Delia Galvan hasn’t seen her favorite color for the past few years, but she can describe it.

Purple is the color of mountains in the distance, she said.

With the loss of her eyesight and her medical battles, there are many things Galvan misses — including her husband. But it is the simple things she longs for the most.

“I miss not being able to see color and sunshine,” Galvan said. “I miss working out and sweating.”

Galvan, 48, now has the chance to regain her life — and those simple things. She underwent a 14-hour kidney and liver transplant surgery at Porter Adventist Hospital in Denver on Monday, March 6.

“I’m feeling much better,” Galvan said on Tuesday, March 7 from her bed in the intensive care unit.

Before the surgery, she spent her days at home in Wheat Ridge, waiting for the news that doctors have found an organ donor. Galvan relied on the support of friends and her church community for everything: from rides to dialysis treatments to shelter.

Renal failure has gradually robbed Galvan of her sight, and she is learning to function in the world as a blind person. But Galvan doesn’t waste time feeling sorry for herself. Although her days are long and sometimes lonely, there is comfort in solitude, she said.

“It gives me a lot of time to talk to God, and to think about what I can and can’t do,” Galvan said. “And what I’d like to do.”

Ten years ago, Galvan was a model of good health. A thoughtful, soft-spoken woman, she worked as a certified interpreter for the city of Denver. She owned a home and loved to walk around Sloan’s Lake with free weights, she said. During one of her walks at the lake, she met her future husband, Jaime Galvan, when he sat down on the bench next to her. The pair struck up a conversation, and continued to meet for walks at the lake, Galvan said. Almost two years after they first met, the Galvans married in Denver, she said.

The couple began the process of making Jaime Galvan’s immigration legal, Galvan said. During a random traffic stop, police learned of her husband’s immigration status, and he was deported.

Galvan did everything she could to stop the deportation and lost everything in the process, including her home and two dogs, she said. Galvan eventually joined her husband in Juarez, Mexico.

Living there was extremely difficult, Galvan said. She crossed the border into El Paso, Texas, every day to look for work. Despite having many skills and bachelor’s degrees in Spanish and psychology, Galvan and her husband were unable to find work.

In 2001, while living in Mexico, Galvan noticed her body was swollen, and she was always fatigued. A friend who was also a home-health aide visited her; the aide immediately recognized how sick she was. After two stays in the El Paso hospital, Galvan’s husband called his daughter in Denver, and she brought Galvan back to Colorado.

Galvan always had stayed in touch with her Wheat Ridge church, Harvest Christian Community. When she returned, Galvan moved into a cottage owned by Kimary Marchese, a fellow church member who was familiar with Galvan’s situation and had sent her money and prayers while she was in Mexico. Galvan later moved into the main house on Marchese’s property and became her roommate, she said.

It’s been difficult for Marchese to watch her friend lose everything. Galvan doesn’t even own the bed she sleeps on, but Galvan refuses to let obstacles overtake her, Marchese said.

Galvan spends a lot of time in the house with Marchese’s poodle mix, Celeste, who is Galvan’s constant companion. Friends come by to chat or take her to run errands, just so she can get out of the house, Galvan said. A home-health nurse comes by every day to check on her, she said.

Galvan speaks to her husband when he has the money to call, which is only about once a month. She has no idea when she’ll see him again or if he’ll ever be able to return to the States, she said.

“It would have to be an act of God and Congress,” she said.

As of last week, Galvan was third on the transplant list, she said. She’d been on the transplant list for a year and relied on her faith to sustain her, Galvan said.

Now that she’s had the surgery, she wants to be active and to make a difference in someone’s life, she said. She wants to go back to Wyoming, where she grew up, to visit her only brother, she said.

Even in her hardest moments, Galvan doesn’t question God’s plan for her life. “Sometimes things happen while we’re alive that we don’t see until after we’re gone,” Galvan said.