4 weeks and 2 days post surgery, there are hours during the day I forget the transplant even happened. I wake up with my mind whirling through all I need to do. My energy is back. My focus, that had been missing for so long, is showing signs of return. I'm increasingly aware that I need to find my own path again. For 6 months donating was my top priority, my main concern. It consumed me, whether through lab visits, testing, the endless waiting and what if conversations.
My life opened up for me to be fully available and present. Or, maybe it's more that I withdrew from life so I'd be as free as I could be.
4 weeks and 2 days post surgery I'm healing. I'm healthy. Yes, my scars are still tender. Yes, I still get hit by waves of fatigue that knock me flat. Yes, I'm not strolling the streets at my usually pace. Every day though gets better, easier as I ease back into myself.
So now what?
As I was told by someone in my family last night, I can't play the kidney card anymore.
It's time to figure out what's next. For me. I am now a kidney donor and will carry that with me for the rest of my life. It sort of feels like becoming a mother. Once you are one you never lose it. It becomes a part of you but it won't always be the only thing you do.
At the moment though, I'm a bit flummoxed. I'm picking up the pieces of all that I lost track of. I'm dealing with the repercussions of no camp for the kids, a closed bank account, taxes that weren't filed. The puppy that needs to be spayed. The physicals for Iz and Jack that should have happened 2 months ago. It goes on and on.
One thing I want to do, need to do, have to do is write this transplant book. The experience is fading. Fast. And it's a story that's so worth celebrating and commemorating.
It's now just a matter of taking a deep breath and diving back into my life, leaving this limbo behind.
I'm getting closer to the edge of the pool. I'm thinking I'll be getting my feet wet without even realizing I'm in.