I just got home from the hospital. Today I was my brother's designated pick up person after his liver biopsy. They kept him for a few hours to make sure all looked good and, fortunately all did. Not only that, he did. Before heading up town I grabbed a tranquilizer, just in case things turned out like the last time I saw him post-op. That time I was on the verge of fainting at one point and he was rushed to an emergency room, then spent several days in the ICU.
This time though was non eventful. We shared family lore, watched you tube clips, I knit for a couple of hours. Then we hopped in a cab and headed downtown.
This is it. The last test. The results determine everything that happens next. Yes or no. Transplant or not. Does the journey continue or does it end.
That's too much for me to process right now.
I'm so thoroughly exhausted I can't sit up straight anymore. And I'm not the one who had spent the day being poked and prodded and tested and drugged.
I'm finding these days I'm living on the edge of total fatigue. I suppose it's my way of dealing with things too huge to deal with.
Just a few more days though. Just a few more necessary afternoon naps. Just one more weekend of waiting.
And then, the next part of the story begins.