Mourning Meredith

Unfair. The only thing I can think is that it’s so unfair.

Meredith Farrell had so much to accomplish and so much to offer the world. Even while horribly ill and suffering terribly, she did so much and touched so many people. Just imagine what she could have done with her full strength!

I met Meredith when I joined Nina and Danny Butler (another family who knows all about unfair) for a Pesach meal a few years ago. Meredith had an immunodeficiency disorder that made her unable to fight off pneumonia, and she was waiting for a lung transplant due to significant, irreversible lung damage. We bonded over medical issues, and became Facebook friends. I followed her story through her blog and Facebook updates, but honestly did not make a significant effort to be more in touch – because I was scared. I’d already lost people I loved to serious medical issues, and I was afraid to go through that pain again, and the frightening foreshadowing of my own future that accompanies it. But I watched, and prayed, and hoped for the best.

Meredith went through such hell, both before and after transplant. She waited so long, and was so, SO sick before finally getting that long-awaited lung transplant. And then eventually she got a second transplant from the same donor, this time bone marrow, in the hopes that it would address the immunodeficiency disorder and increase the likelihood of the lung transplant being successful. With both transplants, she struggled with complication after complication, often painfully, and was repeatedly hospitalized. During the last couple years it seemed she spent more time in the hospital than out of it. I knew things had been getting worse recently, and I had the horrible thought that she probably wasn’t going to make it. I just didn’t realize it would be this soon.

I hate how much she suffered, and for how long, especially for it to end like this. I hate that her bright and loving spirit was snuffed out far too soon. I hate that there are so many more things that she could have done and accomplished and experienced, but never will.

And I fear. I fear the day when I’ll be the inspiring one fighting tooth and nail against an almost hopeless situation. I fear watching my world get smaller and smaller as my life dwindles down to just trying to survive another day. I fear trying everything, pulling out all the stops, desperately holding on in the hopes of a successful treatment or transplant and a new lease on life – only to ultimately fail. If someone could tell me “It will be excruciating, but in the end it will be worth it,” I could probably persevere. Or if someone could tell me, “There is nothing else you can do,” I could accept and cope with that, and die with dignity on my own terms. But no one can tell me either of those things. Instead, I’ll have to fight and gamble and hope, never knowing whether or not it will actually get me anywhere. And that is terrifying.

It’s. Not. Fair.


To learn more about Meredith’s life, visit her blog at friendsofmeredith.wordpress.com