From the archives …
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Just flying along, that was me. Feeling good. New start in Nashville. Getting the final surgery that would put me back into some sort of pre-sickness wholeness. Making the decision to work with a career counselor to find what a reinvented me might do to make a living. Loving Spring in Brentwood – blue skies, warm with no humidity temps, our newly seeded front lawn growing greener then I’ve ever seen. All’s good. Then I had to go write a post about faith. That’ll teach me.
Phone rings. I answer. “My Gerber, this is Alice (fake name) your transplant coordinator. How are you feeling?” With the solid foundation of above, my response was an enthusiastic “Great!”. I’ve been expecting a call from the program. My last two sets of labs were a bit off, but since they fell into the time period of my surgery we kind of figured that it would be OK; they’d get back to their normal happy results soon. That’s the problem with optimism – there are those that are actually looking out for you.
Alice agreed with my theory, but stated that they wanted to be on the safe side. And what does that mean? Well, since there was a slight difference between the donor’s hepatic artery, and mine, there has been some concern about stenosis (narrowing) that would impede decent blood flow to my new liver. OK, I knew that – in fact, I’ve been a little surprised that we haven’t dealt with it – I was having quarterly ultrasounds at my last place. So Alice calmly told me that I was scheduled for an ultrasound tomorrow at 11:30 (nothing to eat or drink before). They would call me with the results on Monday. And if the ultrasound was normal, well, you know, there’s always the chance of rejection. So, if normal, we’ll schedule a liver biopsy. Talk about being confused as what to hope for. Oh, and by the way, she said, have a great weekend!
As I type that, it seems like no big deal. BUT IT IS! I haven’t had to deal with those unknowns in quite a while. But I guess this is some of the faith that I wrote about a couple of days ago. Unknown, unseen. No matter what the finding is, more things to do. Houston, we have a problem. What if they’re not telling me everything? What if they suspect something that is a big deal? Pardon me, I have to go back and read that faith thing again.
OK, back – I’m not taking changing any of that. But this site is supposed to be an accurate account of what this transplant recipient’s story is. Right now I feel great, but worried. Right now logic tells me that I’ll be going through times like this the rest of my life. But also right now, I’m feeling like on the very slow ride up towards the crest of a roller coaster, and not being sure if the other side’s drop is 10 feet or 100. Actually, it doesn’t matter much to me. I hate roller coasters. But that’s what life as a transplant recipient is – or should I be less dramatic and point out the obvious – that’s what life is – peaks and valleys. When you’re up in the air, the flight is great. But landings always give a couple moments of excitement – I’m hoping that only a couple of moments on this part of my journey will suffice.