Forest and trees and all that...

Have some time where I actually feel like communicating so I figured I’d update all my blog minions on what the heck I’m still doing in Colorado.  I know it feels like 6 months have passed since I left on this journey (or at least it has for me) but then I look at it and it’s only been a total of 5 days, including the day of surgery. 

A quick status update on me: I’m moving around much better than the last few days which I attribute to two things: my innate to ability to heal faster than a caped super hero and the pain meds.  Percocet does a good job of taking the edge off but it’s not knocking me ou………………………………………………………….

asfjlkdsfgds;lkhgsffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff  Wha?  Oh, must have dozed off there for a sec.

But I’m up and about pretty well though I still look like Lurch as I walk since I have a 6 inch gash in an inconvenient place.  I don’t know what I was thinking about when I decided to do this when it’s still pretty cold out here and I have to wear jeans all the time.  What does that have to do with the price of pork in Israel?  Well, jeans aren’t exactly soft on the edges and that’s where they tend to rub the most.  As a result, I have to walk a bit more gingerly than normal to avoid any undo discomfort.  That combined with my non-shaven face (had an IV shoved in the side of my neck and it needs to heal) makes me look like walking wreck.  I have to say though, it seems people are steering a little clearer of me, a look of uncertainty in their eyes.  I just smile and nod to throw them.

The next few weeks are going to be interesting as I get used to a dizzying array of 12 (yes, a dozen) new meds taken at seemingly random intervals.  I’m ok with the number and can get into a routine for pretty much anything but they seem to find it fun to switch things up on an almost daily basis.  “Take  of these drugs twice a day for 4.3 days then reduce 20% three times a day for the next 38 hours then switch to…” I know that these things need to be monitored closely and some changes are necessary but I am getting suspicious that they get enjoyment out of it.

Another thing I’m not sure I’m ok with is some of the meds I’m taking.  Take for instance Prograf.  Not only would cocaine be less expensive but it probably comes with fewer side effects and not harm me as much.  If I have too much Prograf in my system at any given moment, it can kill the new addition to my happy home faster than stabbing it with an ice pick.  If I have too little, my body essentially says, “OK, bud, you gotta go” and tries it’s best to make my body kick the squishy sack out.  So I have to toe a fine line forever.  Anyone who knows me knows that I can do that for a little while and if needed focus for a bit longer than that but then my lack of attention kicks in and all that goes out the window.  They also want me to take and record my temp, body weight, blood pressure, fluid intake/output, hair follicles lost, millimeters of nail grown and total skin cells lost three times a day.  This from a guy who would forget to feed the cats if they didn’t gnaw at his leg when they got hungry. 

I’m unsure how I’m going to manage all this but I’m sure it’ll work out in the end.  I guess I’ll put in the perspective of either I do all this and keep myself healthy and respect the ultimate sacrifice my sister made on my behalf (which I still don’t deserve but will strive to till I die) or I have to go through all this again before too long.  I have to tell you – while I can imagine much worse fates (and I still think I got off light on this one), I certainly have no desire to repeat this any time soon - or ever if possible.  For now, one day at a time.

Along with getting used to the meds (which all have fantastic side effects as you can imagine), I need to go back to the hospital so they can continue to rape my insurance ensure that I’m doing ok.  Right now I’m scheduled to donate blood three times a week and meet with half a dozen people in an office who will go over my recordings of things only they think are essential and erode my dignity by showing them my scar.  I mean I’m not one to be shy about taking my shirt off but you have to understand where this cut ends – very near a very sensitive part of me – like quarters of an inch.  If all the guys reading aren’t squirming by now, they should be.  But it makes for an interesting battle scar.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say conversation starter because I imagine that would be a bit awkward.  “You want to see my transplant scar?  Let me just unbuckle…”  I think not.

So that’s me.  Feeling good, healing quickly with a few things to conquer but nothing out of reach.  But enough about me – what about the star of this show, my sister?  Different story.

She’s still down in the Springs with Aunty and Uncle and still is… unmoving.  I can’t speak to everything that’s happened but I know she’s trying everything she knows and experimenting to get things going.  By the end of this, she could have created a new form of yoga – who knows?  She certainly could use a dose of good luck about now, so any you can spare, please send this way.  I’ll even buy some off you if I can… just let me know where to send the check – I promise it’ll be in the mail soon.  Keep up the good vibes, positive thoughts, prayers, rain dances (can’t hurt, right?) and let her know that you are thinking about her.  Everyone has been beyond supportive thus far, so thank you for that.  Just a little bit longer.

If you would indulge me a short pause of seriousness for a moment.  I know that I said to many of you that I didn’t think it was needed to have emotional support through all this and I would be lying if I said I didn’t still think that, albeit to much smaller extent.  However, I knew going into it and have been proven correct that having that support behind me and Tracey would make the experience much easier.  I can’t tell you how true that is.  I have been truly humbled by the number of people, even people who I know peripherally, who have expressed support and well wishes.  You all have overwhelmed me with love to the extent that I could never repay – but the awesome thing is that, although I will never stop trying to, I know it wasn’t given looking for repayment.  Almost as awesome as that run-on sentence, yea?  My point is, thank you has never seemed so small and doesn’t even begin to express how I feel towards all of you.  Alright, I promise no more of that nonsense unless warranted. 

So I guess if I had to sum it all up (and where’s the fun in all that?), you could say that I am not out of the woods yet but I see the edge and am running full force towards it.  Well, lurching quickly.