the stalled race

I've never run a marathon (and can honestly say I never will) but I'm thinking this donation experience has been something along those lines. Nervousness, excitement, plodding along when you think you can't anymore. 

Moments when you want to give up. 

Others of pure exhilaration. 

Meeting the surgeon felt like getting to a much-needed, well-stocked water table. 

But this? A tree fell across the road, blocking all movement. And electrical wires are tangled in its branches so there's no way over or around. We're waiting for firemen to come and assess the 
situation. For people from the parks department to clear the scene. 

Who knows how long that will take. 

I'd finally hit my stride. I had such momentum going. I was healthy, relatively calm, had worked out childcare and puppy walking, navigating school plays and test prep and work deadlines. 

Now? I'm sort of shaky. Adrenalin's pumping with nowhere to go. I'm full of nervous energy. Negativity's creeping in as my purpose, my goal, my plan has been abruptly halted. 

Instead of 11 days until the transplant there's now a giant question mark hovering over the entire thing. 

Fuck. 

But the flip side is learning to live in what is. 

We'll see if I can.