It’s true, like Dotty, recovery is a cold-hearted bitch from which there is no escape. Ask me how I know, go ahead…. ask me.
No? Fine. I’m telling you anyway. It’s been 7 months since my transplant and I’m still not working full time, I still don’t have 3 good weeks strung together that I can say I’ve been energetic, alert and engaged in life. It’s because I’m not. I’m tired, often in pain, also nauseous, and disinterested in most things. It’s a struggle to stay on task and get work done. And I mean quality work, not just showing up and keeping a seat warm because that’s not me -well, it didn’t used to be me any way. I’m not sure who the hell this guy who is writing this shit really is any more.
I hurt my back a few months ago, and apparently did a real number on it since I have osteoporosis. I have slight impact fractures in 5 of my lower vertebrae. Now the docs tell me it isn’t anything to freak out about, my back isn’t compromised to the point that I’m in any danger of real damage or paralysis, but none the less it causes me pain ranging from moderate to debilitating.
My intestinal function is all wonka-doo too after the transplant. It’s like they went in and played twister with what little digestive system I have left. So I have areas of really thin scarring where you can actually see it move, it’s right out of a page of Aliens. Christ, I’m growing a head-crab in my gut.
Now, you might say “dude, you’re complaining that you’re alive”. And I would say retort by saying “YEAH!? SO!?” I am fucking complaining. I’m pissed that I’m not as healthy as I thought I would be after the transplant. I’m pissed and I’m depressed. This wasn’t supposed to persist. It was supposed to go away. You know, like “fuck off, I’m busy livin'”. Nope, no such luck. I’m often in pain, sometimes I can barely stand let alone walk, or I feel like I’m going to throw up for days at a time or even better, I spend days at a time sleeping. But at least I’ve got a good view for a few days.