I’m grateful post-transplant, but my forgetfulness can still get to me

I used to be the woman who could do it all.

For more than 20 years — from my early 20s into my mid-40s — I worked as a nurse, initially on a cardiac telemetry unit, where I watched heart rhythms shift in real time to catch the small changes before they became emergencies. Much of my career was spent caring for medically fragile children, holding a dozen details in my head at once: dosages, tube feeding schedules, and ventilator settings.

At the same time, I was raising a daughter, keeping track of school projects, sports practices, and sleepovers. And underneath all of it, I was managing my own body with cystic fibrosis (CF) — with pills, airway clearances, and a calendar full of appointments on top of a household that I somehow still ran efficiently.

I didn’t think of it as extraordinary back then, though it was for someone with CF. It was just my life. I was the juggler, and I never dropped a ball.

Recommended Reading

Aug. 29, 2025 Columns by Lara Govendo

8 life lessons since having my double-lung transplant

What I’ve gained and lost

But I’m coming up on 55, almost six years after a double-lung transplant, and some days I can’t remember who I told what yesterday. If it isn’t written on my calendar — the appointment or phone call, and why I’m having it — it can slip away entirely.

Post-transplant, I have more specialists now with frequent lab work and a plethora of different medications that have a slew of side effects and interactions — it’s a lot to keep track of. The woman who once tracked a dozen patients’ vitals in her head now sets reminders to remember reminders.

I’ve talked to my transplant team about it, and tacrolimus, the drug that’s keeping my new lungs from being rejected, is a likely culprit. There’s something almost funny about that, in a bittersweet way: The medication that saved my life is also the one quietly rearranging it. I am, as always, both grateful and grappling, sometimes in the very same breath.

But the truth I keep coming back to is that I’m alive because of a transplant I once only hoped for. And when I think of my lung donor, I quickly silence any complaint. I breathe now without the constant, grinding effort that defined so much of my life with CF. That’s not a small thing; it is everything. But still, I give myself permission to notice what has changed and what I feel I’ve lost, while still acknowledging who I am now with the amazing gift I’ve received. I’ve learned how to hold both.

What I’ve made peace with

Laughter has always been a helpful coping mechanism. I joke with the people around me when I blank on a name, ask the same question twice, or lose my train of thought mid-sentence. That’s not to minimize it. It’s because humor makes it easier to live inside the truth of it. Underneath the jokes, I take it seriously. I write everything down now. I’ve made peace with needing an external memory the way I once made peace with needing supplemental oxygen — not as a failure, just as information about where my body is today.

What I’m learning, again, is that acceptance with this disease was never a single arrival, it’s a road that keeps unfolding without a GPS, with new bend after new bend. First, I had to accept CF. Then I had to accept my body declining to the point of needing a transplant. Now I’m accepting the trade-offs of that medical miracle, including a mind that works differently than it used to.

I try to stay rooted in the moment that I’m actually in, rather than the one I used to inhabit. The 35-year-old version of me who could keep a hundred plates spinning is not gone; she’s been folded into someone new. She is slower in many ways, but still shows up for her daughter and for herself. She just writes it down first.

I am not the same woman I was before the transplant. I am something else now — imperfect, forgetful, but undeniably here. Some days feel like more than enough, and I try to hold on to those days. Having CF, going through a lung transplant, and getting older is not for the weak, but I am learning to take note of the changes, embrace the journey, and let that be enough.

Note: Cystic Fibrosis News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Cystic Fibrosis News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to cystic fibrosis.