Everyone changes during the process. I have been through the mill once and then evidently did not learn my lessons and before I caught my breath, was forced through again. This time it was the secret, deep dark never to ever recover world of Transplant.
It has been nine years. Almost a decade. Longer then a president serves. Longer then a moon mission. Maybe the Hubble has been in space longer. I feel older than the Great Wall of China, tired and chipped and so strung out I can never be properly repaired.
I just don't know how many "one more things" I can take. I have my life and then I have the things I really need to do to get on with the next step of my life. Every time I try to head back in that direction I am hit full force with the big red stop sign.
I try to do this with a sense of humor and with some grace and class and some humanity. I whine a bunch here but I figure this is optional, sort of like the info-mercial on your TV. Never have to stop and see what miracle thing will make the world a better place.
I never asked for this path. I certainly never asked for it twice. It does not matter when it happens it happens. Once, twice, three times. It is just as bad.
I was in the parking lot yesterday while we were picking up meds and I saw a family with their green child. He had chubby steroid cheeks and a feeding tube. They were going out on pass. Nice family, worried mom, strong appearing father, scared brother. It is so hard to see. The child still had some hair so you know this is just a start for them. They are going on a long long journey with an uncertain end.
As I think back I never really was able to leave it "behind". While Cancer slipped into the recesses of my mind it could be called forward like an eager dog receiving a treat. This time we are really really done in a different way than before.
As Mary-E works through her taper we are very like the horse at the race starting gate. We are ready for this to be behind us. For real this time. It is different. She has had a transplant. They really really really killed her old cells. It has been more than a year and no relapse. We are done. I thought this tree said it best.
Strong, tall and still growing, only in a different direction.