I was surprised when a friend mentioned my long absence from this blog. So few people check it now for updates. Very few seem concerned with my trips to Cleveland and so much time has passed they’ve forgotten I’m still not out of the woods.
Several months have passed since I last posted. Since my last post several people in my support group have died, including my friend Janet from pulmonary rehab and Craig, who got his transplant only a couple months after I got mine. Their deaths forced me to reflect on the horrors transplant patients face. Many transplant recipients seem to possess an essence—a deep quality that is never afraid to take life by the horns. I think it may have something to do with being swept out of the arms of death and having that second chance. So it really sucks when these wonderful people fight with everything they’ve got for their second chance and then they die. Five years later. Three years later. Eighteen months later. One year later. Five months later. It’s never fair.
As I approach my fourth year anniversary I struggle with several health issues due to the surgeries and immunosuppressant medications, but I continue to be happy simply because I have escaped death. As I get closer to the four year mark, my transplant friends continue to die, and my body continues to hurt and fail me in little annoying ways. I am now in stage three chronic kidney disease, have joint pain, IBS, chronic migraines, and osteopenia. But I try not to complain. With all the hurt in the world right now, I always feel like I shouldn’t overshare my problems. I just continue to do what I can to reduce my risks on a daily basis, like wearing masks out in public and constant hand washing. I take my medications and listen to my body.
Each day I hold onto the hope that I will outlive the statistics. I am thankful for my donor and his family who gave me his lungs and the team who works so hard to keep me alive. Thank you to those who continue to walk beside me through it all. You are the best of friends.
