That's what I wrote on the calendar at work for April 22. Amazing that something I thought would happen -- let's see, journalist math -- in the 2020s is happening now. At least I'll have an easy time keeping track of how long I've had the transplant -- a nice round number!
I will have to get used to the worry of being immunosuppressed, where a small infection can get to a big one and "simple" viruses can send me to the hospital. I'll have to get used to a new medication regimen that may make me feel sicker before we reach equilibrium. I'll have to start protecting myself from the sun -- apparently without a 100-percent immune system you're more susceptible to skin cancer, and it's the #1 cancer for transplant patients.
But I won't miss the fatigue -- nobody can get much done with 13 hours of sleep a day. I won't miss the dullness between my ears. After 6 months or so, when they take out my grossly enlarged "native" kidneys, I won't miss the pain and the burden of carrying around what specialists tell me is basically "like carrying twins."
And, best of all, I'm not going to have to go on dialysis.
Is life going to be perfect? No. But is anyone's normal life perfect? Nope! And all I ask is a shot at that kind of -- imperfect -- normal life.
Holly
