Today I had my year post-transplant check up. 3 and a half months late.
But that was ok. As a donor it's more of a formality at this point. I'm not on a regular drug regimen. I don't need blood levels checked often. I'm just healing.
Healed.
No, actually, still healing.
I still get a bit nervous heading uptown. Much emotion is tied to that mostly beige waiting room, the run down hallways, the overcrowded lab. I spent so much time there, had so many vials of blood drawn, heard such good and not so good news. But today was more of a dipping my toe back into the donation process than anything too overwhelming.
I discovered:
the lab bathroom still doesn't have instructions on how to give a urine sample
I still could spend hours chatting with my surgeon
the people in the lab are, as always, delightful to talk to
I weigh less now than when I started the donation process (who knew my kidney was more than 5 pounds?!)
it's not crazy that I feel the effects of medication more strongly than I did before
Advil is not completely forbidden
it's time to have my done density checked
And I remembered how profoundly I changed someone's life. Even though I struggled so hard afterwards—my own emotions and anxiety knocking me flat for awhile—I am nothing but grateful that I was able to do something, to make a difference, to help change things for the better.
No comments:
Post a Comment