was prepped for theatre again, that she was saying all of the things a person wants to say before a huge operation again and no one knew that she was given the news that the operation wasn’t to go ahead… again.
Once home, Lisa posted a video on Facebook explaining what had happened and her reasons for not telling us.
Watching that video absolutely broke my heart. She explained that watching us hurt, hurts her even more. Hearing our sympathy makes her feel worse.
Talking about waiting for her new lungs she said: “It’s like being diagnosed with terminal cancer and the doctor saying ‘We might give you life-saving chemo therapy, but then we might not, you’ll just have to wait and see’ and then you wait every day for the phone to ring while you get more and more sick.”
Right now in Scotland, there are 560 people waiting for a life-saving transplant.
If more organs were available, people like my wee Lisa wouldn’t have to face this anxious wait.
Everyone has their own thoughts and feelings about organ donation and it is absolutely your own decision. But if the phrase “I’m not too bothered” or “I just haven’t got round to it” come to mind when you are sitting reading this wonderful wee paper, then I appeal to you right now to please, please ‘#Take2minutes’ more out of your day and sign the organ donor register then discuss your wishes with your family.
The greatest gift I can give to my wee brave friend is to get as many people to sign the register as possible and the greatest gift any of us all can give to another in the event of our own death is life.
To sign the organ donation Scotland register visit : www. organdonationscotland.org or call 0300 123 2323
I am a very proud Ambassador of the Butterfly Trust.. They provide support for people with Cystic Fibrosis in Scotland - please visit www.butterflytrust.org. uk for more information about Cystic Fibrosis.
It’s the moment every curvy lassie dreads happening.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, this week on set… I broke a chair with my bum!
Gayle (Caitlin) , Ben (Drew) and I were filming, and at one point I sit down on a chair.
I sat on the chair in rehearsal and snap! The leg buckled beneath me. I was in hysterics, the crew all came running to help but I was absolutely fine.
However when we came to shoot the scene we couldn’t get through it because every time I had to sit on the chair, Gayle and I burst out laughing.
So River City fans, when you are watching an episode in the summer with the three of us in the kitchen and I sit down at the kitchen table, you will know that moments before I was on my bum on the studio floor, eyes peeking over the table and tears of laughter streaming down my face after wrecking the set.
I came across this great wee business on twitter: ‘Named Capes’ (Twitter: @ capesNamed)
I thought these might boost the morale of our very own little superheroes who are so brave whilst receiving hospital treatment, so I’ve asked a couple of wee cheeky Shieldinch favourites to come and visit the children’s hospital with me in the summer… watch this space.
I’d like to dedicate this to my beloved hubby:
‘ I love you so much, except when you snore. Then I want to hit you with a shovel.’ –Anonymous
Donation plea Leah with her pal, Lisa Hertwig, who is waiting for a lung transplant