Fix Me or Fry Me

My dad has emphysema. Damned cigarettes. After months and months of tests and rehab and scans and more tests, he may finally be put on the list for a lung transplant. I asked him how he felt about it, and his response was "Fix me or fry me." He is tired of living without a decent breath, tired of sitting in the same chair everyday, tired of not being able to do anything. 

I can't sort out my feelings about this. Part of me is very excited. He could get better - he could get out of the house again, he could play with his grandkids, he could teach me how to make pierogis, he could have a better quality of life. The other part of me is very scared because he could die.