On Christmas Eve 2022, I suddenly experienced a severe shortness of breath that only eased after thirty minutes. In the following weeks, my health declined rapidly: I could no longer make the slightest effort without suffocating. I was hospitalized in February 2023, and the doctors discovered a severe and unexplained lung inflammation that was progressively destroying both of my lungs. Treatments failed, I lost weight, my muscles melted away, and I depended on increasingly high oxygen flow.

On March 15, 2023, I was transferred urgently to Marie Lannelongue Hospital. Two days later, I was told that a compatible graft was available. During the night of March 18 to 19, I underwent an emergency lung transplant. When I woke up, still in a haze, I understood that I was alive. The battle wasn’t over, but I had been given a second chance.

Rehabilitation was long and painful, but I gradually regained strength. The exercise bike became my first breath of freedom. When I returned home at the end of April 2023, I set up a home trainer and started pedaling every day. The effort helped me—physically and mentally.

A few months later, a new challenge appeared: a severe bronchial stenosis. I underwent numerous bronchoscopies, dilations, and the placement of a stent. The chest pain was constant, but I kept training, because cycling had become essential to my balance.

In 2024 and 2025, complications followed one another: infections, stent adjustments, immunoglobulin treatments, chronic fatigue. Despite everything, I stayed determined. Sport helped me stay on course, rebuild my muscles, improve my breathing, and protect my morale. I invested in equipment, structured my training, and progressed day after day.

Over the months, my medical results improved. My stent stayed in place, my lung tests were excellent, and hospital visits became less frequent. I kept training—sometimes with pain, sometimes with fatigue, but always with the same determination: to move forward.

Today, I continue rebuilding myself. Cycling has become much more than a sport: it is my survival tool, my therapy, my engine. I am preparing to return to the road as soon as conditions allow. I know my health remains fragile, but I also know that I am capable of standing up again, again and again.

This story is one of struggle, rebirth, and a passion that helped me find my breath—both literally and figuratively.

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