It amazes me that this blog, started in stress and desperation, could become so 'everyday'. When I reread the first few months' worth of posts, I can clearly see that I have become a different kind of person. My reaction to Babygirl's last two sets of labs really prove that to me.
Two years ago any minor change in numbers had me on the edge of my seat; no, on the edge of my sanity. One year ago while away on the mission trip I was crying daily, equal parts desperate to get news and terrified of what the news would be.
I'm not entirely sure if it is that I have matured or have grown numb.
Babygirl and I have been frequently to our favorite amusement park. It's on our way to and from the hospital in Philly, and it's a grand place to stop and take a travel break. But on a recent trip Babygirl observed, "You know, it isn't quite as much fun when you come so often." She has a point. We've ridden those same five rollercoasters about a hundred times in the past two years. And while your stomach still drops and your hair still stands on end, there is a familiarity to it. This drop. That loop. One more flip. And it's done. Next!
The kidney transplant has begun to feel a bit like this. It's not that I think that nothing worse can happen. I know all too well that that is true. There are, after all, new and untried coasters out there - just ask my recently whiplashed neck! It's more like driving on familiar hills. After a while you don't feel the stomach dropping dips or the g-force of the curves because they are simply normal. I think my adrenal glands have finally accepted that they don't need to dump every ounce of adrenalin they possess into my bloodstream every single time Babygirl's creatinine blips upward.
So the blog gets fewer posts. And many posts have nothing to do with transplantation, kidneys or hospitals. And more to do with 'real life' and the living of it.
I can live with that.